It worked. Dean seemed to have forgotten about the small person in his pocket. He draped his jacket over a chair before making sure Jesslyn got her ridiculous shoes off. She grumbled about it but kicked them off. Dean tossed them onto the other queen bed with the rest of their things. 

"You're not wearing those heels into bed," Dean told her. "You'll stab me in your sleep with them."

"Prob'ly deserve it," she muttered, only half aware of what she was saying. "Jerk."

"Bitch," he shot back, without heat.

Jesslyn was aware enough to roll over and give him a dark look. "Rude."

Dean chuckled and leaned down to kiss her. Jesslyn bit his lip after the kiss. Dean jerked back and sucked on the sore appendage. "Woman," he growled. But the bite had sent an electric thrill through him. It was actually nice. He leaned down and kissed her again.

Jesslyn came awake. This she would stay awake for. Deans calloused hands were rough against her skin. Her nails scratched his, enhancing every feeling he had. Their noises echoed in the bedroom. Sam winced and covered his ears. This was too much. This was worse than just seeing them kiss outside the car. But they left him alone that night. He didn't have to sleep in a tank. 

The next morning, Jesslyn woke up. She rubbed sleep-filled eyes and smiled at Dean's arm around her waist. She rubbed his hand and rolled over to kiss him. She snuggled up to him after the kiss. "Morning, babe," she said.

"What a way to wake up," he replied. "I could get used to this."

"And then you would be spoiled," she told him. She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him sweetly again. "Where did you end up putting the Borrower? Last I remember the tank was filled with glass so you put him in her jacket." She hooked one leg over his hip and pulled herself even closer to him.

"Shit!" Dean swore. "I left him in the jacket. I totally forgot about him." He launched himself from bed and yanked his jacket off the back of the chair. He inspected the pocket carefully, expecting to find a hole in it somewhere. But there wasn't. It was intact. He opened the flap of the pocket and glanced inside.

Sam had been sleeping peacefully. Right up until the jacket was hauled into the air and he was tossed about inside, much like a ragdoll. He yelped and clung to the fabric as it was probed and inspected. He flinched as light flooded the pocket. He glanced up to the eye that was hovering overhead, waving nervously at it. 

"I'm still here," he said. "I told you I would be." 

Jesslyn sighed from the bed. "Dean, clean out the tank so you can come back to bed. It's too early to be up." 

"The sun is up," Dean said as he set the jacket back down, ignoring the protests within. 

"I don't need a tank! I'm not going anywhere," Sam yelled up. He sighed when the coat dropped back. No one was listening to him. Walt had been right. This was a mistake. He rubbed his face and wished it had happened differently. 

The tank was cleaned out and he was deposited inside the clear glass walls. He scowled and punched his reflection as Dean and his girlfriend left to go get breakfast. He was trapped in the tank with only a plywood doll bed that was far too big for him, a doll blanket that was far too rough, some bits from a granola bar and a bottle cap of water. 

He was a pet. Things didn't get better. He stayed in the tank, which sat on a shelf when they were stopped in a motel. Dean always kept the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door so no cleaning people came in and found him. When Jesslyn and Dean were on a hunt, he stayed in the tank which sat in the backseat of the Impala, a spare blanket tossed over it to hide its contents. 

Fall was turning into winter, as he could tell one evening as he waited impatiently in the darkness under the blanket in the tank in the backseat of the Impala. The car was not left to run so he sat there and shivered in the cold. The doll blanket was of little use since it was barely more than a rough scrap of fabric. There was no insulation in it meant to keep the user warm. After all, the user it was designed for was inanimate plastic.

He was freezing, teeth chattering, whole-body shaking freezing when Dean and Jesslyn returned. Both looked a little rough around the edges. The woman's hair was tangled and had gore in it. Dean's shirt was torn and his jeans were blood-splattered. This Sam could tell from the overhead light of the car when Jesslyn pulled away the blanket to check on him.

"Still here," he managed to snark. He hated being imprisoned like this. The car was more his home than it was Jesslyn's but he was a prisoner all the same.

Jesslyn rolled her eyes before taking a closer look at him. "You're shivering!" she announced. She reached into the tank and scooped him up. "Good grief you're cold." Guilt swept over her. The little guy probably couldn't maintain very much body heat for any long period of time when he was exposed to the cold. He had so little insulation naturally that a gust of cold air probably took away any body heat he had managed to accumulate.

"Come here. I'll warm you up." She turned the heat to maximum and the vents to fully open before cupping Sam to her stomach. She held him close to her own body, tucking her hands beneath her insulated jacket to warm him up faster. "Poor thing," she cooed. "Dean, we can't leave him in the Impala. He'll die of cold if we get a real cold snap."

Dean grunted. He didn't see how that was such a bad thing. It meant one less threat wandering around. But he only said, "Then figure out how to keep him warm."

"What if I took him with us on the next hunt?" she asked.

"Don't come crying to me if he gets squished or eaten," Dean warned her. "Hunts aren't easy on us and we're like ten times that thing's size. He'll die quick and it won't be pretty."

"You're awful," Jesslyn growled. "The little guy can't help that he gets so cold! He needs to be taken care of. Not tossed about and left to freeze."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Don't go whining at me. I told you that if you want to cart it around wherever you go, fine. But I'm not going out of my way to take care of it."

Jesslyn gave her partner the darkest, deadliest glare she could muster. With a harrumph, she turned to face the window as Dean drove them down the highway. 

Sam sighed. They argued a lot but always made up. At least he was warm right now and it sounded like Jesslyn wasn't going to leave him in the freezing cold car again. So there was that. He relaxed against her abdomen and simply absorbed the incredible warmth she emitted. Slowly, his shivering stopped and his body began to function again, heating itself adequately. At some point, he was transferred to Jesslyn's right hand so she could use her left one to hold Dean's. 

Sam only hoped that this didn't mean he would have to sit and listen to them "making up" to each other tonight. He grimaced at the thought. They didn't have sex every night but it certainly was more often than not. At least he was usually in the tank on the other side of the room and could hide beneath the rough blanket so he wouldn't have to see them doing it. Tonight he was in luck. Dean drove the night through, and on into the next morning, before finally stopping at a run down little motel some cities away.