Dead End Signs and Wasted Land

"Happy 21st, Katalina," Sam and Dean hollered in unison like a couple of school boys, jumping on the sketchy motel bed I was still sleeping in. I groaned and turned away from them, planting my face in my flat, dull pillow. Hunting wasn't easy and the lack of sleep gets to you quick. We had recently finished hunting demons in Texas the night before. As excited as I was to finally turn the big 2-1, I didn't feel like partying for the time being.

"Wakey, wakey; eggs and bakey!" Dean stated, pulling the pillow out from underneath me. I quickly propped myself in an upright position and glared at him irritatingly. "What? We can't take our favorite girl to a little birthday breakfast?"

I groaned, rolling my eyes and flopping on my stomach as I rested back down on the pillowless bed.

"You have no idea how well I was sleeping until you assholes woke me up." I mumbled into the covers I threw over my head. Sam and Dean's snickers filled the empty hotel room.

"Oh come on, it's not that bad," Sam chimed in with a smirk on his face. "You're going to have a little fun today and then you can sleep in as long as you want tomorrow. Deal?"

Rolling over to get a glimpse at the two Winchesters, who have been treating me like a younger sister they never had since I started hunting with them, both had devilish smirks on their faces. I rolled my eyes as I flung the covers off of me. "Wipe those grins off your faces or I'll do it for you." I spat venomously, rubbing my eyes while stumbling out of bed.

"Well isn't someone a bitch this morning." Dean retorted, as I got up and walked passed him to get my things ready for a shower.

"Dean, shut the fuck up." I snapped back harshly, but that didn't phase him really at all. He raised and eyebrow and me and laughed it off as Sam shook his head, holding back the laughter. I'm glad they thought it was amusing, because I sure as hell didn't. As much as they both enjoyed pissing me off, I loved them dearly.

After my shower, I changed into my casual summer clothes, then pulled my hair back to a sideways bun. Dean would always point out how preppy I dressed out in public and so plain while hunting, but surprisingly he didn't say anything this time. He just smiled, looking impressed and then the three of us went out the door. I called shotgun as soon as one foot was out the door.

I darted down the stairs as Sam shouted, "Not if I beat you there." The two of us together had the tendency of acting very childish together, but I didn't care- we didn't care. Even though he was only a couple years older than me, he reminded me of my little brother, Patrick. We always fooled around and got into trouble with our parents. As much often as I got annoyed with him, I still missed him dearly- Patrick and my parents both.

Sam and I both tore across the parking lot like a couple of kindergarten kids rushing to be the first ones on the playground. We smacked our hands against the shiny metal frame of Dean's black '67 Chevolet Impala once we got there. I beat Sam.

"HA- eat that Sammy boy." I shouted with steady smirk. The response I got was a simple eye roll gesture. Dean however was glaring at both of us.

"Don't hit my baby!" he hollered with anger. He was so protective of his precious car, it was ridiculous. Only Dean would be so obsessive over a car. I can't complain; it was a nice car but at times he acted very narrow-minded and only cared about himself or the car.
I let out a sigh before opening up the passenger side door.

"Oh calm down, Dean. A little love tap won't warp the paint." I insisted playfully.

He opened the driver door, looked from me to Sam and back at me again.

"Don't be a smart-ass." he replied in a fierce tone.

I couldn't help but laugh, shrugging my shoulders and winking at him after I clearly stated, "Hey, I learned from the best."

Sam let out a small chuckle as he got in the back seat. Dean again wasn't amused. Look who's laughing now, pretty boy? Trying to pry me out of bed was a sad mistake. I was going to hound him as long as possible.

As soon as Dean started up the ignition, the Impala came to life and "Rockstar" by Nickelback started blaring through the speakers; the one song on my mix tape that Sam and I loved, but Dean could only tolerate. I had such a wide variety in music that the boys thought I was bipolar. Oddly enough, Dean didn't say anything about me messing with his music again. Any other time he would have said "Driver picks the music, Shotgun shuts his cakehole" or some other cheesy, old comeback, but he made it seem like he didn't mind. Yeah, and I'm the bipolar one.

---

We were contently sitting at a booth in a random local diner Dean had chose, where I sat across from Sam and managing to get stuck sitting in the same booth as [iyou know who, who was squishing me against the wall. Dean wasn't literally pinning me to the wall, just was being an ass giving me a nudge every once in awhile. It was still pay back for me touching his car and being smart with him. Well, there was only one way to take care of this.

When Dean wasn't paying attention and he was gawking at our waitress's larger than normal breasts and fit backside, I pushed him off his seat with all the force I had in my upper arms, sending him on the floor. Sam and I just about died laughing by the freaked out and unexpected expression on his face. It was priceless.

"What the hell are you laughing at?" Dean hissed at Sam, as Sam stopped his crazy, uncontrolable laughter but forgot to wipe the humorous grin on his face. Then Dean peered over at me, getting up off the ground to sit back down beside me.

"Bitch," he murmured, turning his head away as if he didn't say anything.

"Man-whore," I recalled intelligently, elbowing him in the ribs. Sam was attempting not to lose it by now, because me and him both enjoyed messing with him.

Dean winced when I nudged him, veering his head towards me again.

"Ow- why do you do that when you have such dagger-like elbows?" he questioned irritatingly.

"Awh, suck it up, big baby," I replied coldly, but innocently flashing him my pearly whites.

After breakfast, we really didn't do anything. I kind of got annoyed because they told me that morning they were going to make my 21st birthday fun; no where near fun if you ask me. We were just sitting in a motel room looking for another case like any other normal day. But around 9 o'clock that evening, Sam said for me to go change into something casual, but nice enough to go out in. I looked at him confused.

"Just do what he says, cowgirl," Dean stated, taking clothes out from his suitcase. I huffed and nodded, grabbing a few articles of clothing and went into the bathroom. As soon as I walked out both the boys were giving me a strange look.

"Either someones a little purple happy, or you just ran into a purple dinosaur." Dean remarked, casually.

"You mean like Barney?" Sam recalled, also pointing out the obvious.

"What?" Dean said, staring at Sam like he was losing it. Sam quickly reacted and shrugged his shoulders as if he didn't point out how well he remembered children shows.

"I like purple. Don't judge me, jackass." I growled back at him, sticking my tongue out at him.

Before I knew it, we were all drinking about five beers a piece, shooting some pool, throwing darts at the wall, making smart-ass comments to a few blue collar men; we had a merry old time, because when we got back to the room I couldn't tell ya what went on. The only thing that I can take from memory was waking up in the same bed as Dean. I was a bit worried, but calmed down to realize we still had our clothes on. The hangover was so bad, that I got up every ten to fifteen minutes around five in the morning, spilling my guts out into the toilet. Not something I was looking forward to. In the end, I must have had a great night out for my birthday, but so much for trying to sleep.