Land of Monsters

.first light. | .dean.

She came out of the makeshift room, and gestured for them to stay while she went up the wooden steps. A dresser drawer opened and shut, and she returned to them in different, drier attire, holding her coat and hat, which she hung on one of two nails sticking out from a wooden buttress.

"Sorry about the accommodations," she whispered. "If you can manage, you can share the bed upstairs. Just don't get all that feral goop on it, and don't go through my files."

Dean took off his coat and hung it beside hers. "What about that detective?"

"Well, I'm sure he's up, but I'm exhausted and cold. We can sleep for a few hours. I'll set an alarm so we don't waste time." She hid a yawn behind her palm, then nodded at the kid's room. "I'll be here. Try not to make a lot of noise?" She aimed the question at Danse.

"No problem," said Dean. Danse nodded, and allowed Dean up the stairs first. They set down their things, each rifling for something a little cleaner and drier. The bag Dean had gotten in Sanctuary had a faulty zipper, unbeknownst to him, and it had let in enough rain to soak his extra t-shirt. He unfolded it with a whoosh and hung it from a door handle to dry. At least the pants are fine, he thought, thinking it rude to sleep in boxers when sharing a mattress with a stranger. There were a few damp spots by the ankles, but those would dry quickly. Danse made a similar appraisal of his own clothing, but at least his fit. Dean'd had to settle for a pair of jeans one size too big, because nothing else had been available at the time, though the one lady-what was her name? Anne Something?-had told him she could have a good pair his way if he could wait another day.

"I'll take the wall," Dean said, sitting on the bed. A shiver ran down his back. Could he sleep without a shirt? There were no blankets here, and he expected blankets in a city, even a city like this, because Sanctuary had blankets and it seemed like this place wasn't that worse off than them.

"Here, Dean." Danse handed him a rolled up blanket. He'd dressed in another uniform, this one a little lighter and lacking a cap. Probably to be prepared, Dean figured, because that's what he and Sam sometimes did too.

"Thanks, man." Dean unfurled the blanket, definitely a military issue, and not unlike something you'd find in a sporting goods store. It would do. "Next beer's on me."

"It might be a while until I'm off-post," Danse said, sitting on the edge of the large, naked mattress. "But the sentiment is understood. Thank you."

"No problem."

The two men settled into their respective halves of the bed, and Dean's next memory arrived at dawn. A light-not quite dim, not quite bright, but brushed in that early-morning gray-blue-poked through a hole in the wall he faced, and the air had that fresh-dew smell to it. He wasn't even sure if dew were a thing here, because he'd never really paid attention, but he knew it was morning in its earliest form. He shifted onto his back, listening for any sign of disruption in Danse's sleeping. His eyes adjusted, and he caught Danse in the corner of his eye. Danse was wide awake, on his back, his hands folded melancholy in his lap.

"Did I keep you up?" Dean asked quietly, aware that Piper and whoever she shared a room with were not buzzing downstairs.

"It's nothing," said Danse. "I haven't slept well in a long time."

"Why not?"

"Headaches, vivid and...strange dreams. Nothing can be done for it, so I cherish the short naps and continue to keep my body on a soldier's schedule."

"Nothing? Not even sleeping pills?" Dean scrunched his face. "Wait, do you guys have sleeping pills here?"

"I've tried herbal supplements, but so far, nothing works. It is alright. Continue to sleep. I might find my next nap soon."