Supernatural [Reader Insert]

39. Attitude

The brothers decided to drive straight through to Vegas. You were sure they wanted to keep you moving. It was going to take about twenty hours, not including stops for food or gas. They took turns driving and sleeping. When you offered to help drive you were immediately shot down. By dinner time you were getting bored and tired. Dean had driven through a fast food joint and the full belly was beginning to make you drowsy. There wasn't any conversation to be had. The Eagles were playing softly from the speakers and miles of open fields lay on either side of the highway. You weren't surprised when your head nodded and then fell. You caught yourself and picked your head up, forcing your eyes open.

"You can sleep," Cas commented. "It's still 12 hours until we get there."

"No, I'm fine," you told him stubbornly.

Cas looked confused. "There's no reason for you to stay awake."

You caught Dean glancing into the rearview mirror. "I know," you responded quietly. "I'll sleep if I want to."

You watched Cas purse his lips disapprovingly before turning away from him. The sun was starting to get low. Short, young cornfields were backlit with orange. The sky was clear. There aren't even any clouds for me to stare at.

Dean cleared his throat. "Is the music too loud?"

You frowned over at Dean as he glanced back at you. "No, the music is fine."

Dean looked over at his brother meaningfully and you rolled your eyes. Whatever they were saying in their brother-telepathy was obviously about you. You turned back to the window.

A quiet moment passed before Sam softly said, "[Name], if you're tired you should sleep."

"I'm not tired. I don't want to sleep." You ignored your tired eyes and the urge to yawn.

"Okay, cut the crap," Dean's tone startled you. "You haven't been sleeping right since you got back. That's fair, but right now we're riding into a demon's nest and you decided you had to come with us. The least you can do right now is get some sleep."

You suddenly felt selfish and ashamed, like a scolded child. Your ears began to heat up. He was right. I am no good to them if I am continuously fighting off sleep. But the thought of those nightmares... What felt like a long period of time passed before you could find a response. "Alright."

Dean glanced at you, then at his brother, before mumbling, "That was easy."

You sighed and turned back to the window. If only you could stop thinking about those nightmares and your time in hell long enough to let yourself shut your eyes. You thought about your dad. When you were young and scared he had told you that monsters didn't exist. That wasn't true anymore. You avoided that thought and tried to remember bedtime when you were younger, and how you fell asleep.

Turning to Cas, you found him staring out his own window. "Cas?" you spoke quietly. He turned to you. "Could you tell me a story?"

The angel seemed unsure. "What kind of story?"

You glanced at the Winchesters in the front seat, feeling self-conscious, and lowered your voice even more. "I don't know, a good one."

Cas seemed to think hard for a moment. "A... long time ago," he began, "when I was still a commander, there was a baby born to a Jewish family of slaves in Egypt. In order to save the child, his mother put him into a basket and prayed for his survival and his delivery from their current state. Her prayers were answered. We helped guide the basket down the river, steered it away from danger and to the wife of the Pharaoh. We watched carefully as she took the child and raised him as her own..."