It all started with a four-way intersection on a crisp morning. Sam was idly sipping his cardboard cup full of coffee while Dean sat in the driver's seat, tapping his fingers and humming to Mad World as they waited for the light to turn green.
The brothers had just finished smoking out a rather stubborn ghost and were on their way to a case that Bobby had given them when it happened. The loud bang of a gunshot and the sound of a voice yelling rather obscene curses. Moments later, a flash of denim and flannel slid over the hood of the Impala and ducked on Sam's side of the car.
Dean cussed as Sam opened his door, staring at the person tucked by the back tire. The offender was a young boy from the looks of it, wearing a torn up flannel shirt and ripped jeans. Upon closer inspection, Sam could tell that the flannel-clad kid was in fact a girl in her late teens, early twenties. Her hair was just cropped close to her skull.
Two more gunshots sounded (closer this time) and the brothers knew they had to make a decision.
Dean leaned over and opened the back seat, motioning for the girl to get in. Her stark grey eyes flew to Dean's face, and she threw herself into the vehicle, slamming the door shut behind her. Immediately, Dean pushed onto the accelerator, and they were flying down the street of a small town.
Sam blinked in surprise, giving his brother a look. Dean just shrugged and glanced at the heavy breathing female in the back seat. "What's your name?"
The girl licked her chapped lips and looked between her saviors. "Winny," she replied, pulling her shirt around her more and gripping onto her shoulder, which Sam noticed had dried blood on it.
"Winny? Is that short for something?" Dean inquired gruffly.
"Uh, yeah," The girl, Winny, said rather cryptically. "Thanks for saving my ass," she muttered a moment later, freckled cheeks tinged pink.
"Yeah, what was that, anyways?" Sam butted in. He didn't understand why his brother oh-so-willingly let a stranger being chased by someone with a gun into his car. Especially in their line of work, things like that were dangerous.
"Oh, uh, I got caught," Winny muttered.
The boys gave her a look.
"I was stealing a water bottle and some chips, and the owner dude caught me." She shrugged, before asking, "Was that even legal? Like, chasing me with a gun and all."
The brothers ignored her. Sam finished his coffee and sighed, before looking back at her, "Why were you stealing?"
"I'm kinda homeless as of now. In case the torn clothes and bad hygiene didn't give you the hint," she replied sassily.
Sam didn't know how to reply, so Dean took the initiative. "How long have you been living on the streets, kid?" Winny rolled her eyes and sat up more, "Only a couple of months. I turned eighteen and got kicked out of my last foster home. Had no money, nowhere to go, so I started hitch hiking, you know?"
Dean hummed, and soon the trio arrived at their motel room. "We gotta get our stuff. We aren't from around here, either."
The strange teen nodded as the brothers got out of the Impala.
Winny didn't quite know what to do, so she simply stayed put and twiddled her thumbs awkwardly. Moments later, the door opened, and Dean motioned for her to come out too.
Slowly, the short haired girl got out and followed the two into the motel room. She didn't feel comfortable with them (she wasn't very partial to the idea of being raped or killed at the moment) so Winny ran a hand over her scalp and awkwardly stood by the door.
She watched Sam rifle through a bag, before he took out a first aid kit. He looked up at Winny and motioned for her to sit. "I saw your shoulder," he explained, "let me clean it up for you." She nodded with a small frown and took off her flannel shirt, leaving her with a dirty tank top and jeans. Her scuffed Converse kicked at the floor as Sam analyzed the damage with wide eyes.
Dean looked over his brother's shoulder and his eyes widened like his brother's. "What the hell? That doesn't look like any bullet wound I've ever seen."
Winny blushed and craned her neck in an attempt to look at the wound. "I don't know how I got it. Just woke up with it yesterday morning."
Sam frowned and quickly cleaned the large claw mark while his brother packed the rest of their stuff.
As the younger Winchester put peroxide on the cut, Winny hissed, squeezing her almond eyes shut and her nose scrunching from the pain. Sam mumbled an apology before wrapping the wound and taking the torn shirt from Winny when she tried to put it back on. "No, I'm throwing this out. Your tank top, too. You need something cleaner so it doesn't infect the wound. I'll let you use one of mine."
The girl's eyes widened as she looked up at him, before nodding slowly and taking the large tee shirt from him. She then stood up, "I'll go change in the bathroom, then," she said, before quickly retreating to the other room, closing and locking the door behind her.
Outside, she could hear the muffled voices of the brothers talking.
"So, what are we going to do with her?" The gruff voice of the driver, Dean, said.
"Well, we can't just leave her. Her shoulder will get infected." Sam replied.
"Guess she's coming with us for now? Maybe we can stop by Bobby's and ask for advice." Dean said.
There was a mumble of agreement from Sam, followed by shuffling noises and softer murmurs that Winny couldn't understand. She shook her head and looked herself in the mirror, before washing her face off and using the restroom. Once she was all finished up, she stepped out of the bathroom and cleared her throat.
Both brothers looked up at her, and she gave a small, albeit nervous smile. "So what now?"