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Sam decides to drive, leaving you in the backseat with Dean in shotgun. You never get to sit in the front unless Dean is driving.
Sam turns on his music, some rock band Dean starts complaining about as soon as you get in the car. You slouch back and stare out the window, trying to figure out what the universe has against you.
It's a few hours into the drive before anything strange happens again. Dean is driving and Sam is taking a nap in the back. You're chatting with Dean casually and you almost forget the awkwardness you felt after he saw you naked and you fell into his arms. That's short-lived, however. All of a sudden a song blasts on the radio, "Heat of the Moment."
"Dean, this song again?" you complain.
Dean shakes his head. "It isn't on this cd, I swear." Before you can ask what that means, you see a huge black hairy spider hanging right in front of you. You scream, surprised. You absolutely detest spiders.
"Dean! PULL THE CAR OVER NOW!" you shriek. Dean glances at you in alarm and quickly pulls the car onto the side of the road. Just when you are about to fling the car door open and demand Dean kill the spider, it drops. Right onto you. You scream again, jumping out of the car and brushing your shirt frantically. Without really thinking, you tear your shirt off and shake it viciously. Finally you stop and inspect your shirt, seeing no evidence of the spider.
When you look up Dean is out of the car, staring at you as you hold your t-shirt in your hands. Sam is looking at you through the car window, alarmed. Then Dean looks downwards and you realize you're only in your bra and jeans. You hurriedly pull your shirt back on, looking from Sam to Dean. "There was a spider," you explain weakly.
Sam raises his eyebrows and Dean covers his mouth with his hand, coughing. You know he's holding back a laugh. You walk silently to the car, open the door, check the seat for the spider, and slip in.
Dean slides back into the car too and it's quiet for a moment. "Something is happening to me," you finally say.
Dean laughs. "Like what?" You glare at Dean. "Okay, so, slip on a banana peel, you see a little spider, and you see a weird ghost," Dean shrugs.
"Don't forget you-" you stop, face flushing. Dean glances at you.
"What?"
"Nothing," you say quickly, not eager for Dean to relive that moment. "That spider was not little!"
Deans scoffs. "I didn't see any spider."
"What? It was huge! Almost the size of my hand! You can't tell me you didn't see that."
"Nope."
Sam has been quiet this whole time, but he speaks up now, leaning forward. "I agree with (y/n). Things keep happening to her."
"Okay, well, let's keep heading to Bobby's," Dean says.
"Thank you," you sigh in relief.

A few hours out from Bobby’s Dean decides he’s really hungry. You would be fine with heading straight to Bobby’s non-stop, but you have to admit your stomach is starting to growl too. So, you don’t protest when Dean pulls into a local diner. You find a nice quiet booth in the corner and you slip into one side. You expect Sam to sit next to you, or even for Dean to sit next to Sam, but instead Dean slides into your seat. His arm brushes against yours and you lean into it a little. Contact with Dean is rare and when it happens you enjoy it as much as possible. Sam picks up his menu and glances at you, then Dean. Then he looks back at you and meets your eyes. You raise your eyebrows, in a ‘what the heck?’ look and he quickly returns his gaze to the menu. Soon, a pretty young waitress comes over to take your order.
“Hi, what can I get for you today?” she says lifelessly, but when she sees Dean she immediately perks up. Your back stiffens and you glance at Dean out of the corner of your eye. He never fails to flirt with a waitress.
“Well, hello….” He starts. You feel a thud under the table and Dean jumps. Sam gives him a look and Dean clears his throat. “I’ll just have the bacon cheeseburger, thanks,” he finishes meekly.
You look at Sam in alarm, but he only shoots you a smile and then orders. You are still staring between Dean, who’s studiously studying the table and not the waitress like usual, and Sam, who’s doing much the same, when the waitress turns to you.
“Hun?”
You snap out of it and quickly order. You watch as she tries to give Dean a flirty look before she leaves, but to your surprise, he ignores it.
You sigh. You don’t know what’s going on between them, but your day has been eventful enough already. You decide to pretend it’s not happening. Thankfully, you make it through lunch without an embarrassing incident. The waitress appears again.
“Can I get you dessert?” She turns to Dean, batting her eyelashes. You feel like gagging. But once again Dean ignores her. It’s getting kinda weird, actually. Sam turns to her with a smile.
“Yes, actually. We’ll take three vanilla milkshakes.”
