Dean woke up, stretched and groaned. Every muscled ached. He didn't hit a wall with quite the same bounce back as he once did. He wiggled his shoulders and grimaced, stretched his knuckles and winced. Yeah, everything hurt.

Running a hand down his face, he swung his legs out of bed, bare feet hitting the cold linoleum floor of this week's crappy motel room. Shivering, he shook his head internally, "I'm getting too old for this" he thought, as he stood up and bent backwards releasing a loud crack of protest from his spine.

"Good morning. Coffee's still hot" Sam said, looking up from his laptop and nodding towards the pot on the stove.

Dean grunted and reached into his duffle to grab a pair of sweat pants. "It's cold," he said, as a matter of fact.

"It's snowing." Sam responded.

Dean glanced towards the window as he wiggled into the warmth of his sweat pants and pulled on a pair of socks. "Huh. Well that'd explain the cold." He padded over to the stove, grabbed the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. "Top up?" he said, as he held the pot out

"Sure" Sam said, not looking up, as he lifted his cup towards Dean.

Dean dropped into a chair at the table with his brother. "Find anything?"

"Nope." Sam said. He slapped the cover of his laptop closed, picked up his cup and leaned back. "It's quiet out there."

"Huh. I'm hungry. Wanna get some breakfast?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I could eat."

"Great I'll just finish this, grab a quick shower and we'll head into town."

"Ok"

They sat opposite each other, enjoying the silence as they drank their coffee.


Dean pushed the last piece of pancake around his plate with his fork. "So, no case? Nothing?"

"Not today at least." Sam said as he stretched his long legs under the table, inadvertently kicking his brother. "Sorry. Ah, I'll keep looking, there must be something. What you going to do?"

"Dunno. Clean our guns. Wash the car. Oh, can't really do that in the snow. Um, clean our guns."

"You said that."

Dean frowned. "Hey, aren't the Chiefs playing today?" He looked up at Sam.

"I don't know. Are they?"

"Yeah I think they are, think they're playing the Cowboys."

"Cowboys suck."

"You said it."

"So what? You wanna watch the game?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, we got a day off Sammy. Let's do what normal folks do on a Sunday, grab some snacks and brews, watch a bit of football."

Sam shrugged. "Yeah ok. Sounds good. We could probably get some washing done before hand. That blood from last night's job should be set nicely by now."

"So domesticated Sammy." Dean smirked.

"Shut-up." Sam responded with a smile.


They walked into the Laundromat. It was empty except for a pretty woman reading a magazine, while she waited for her load to finish.

Dean elbowed Sam and nodded towards the woman, eyebrows wagging.

Sam looked to the skies. "Here." He handed Dean the bag of washing. "I'll go get some change."

Dean walked over to a machine two down from the woman and dumped the bag on the floor with as much noise as he could make. The woman glanced up and Dean smiled at her. He saw that look he sees flash across most women's faces before they compose themselves. That, holy shit look.

"Not the best way to spend a Sunday." He said, as he emptied the bag onto the bench behind him.

"Gotta be done," she said, shrugging her shoulders.

"I usually leave it to my brother here" Dean said, as Sam walked over "He's the woman in the relationship. He can get out stains that…"

Sam thumped him.

"Ow!" Dean said rubbing his arm.

The woman laughed.

"Couple of comedians I see." She said shaking her head. "Maybe you should stick to washing and give up the routine." She turned back to her magazine chuckling.

Dean shoved Sam and frowned. "Dude!" He said under his breath, indicating the woman.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean, let's just get this done so we can relax."

"I was making an attempt at getting in a bit of….relaxation." Dean whispered.

"Thought we were watching the game Dean?"

Dean sighed, "Yeah, we're watching the game."

He grabbed a handful of clothes and tossed them in the washing machine.

"Throw over last night's shirts, I'll go give them a scrub." Sam said.

