Sam woke up to the loud ringing of his phone drowning out the song that was playing on the radio. He rolled over, stretching his arms above his head and sighing. His hand pat the table down, fingers curling around his phone once he found it. Sam sat up on his elbows and answered his phone.
“Mornin-”
“You are making a big mistake.” Bobby's voice was clear through the phone. “That whole “someone” thing, Sam, you know better than this. Get in and get out. That's how it works.”
“It's a vacation.” Sam replied, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. “I've been working non-stop for years, Bobby. It's just a few days where I worry about me, not everyone else.”
“That is fine.” Bobby sighed. “But you know better than settling down. Don't get hooked on this someone.”
“Everyone else gets to sleep around, why can't I?”
“Because, Sam, you don't sleep around. You fall in love and settle down. You either get with another hunter or you live off one night stands.” Bobby explained. “There are guys, hunters, that would make you so much happier than any guy-”
“I know.” Sam looked at his lap, trying not to sound sad. Bobby was right. Most hunters accepted their fate and the life that came with it. Sam never had. He didn't think he ever could. “I'm an adult, Bobby, I know how one night stands work.”
“So, that means you'll be gone in a few days. Vacation over and everything?”
Sam took a deep breath, nodding. “Yeah, by Tuesday I'll be back on the road again. It'll be like I never stopped hunti-”
“I gotta go.” Bobby muttered. “Tuesday.” He repeated, except it sounded like a question.
Sam nodded. “Tuesday.” He replied, like a promise.
Sam shut his phone off and laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He had a few days. That's good. He rolled onto his side, looking at the slip of paper Dean had left him the night before. Sam could call him, but Dean was probably working, so Sam decided against it. He picked up the paper and folded it up, slipping it behind his phone case. It had been years since anyone had slipped Sam their number. Then again, bars and clubs weren't really his thing. Bobby was right. He couldn't do one night stands.
Sam lifted his phone up and turned it on. 11:05 a.m. was what it read. Smith's Shop would he open by now, which means his car must be ready or at least in line to be fixed. Sam climbed out of bed and set his phone on the table, looking at himself in the mirror. It was tall and dirty and hung loosely on the wall, but he could still make himself out in it. He decided that he should shower.
Sam pulled off his socks and tossed them to the side, picking his backpack up and unpacking it on the bed. Three shirts. Two flannels. Two pairs of jeans and boxers. Three pairs of socks. He had enough for the next few days if he washed some things in the laundry room by the check in room. Sam tugged his hand through his hair and grabbed a pair of boxers and socks.
The bathroom was small, maybe even cramped. A dirty mirror hung above a too small sink. The toilet and the sink were pressed against each other and a bathtub that was only four feet long was on the other side of the sink. A rod hung above the bathtub, a shower curtain strung around it. Sam prayed they had a shower head and thankfully, his prayers came true. A silver shower head hung a few inches below the rod. Sam set his clothes in the sink, pulling his boxers off and tossing them to the side.
Sam climbed into the shower, turning on the water. The water pressure was terrible, but it wasn't the worst he had ever felt. And the shower was hot, so hot it nearly burned him and he loved it. Warm showers were rare when someone was a hunter, that is unless they go to expensive places like hotels and such. Most stuck with a traditional motel, though. Thus they suffered through freezing showers no matter what.
