Confetti it's a Parade Book 2

Spelled Disaster

"It's always a witch," Dean muttered as the two of you tiptoed through the quiet hotel suite, trying to figure out where the witch was hiding.

"Dean, shush," you ordered, holding your gun up at eye level just as a flash of movement caught your eye. Nodding your head to the side, you turned just as the witch burst into the room, throwing a shimmering powder at you.

Sputtering, you wiped the sweet mess from your face as Dean raced after the witch. Before you could even move a gunshot was heard. "Dean?" You called out.

"Don't worry, I got her," Dean yelled back, coming back into the room. "But we've probably drawn attention to ourselves. Let's get out of here!"

You didn't have to be told twice, rushing towards the front door, opening it to see if anyone was coming down the hallway. "Go!" Dean called out, and you raced through the door, running straight for the stairs. Dean had a hard time keeping up with you as you pushed open the door, taking the steps as fast as you could.

Down the stairs you went, through the service exit, stopping as soon as you were outside. Breathing heavily Dean stopped next to you. "Can't we take the elevator next time?" He huffed.

"We needed to get out of there before we were seen," you insisted. "Now can we get out of here?"

"Get in the car," he told you, and almost feeling like you had no choice, you slid into the passenger seat of the Impala, waiting patiently for Dean to join you. Glancing curiously your way, Dean started the Impala. "You feel okay? That witch didn't hit you with something, did she?"

"I'm fine," you told him, even though you weren't so sure that you were. But you didn't want to worry Dean.

"Why don't you get some sleep. It will be a while before we meet up with Sammy," he suggested, and as soon as the words left his lips you could feel yourself growing tired, your head resting on the window. Missing Dean's concerned look he shot your way before driving off.

"Y/N, wake up," Dean said, shaking your shoulder, and you sat up quickly, knocking your head against his. Both of you groaning, Dean stood back, giving you a chance to see that he had driven all the way through the day to reach the Impala.

"I slept all the way here?" You asked, standing up and stretching your stiff neck.

"You did," he seemed surprised. "You fell asleep as soon as we climbed in the car, and didn't wake up until...," his voice floated away. "Until I told you."

"That's weird, I don't usually sleep that long on road trips," you muttered.

"Y/N, pick up that bag," Dean told you, and without a second thought you did, staring down at it in shock.

"Dean...," you started to say, but Dean shook his head, racing down the stairs, leaving you to stand there wondering exactly what was going on.

"What do you mean Sam's gone?" You asked as soon as you made your way down the stairs to see Dean reading a note by the map table. "Everything okay?"

"He said there was a rare collection of books being auctioned off the town over. He'll be back tomorrow."

"Oh, okay," you answered, dropping the bag down beside Dean.

"Hey Y/N, why don't you go make dinner," Dean suggested, and you had this sudden urge to make dinner, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't fight it. "Don't go all vegetable with it either. Meat!"

Muttering under your breath, you made dinner, cooking up some thick juicy steaks, wondering why you were being so nice and following Dean's suggestions. Wondering if the witch had messed with you somehow, but thinking that you would feel different if she had.