"No need to scrub them, just throw 'em in with the rest" Dean grabbed the shirt he was wearing the night before and held it up. "Aw the shoulder's ripped. Have to stitch that later" he mused, as he balled the shirt up and tossed it into the machine.

"That blood isn't going to come out just in the machine Dean. They need to be scrubbed first". Sam reached in and grabbed Dean's shirt back out.

"The blood will come out fine Sam. Just throw 'em in with everything else."

"It won't Dean, it's dried now, we should've rinsed them out last night."

"It doesn't matter, throw 'em in, I'm telling you, they'll be fine."

"Dean, I've been getting blood out of your clothes for years."

"And I've been getting blood out of your clothes for longer!"

They stood staring at each other, each holding a bloodied shirt.

"Fine" Sam said tossing Dean's shirt back at him, "But don't blame me if they come out stained."

They suddenly became aware that the woman sitting next to them was listening to their argument and looking alarmed.

"Oh um, don't worry, we ah, we hit a dog last night with the car, had to pick him up and take him to the vet. We wrapped him in Dean's shirt." Sam indicated his brother.

"Yeah and Sammy here carried him. So ah, that's how come he got blood on his shirt too."

Sam nodded, looking between Dean and the woman. "Right."

"Dog was ok." Dean quickly added. "He's gonna be fine."

Sam nodded again. "Right."

The woman smiled at them wanly, looking less than convinced.

Dean turned and started stuffing clothes in the machine. "Let's just get this finished before she decides to call the cops on us." He mumbled to Sam out of the corner of his mouth. He smiled and nodded at the woman.

She quickly looked away.

Dean puffed out a sigh.


They stopped by the supermarket on the way back to the motel.

"You grab the beer and chips, I'll get the pie and liquorice."

"Dude, with the liquorice. Gross. Get some good snacks."

"Liquorice is a good snack!"

"Whatever. Get me some nuts or something."

"Nuts? Gotta have healthy snacks Sam? What's wrong with you?"

"Liquorice Dean? What's wrong with you?"

"Whatever, just go get the beer."

They headed up different aisles of the Supermarket both shaking their heads.


"What time is it?" Dean asked, kicking the motel door closed behind him.

"5 minutes 'til kick off."

"Perfect, flick on the TV and find the channel. I'll get the drinks and snacks sorted."

Dean unpacked the shopping and opened a couple of beers, grabbed two forks and the pie and picked up a bag of chips with his teeth.

He walked over to Sam, dropped the chips and the pie onto the coffee table, handed his brother a fork and a beer and threw himself down on the couch.

"How long's it been since we've watched a game together?" Dean asked, as he took a mouth full of beer.

"Been a while. I'd say a couple of years at least." Sam said thoughtfully.

"Too long." Dean said.

"Yeah, too long" Sam agreed.

"Well, cheers Sammy boy!" Dean said, clinking Sam's bottle. He sighed a contented sign, took another swig of beer, put his feet up and stretched out.

His phone rang.

Dean pulled his phone from his front pocket, looked at the number and turned to Sam and shrugged.

"Hello?"

"Dean? It's Jody, Jody Mills."

"Oh, hi Sheriff, what can we do for you?" He looked at Sam, frowning.

Sam reached for the remote and muted the TV.

"I just had a weird one come over the radio. A whole family's just up and vanished. Not the first time either, 3 families in as many weeks apparently."

"Police have any clues?"

"None that I can see. Everyone's scratching their heads. Thought it sounded like your kind of thing."

"Yeah, it sounds like our kind of thing alright. Ok, well give me the details"

Sam handed a pen to Dean and Dean scrawled an address on a piece of paper.

"Ok, got it. Thanks Sheriff. We're on our way."

He flipped his phone closed. "So much for a day off."

Sam sighed and turned off the TV. "You clear all this" he said, indicating the booze and snacks, "I'll start packing the car."

"Yep. Guess its pie to go." Dean said, as they both stood up.

"Story of our lives Dean."

"Story of our lives Sam."