You would never have thought that a bed could have a gender, would you? But let's just say they did. Let us say that a bed's gender depends on its sleeper's sexual inclination. Intrigued? Then let's begin.

(POV of the bed.)

It had been weeks, months even, since anyone had stayed a night or two in a particular motel room in a holiday inn in Slippery Rock Pennsylvania. That is, until the present day.
The king sized bed was lonely, sitting there against the wall, a bit dusty and under-used; since it had no sleeper, it had no gender, and that can get pretty boring. But the bed stood proudly and never sagged, struggling to hold its shape at all times so that it wouldn't be retired and destroyed. But on the present day, this particular bed was in for a surprise. The lock clicked and the door to the room swung opened and hit the wall with a loud thud.
'Oh my gosh, A sleeper!' The bed thought excitedly. Finally it wouldn't be so lonely in the cold room. The bed could feel the aura...no...two auras! They were men's auras.
The bed still didn't feel a gender change. Hmmm...
"Damn it, there's only one bed." One sleeper said in an annoyed tone. The bed felt someone sit on its edge.

The memory foam curled around the sleeper, relishing in his...you know, sitting upon the bed; the bed gave a little creak of excitement.
"I'll take the bed tonight, Sammy, and we'll switch tomorrow night." The sleeper on the bed said.
The bed felt its gender begin to change.
"I wonder what I'll be!" The bed gave another quiet squeak in its springs.
"Dean, why do you get the bed first?" The other man, named Sammy, said, obviously tired. They sounded like brothers.
"'Cause I'm the oldest." The one on the bed said. They were brothers. The bed felt fuzziness in its springs and its gender changed.
'I'm a girl! I'm a girl!' The bed thought to herself with joy.
"Jerk." Sammy said.
"Bitch." Dean said.

Now, this bed certainly wasn't normal. And though every inanimate object has a soul, at least in this story, this particular bed could show herself in her spirit form to her sleepers in their dreams if she so chose to. In the real world, however, she had tried to make a form for herself but she never had the need to do something like that and therefore her will was not powerful enough.

After the two men had unpacked and exchanged a few words about a "Wendigo" thing, the bed felt the sleeper named Dean throw himself onto her mattress and nuzzle his face in her pillows for a moment; he momentarily wiggled his feet, tickling her sheets, as he gave a giggle of comfort into the mattress. Dean smelled like scotch and burgers and the bed gave little inaudible squeaks in her springs. The memory foam captured Dean's form and attempted to cradle him in its cushion; the bed wanted to hug the sleeper's form, she wanted to never let him go but she knew that was against the rules; the most she could do was dwell in the edges of his dreams. Soon Dean's breathing slowed and he was fast asleep.

The bed opened her eyes; she was in a sleeper's dream. Oh how long she had waited to find her way into a dream again. She had a form now, a human form; it was only in dreams that she was able to feel what it was to be human, even if it wasn't realistic.

She looked around and found that she was in a place that human's called "a bar." The aura of the sleeper was strong and she wanted so much to find him and meet him; the hope to meet her sleepers was what kept her trying to be the best bed a Sleeper had ever had the pleasure of sleeping in.

She followed the aura until she made her way to the counter where fuzzy images of people like images walked around; she passed by a mirror on the way and saw her figure, clothed with human cloths and such; she thought she looked pretty damn sexy, for a bed. She looked around for the only clear person in the dream: the dreamer. She found him sitting on a bar stool, chatting with some women that looked hazy and unclear. The bed made her way over to him and sat on the stool beside him. His attention slowly moved away from the women and he turned to look at her.

The bed felt her imaginary heart skip a beat when she saw her sleeper's face.

'What was his name…oh yeah.'

"Hello, Dean." She said'; her voice was smooth and cool.

"Hey there." He said with a seductive grin. He leaned forward and pulled her in for a kiss. The bed had no idea what he was doing; everyone else had just ignored her for the most part in their dreams; this was something she'd only caught mere glimpses of in other peoples' dreams.

Dean's lips met hers sweetly at first and then he began to become desperate for some reason.