The waitress quickly turns her flirt onto Sam, who does less to ignore it. When she walks away, Sam is grinning. You roll yours eyes at him and he frowns, turning serious.
“Huh,” Dean suddenly says, pointing to the ceiling where the speakers are. Heat of the Moment is playing. He grins at you. “Come on, you know you like it.” You lay your head on your arms, completely fed up.
The waitress comes back shortly with the shakes, placing them in front of each of you.
“We’ll take the check, thanks,” Dean tells her. She nods and hands it over, seemingly disappointed by the lack of flirtation on his part. Then she winks at Sam and walks away, thankfully, for the last time. You thrust a straw into your shake, annoyed by the waitress but silently thrilled Dean didn’t flirt with her.
You glance around the restaurant and then you spot him. The man from the bathroom. He’s sitting calmly at the Diner’s counter. You gasp and Sam and Dean glance at you.
“What, brain freeze?” Dean jokes.
“No! It’s him!” You point over at the guy.
“Who?” Sam asks, puzzled.
“The guy in pink!” You say frantically. You rise in your seat, waving your arm toward the guy. Unfortunately, in your rushed movement you hit your shake and it spills all over you. Dean hurriedly grabs napkins and tries to mop up your ice cream covered shirt, but you push him away, looking back at the counter. He’s gone. You plop back down in your seat, defeated.
“He was there,” you whisper. Sam and Dean glance at each other and shake their heads in a ‘I have no idea’ way.
Suddenly the booth becomes really stuffy. “Let me out,” you say to Dean, nearly pushing him to move. You rush to the restroom, hot tears starting to form.
“(y/n)!” Dean calls after you, but you only walk faster.
You lock yourself in the bathroom, which is only one room. Then you grab a million wet paper towels and wipe desperately at your shirt, holding back your sobs. The ice cream only imbeds itself deeper into your shirt and you give up, throwing the towels into the garbage. You lean against the wall and sink to the floor, giving way to your tears. A few minutes later a knock sounds on the door. You try to calm your sniffling so the person will go away.
“(y/n), it’s Dean. Open up.”
You stay quiet, hoping he’ll think someone else is in here, or just go away.
“(y/n), if you don’t open this goddamn door and let me in, so help me, I will kick it down.”
You quickly wipe your face, knowing Dean is serious. You unlock the door and pull the knob, staying in your seat on the floor. Dean pokes his head in, covering his eyes. “You’re decent, right?”
“Yes, Dean,” you roll your eyes.
“Oh, good,” Dean steps in and closes the door. He locks it behind him and turns to face you.
He sits down on the floor next to you, wincing. “This isn’t very sanitary,” he mumbles. You give him a look. “Right, not really important.”
He rests his arms against his knees, looking around. “Huh. Men’s rooms are cleaner.”
You chuckle a little, wiping away more tears.
“Hey,” Dean nudges your shoulder. “We’ll figure this out.”
“Dean….I’m so tired of this day being shit.”
“I know,” Dean sighs. “But….shitty days don’t last forever. It ends, then you get a new shitty day,” Dean grins.
You laugh. “How hopeful.”
“Hey, I only say it like I see it. Anyway,” Dean shrugs. “I know we’ll kill whatever sucker is ruining this day for you. I’m really getting fed up with seeing you upset.”
“Thanks, Dean,” you mumble.
“No, I really mean it,” he looks at you sideways.
You attempt a smile. If only he knew. “Yeah.”
“(y/n), I-” A knock on the bathroom door interrupts him.
“Hey, you two love birds done in there?! I need to frickin poop!” an angry voice yells.
Dean turns to you with wide eyes. You laugh and stand up with him, brushing off your pants. Dean sees your ruined shirt. He pulls off his plaid over shirt, leaving him in his black t-shirt, and hands it to you. “Here, you can wear this.” Before you can protest, he walks out, explaining awkwardly that you’d be done in a minute to the not so happy woman waiting outside.
You hold Dean’s shirt for a minute, feeling a little giddy. Then you slip off your own, tossing it in the trash, and pull on Dean’s. It’s pretty big on you, but when you roll up the sleeves it doesn’t look too bad. You take a moment to breath in Dean’s scent, then you open the door.
“Finally,” the woman grumbles, shoving past you and slamming the door. Dean is waiting outside and he smirks when he sees you.
“I should let you wear my shirts more often,” he winks. You brush past him, trying to hide the blush that crept up.
“Let’s just get to Bobby’s,” you mumble.
“Sam’s waiting in the car,” he calls, following you out the door.