So here we go, my second fic on fanfiction :D a little later than promised but better late than never. Some small references are made to my first fic, but you dont need to read that one to understand this one.
Disclaimer: As ever, this is Kripke's sandbox, im just playing in it for a while
The sun lazily moved across the sky on the crisp new morning, rays beating down on the highway heating the asphalt. The peace and quiet found on the road only in the early hours of the day was suddenly shattered by the growl of a sleek '67 Impala tearing up the track, seemingly in haste to get somewhere.
In truth, the car was only going at such a reckless speed because Dean Winchester was it's driver, to whom a deserted road was like an open invitation to see how fast his baby could go. The cars only other passenger looked over at Dean, smiling.
Sam shook his head suppressing a laugh at the goofy grin and sheer joy radiating from his brother, obvious signs he was ecstatic at being on the road again.
After spending six days in a pokey motel room, even Sam had to admit that he was relieved to finally be on the move. The brothers had been under strict doctors orders to stay put and rest after an 'unfortunate hiking accident'…a.k.a. a wendigo attack.
If it had been up to Dean, the Winchesters would have been on the road a day earlier after he had come across a possible gig using his brothers laptop. However, Sam had managed to coax one more days respite out of his brother by playing the guilt card and claiming that he was still a little sore, but was sure to be feeling better in another twenty-four hours.
It was a dirty trick but he had wanted to be sure his brothers ankle, which had been re-sprained during the wendigo hunt, was completely healed. Sam knew that if Dean had been left to his own devices, he was likely to over exert himself and would probably end up re-injuring it again.
In truth the pair of them could have used the extra days healing time anyway, both sustaining injuries from a razor sharp set of claws which had required stitches. And so Dean had relented and reigned in his horses making Sam less worried about the chance of either of their injury lists becoming longer as a result of restlesness.
However, the price to pay for his brothers leniency was ending up on the road at an ungodly hour the next morning. Not that Sam was particularly bothered, he wasn't a good sleeper anyway and often found himself up at weird hours of the AM, torn from sleep by another of his nightmares or visions.
"So what makes you so sure that this is a Black dog anyway, and not just an angry stray?" Sam asked opening his window and closing his eyes as the cool morning breeze hit his face.
"How many stray dogs have you seen with 'shining red eyes' Sammy" Dean said, unable to keep the joy from his voice. He was having a blast, his feeling of freedom having been restored and the promise of a hunt on the horizon.
Sam nodded his head in acceptance, eyes still closed, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "True, red eyes would make it more likely to be a Black Dog I guess."
"That teamed with the fact it's seen only at night lurking around a graveyard makes me feel pretty damn certain about what we're facing here" Dean said moving his hand to turn up the volume of Blue Oyster Cult's Tattoo Vampire without taking his eyes off the road.
"So where we headed then, I really don't want to be stuck in the car travelling for days, we've been sitting still long enough" Sam said, his head unconsciously moving in time with the beat.
"Don't listen baby," Dean said stroking the wheel "Sammy here is too blinded by his ungratefulness to be able to fully appreciate how comfortable your leather interior actually is."
Sam only opened his eyes long enough to shoot a look of annoyance at his brother before shutting them again and facing the window. "Whenever your finished pillow talking to the car over there Dean, I wouldn't mind an answer to my question."
"Easy there Francis, wouldn't want you getting all that long, manly hair in a twist now would we," Dean said grinning at his brother's sigh "we're heading to Hampton, Iowa. I figured it was ideal being only two states over, we can do half the journey today and half tomorrow, stop over somewhere in Minnesota."
"Sounds good Dean" Sam said, leaning back into his seat with a contented sigh.
His brothers only response was to press the gas pedal to the floor sending the Impala shooting down the deserted highway.
Several hours and one driver change later, the Winchesters pulled into the parking lot of a motel in Avon, Minnesota. Dean hopped out of the passenger seat and stretched, wincing as the movement pulled on the stitches he had acquired as a result of the face off with the wendigo. He smiled as he realised he would be able to be rid of them as of the next morning. Sam would also be able to remove the ones from his chest leaving behind some interesting scars without doubt.
"Chicks dig scars" Dean mumbled to himself with a smile.
"What?" Sam asked as he got out from the car, also stretching his tired muscles.
"Oh nothing, just thinking out loud," Dean said heading towards the office of the motel "I'm starving, I'll book us in and then we can head over to the diner I saw on the way in."
"M'kay," Sam said, leaning against the car and looking around the lot in the afternoon light.
Dean headed to the desk and checked in the Cray brothers for the night before heading back over to the car. He elbowed Sam out of the way of the drivers door before sliding in behind the wheel. Sam frowned at him before walking around the car and getting in the other side.
"Dude you have issues."
"Don't like it Samantha, start walking" Dean said, laughter clinging to his words.
Half an hour later saw the hunters seated in one of the diners overly colourful booths waiting for the food. Dean tapped incessantly away on the plastic table with his fork, stopping only when Sam grabbed his wrist and shot him a death glare.
"So," he said forcing his voice to be even, his brother could be so irritating when he wanted to be "are we stocked up on consecrated iron for the dog?"
Dean tugged his wrist out of Sam's grasp, eyeing is brother evenly for a moment before resuming the tapping on the table. "Yep, we have plenty of iron rounds, and some salt. I read in dads journal that he wasn't one hundred percent sure that salt rounds would kill a Black Dog, but they can definitely hurt the suckers."
Sam bit the inside of his lip in an effort to stop himself from wrenching the fork from Dean's hand and throwing it across the diner. He almost jumped out of his chair and kissed the waitress when she walked towards the table bearing their food in her hands. Dean stopped his tapping, and stunned Sam by laying the offending fork on the table and diving into his burger and fries with his hands.
Taking a huge, messy bite, Dean looked up at Sam smiling before shouting "Hey Sammy, see food ahhh" and opening his mouth wide revealing a gross mixture of grey meat churned with bread bun.
Sam, just looked away from his brother, if he concentrated hard enough he could pretend he'd been born an only child.
They sat in silence for a while, Dean devouring his greasy meal with gusto, while Sam pushed his limp, browning salad around his plate. Dean looked up for a moment at the table next to their booth, pausing with a fry in his hand hovering near his mouth. His eyes narrowed. Slowly he continued to eat his meal, gaze never leaving whatever it was catching his attention.
Sam didn't notice Dean's actions, he was too busy staring out of the window into space, a glassy look in his eye. His attention was brought back into the room with a crash as Dean ungracefully lunged his torso out of their booth, snatching at a newspaper from the table next door.
Already absorbed in the front page article, Dean left it to Sam to apologise to the former occupier of the newspaper, who had barely set it down on the table and vacated his seat before the rough looking young man had swiped it. Barely acknowledging Sam's apology he walked towards the exit, nose in the air.
"Dean! What the hell was that all about" Sam demanded glaring at his brother.
"What? He was finished…the guy was taking so long reading the back page I was just about to take it out of his hands anyways," Dean replied, his eyes still scanning the article, "any rate, look what I just found" he said, flipping the newspaper around so Sam could see the headline.
"SECOND UNEXPLAINED TEEN DEATH IN AVON!"
There y'are, first chapter up and running. It's a little slow i know but scene setting and all that, update tomorrow. Chapter two is where the fun begins rubs hands
Tattoo Vampire belongs to Blue Oyster Cult-please dont sue me, I have no money anyway :)
drop me a line, all comments and critiques welcome
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