'I want you…' she heard him think to himself, since it was all just a dream.

'Please, don't leave me alone in the dark!'

Tears came to her metaphysical eyes as she let Dean kiss her while she heard his lonely thoughts. This man seemed so lost, so lonely and unable to control his emotions when he thought that nothing was real, when he thought that he was only in a dream.

'I'm tired…' he thought as he opened her shirt and left a trail of kisses down her neck and shoulders.

Suddenly everything around them grew dark and Dean looked up, eyes full of fear. The bed's form glowed and she stood, the stool soon disappearing as she did so. Vile looking creatures glared, darkened forms moved this way and that, and they all lunged towards Dean. The bed was confused but not scared; only she knew it was only a nightmare.

She quickly grabbed Dean's hand and pulled him away from the lunging monsters, holding him tightly, burying his face in her chest as her light warded off the creatures and the monster.

'I have to be strong!' he thought frantically as he began to shake.

'I'm pathetic…'

"I'll protect you." The bed said softly as Dean dug his fingers into her shirt and shook, falling to his knees. A blast of light shot from her body and it seemed to burn away all the monsters and chase away the dark. After few minutes everything was white and the edges of the dream began to form into a field of green grass and a blue sky; the bed had never seen the sky before and she marveled at its beauty. Dean had by now let go of her shirt to grab her hand and begin walking around in the field as if he hadn't a care in the world. His face looked distant and the bed knew that he would soon be waking up.

He looked at her and she smiled. He blinked and no longer saw her as his gaze grew calm and cloudy.

Everything was gone and she was just a bed again, feeling him squirm a bit under her covers, shifting his weight in the memory foam. After a few minutes the one called Sammy told Dean to get up and she soon felt his form leave the foam and the mattress. The bed heard Dean mumble something about having a weird dream and they left the motel room in a matter of minutes.

For hours the bed was confused; that sleeper was special but why should he be any different from other sleepers? Then something occurred to her. At first she didn't believe it but she eventually concluded it was the only answer. She had, as sleepers called it, "fallen in love" with Dean. But how could a bed feel that way for a human? How could a bed feel anything?

More hours still passed and she talked to the spirits of the other furniture in the room but none of them knew how to reply; they had never tried.

Finally the two men made it back to the motel room and they said that they would stay one more night before "hitting the road", whatever that meant. As they had previously agreed, the sleeper named Sammy slept on the bed while Dean slept on the couch by the television.

The bed thought for an hour or two, restraining herself from wandering into Sammy's dreams. Finally she made up her mind to force her form out of the bed and for the first time she actually succeeded.

'I guess this love stuff is pretty powerful…' she thought to herself, not knowing how to talk; she also was only covered by one of her bed sheets thrown loosely around her. Her feet never touched the ground as she silently glided over to Dean's sleeping figure, walking in the air as if it was the most normal thing she could have done.

She sat on the coffee table and looked at him as he slept; he looked so peaceful. She leaned towards him and laid her head on his chest, listening to his long and calm breathing; in his sleep he had reached out and touched her face gently, eyes squinted as he brushed it off as just a dream. She smiled and kissed his forehead, small indentations of where his hand had been lingering on the memory foam of her face. She sat there for hours, watching him as he slept, studying his form and his features until they were burned into her mind's eye for all times.

The sun rose and the two sleepers began to wake. The bed, with a last glance at Dean, leapt towards the bed, her body, and dove in. The sleepers packed up and the bed creaked a bit in her heartbreak; she couldn't love a sleeper, at least not while she lived in a motel where no one human lived for more than a few days at a time. The bed heaved an inaudible sigh and stood tall, once again trying to be the best and not to creak too much or squeak any more than necessary; she didn't want to be discarded.

Sammy left first and Dean turned and looked around the room for a moment, his gaze hovering over the bed for a few seconds in a confused stare; he could not figure out why but there was something…peculiar about that bed…maybe even sexy…

"Dean, you need to get more sleep…" he mumbled to himself as he shook his head and closed the door. The memory foam of the bed drew back slowly the form of Dean on its surface as if it were trying to hold on to him forever.