“Okay, so.” Sam dropped the plastic bags onto his bed, struggling against the exhaustion tugging at his eyelids. “Clothes that fit for you, food for everyone. Just convenience store sandwiches, I hope that’s okay.” And soda, not beer. Sam had enough going on in his head without the added influence of alcohol. “Well, the floor isn’t sticky and I think the bathroom is trustworthy.” The hunter attempted a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Four stars for this place, eh?”
Honestly, the motel was a lot nicer than some of the dives he had stayed in with Dean, back in the day. The important thing was that there were beds. Sam felt certain that if he tried to walk anymore he’d fall over and die. I need a car. A car would be a great investment.