impact tremors (jo)
Dean woke up lying on his side, and he was very surprised to see Jo sleeping in front of him, on her side, too. Her ribs were rising and falling as she breathed, and it was very peaceful. This would be really nice... if it weren't for the obvious change.
The bed was a real modern bed. Frame was metal. His clothes were back to normal, and Jo had jeans on, too. Dean rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand and sat up on one elbow, looking around the room.
There were windows with blinds on them, and everything had a very modern, almost sterile kind of quality to it. There was a coldness. Outside looked anything but, from what he could see through the half-open set of blinds just ahead of Jo. There were big tropical plants, palm trees, looked like a gravel road.
He turned his head, and there was a closet with big gray doors over there. He'd check it, but was happy to see his regular weapons--the knife he kept in his boot, the gun he always had on him--sitting on a metal bedside table that sort of resembled a locker or filing cabinet. More metal.
He put his hand on Jo's waist.
"Jo," he said. He was rocking her gently, trying to wake her. "Jo, honey."