+willowstailsandwails
"Hey, Sammy. Wake up, sleepy head," Sam heard somewhere in the distance. The voice, whoever it was, was annoying. It was also shaking him and he'd decided he wasn't putting up with that anymore. He wanted to go back to sleep. So, all of the sudden, he swung at his tormentor wildly, his long arm and gigantic fist guaranteed tot connect with something. It did, but not with a face like he'd expected. Instead, in came in contact with a hand that felt as if it was made of steel that held on to his fist, not letting it go. At the same time, another hand came and began to tickle Sam, right in the ribs. That got him up.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" he yelled, trying to get away from his torturer. Who just so happened to be his older brother, as he found out when he opened his eyes. "Dean ..." he groaned.
"Rise and shine! We've got a hunt," Dean announced, hi voice odiously cheerful and awake.
That's when Sam noticed that Dean was dressed for a hunt and by the door, a duffel bag was already packed. "Already?"
Dean smiled. "Yep. A tip came in over the blog. We've got a kitsune, a Will-o'-the-Wisp, and a Banshee in a forest about 450 miles away from here. Best part, they've stolen yours and Cas' mugs. I'd say it's a job."
Sam had to agree. He hated when things stole his face. "Alright. Let's gank them. But you have to make me some coffee."
