A/N: So I've been in desperate need for humor after the season finale (when listening to Bon Jovi makes me cry, it's definitely time for a pick-me-up).
This oneshot was inspired by a scene from Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. For those of you haven't seen it - go. Even if you've never seen any of the earlier ones - it was pretty sweet. There's no spoilers for Supernatural or IndianaJones (other than the fact there is a simialr-themed chase scene - but the scenes in and of themselves aren't very similar at all).
Dedicated to Jenn, who convinced me (or coerced me) into making this a oneshot.
Disclaimer: If I owned this, it wouldn't be fanfiction - this would show up in the show.
The heavy thuds of boots pounding on concrete echoed down the alley, nearly masking the desperate gasps for air. The light from the setting sun cast long shadows through the windows of the warehouse, masking the fleeing figure in alternating strips of darkness and light.
Dean paused, leaning against the rough brick wall as he tried to catch his breath. He considered himself to be in pretty decent shape for running (excellent shape for… other activities) but running in a near sprint for six city blocks would take a lot out of most people.
He stifled a groan when he heard the approaching footsteps of the thugs chasing after him, his right hand probing at his jaw. He hissed as his fingers lightly brushed over the deep bruise already forming. He couldn't help but smirk at the weight of the wad of cash in his pocket, though. Provided he could get out of this in one piece, it would so be worth it.
"Damn it, Sammy," Dean gasped, trying to blend into the shadows as angry voices joined the footsteps. "Where are you?"
He felt a slight twinge of panic when he thought of how he had left Sam behind at the bar, tossing the Impala keys in his general direction before taking off, trying to lead the pissed-off bikers away from both his baby and his baby brother. He could only hope he had succeeded in drawing away all of the bikers and that Sam was on his way with the Impala… or else they were in a lot deeper trouble than he thought.
Right on cue, the deep echoing thrums of several motorcycle engines grew louder, and Dean thumped the back of his head back against the brick wall, his heart sinking. "Crap," he muttered, pulling a deep breath into his lungs and taking off again, his legs much less sturdy this time.
He glanced over his shoulder as one of the Harleys screeched around the corner of the street, causing a couple of motorists to honk angrily. Dean felt his feet come to a sudden halt, and if his jaw hadn't been so sore, it would've probably dropped.
Sam was bent low behind the small motorcycle windscreen, his mop of hair whipped out behind him. He came to a screeching halt, the back tire swinging around as he stopped in front of Dean. "Get on!" he hollered over the rumbling engine.
Dean spluttered for a moment, driven speechless by the sight of his brother on a frickin' Harley – not to mention the nice shiner starting to form over Sam's left eye. "Where's the car?" he demanded.
"Later! Get on now, Dean!" Sam snapped back, reaching out with one hand to snag Dean's leather jacket as several Harleys rounded the corner.
Dean slid on the seat behind his brother, still trying to figure out just what the hell was going on. Sam revved up the engine, shoulders hunched in anticipation. "Hang on!"
Dean barely had enough time to register the warning before the Harley shot forward. He hollered (not screamed – Dean Winchester did not scream) in surprise, his arms latching around Sam's chest as they drove straight for the small pack of bikers. He felt Sam's entire body tense a split-second before the bike swerved violently to the right, the tires hopping up onto the sidewalk with a body-jarring thump. "Sorry!" Sam called over the wind and the roaring engine as Dean cursed when his jaw connected with Sam's back.
The elder Winchester's hold tightened instinctively on his brother as the motorcycle swerved around a corner. The bike went dangerously close to the ground, but Sam quickly righted it and accelerated down the street.
"Where's my car?" Dean hollered again.
"Couldn't get to it!"
"What?" Dean bellowed, flinching as Sam zipped between two cars and turned right at a red light, narrowly avoiding a large truck that had been turning left. "What do you mean you couldn't get to it?"
"A couple of them had chains! There was no way to get out without them damaging the car!" Sam called back, twisting his head slightly so Dean could hear him.
Again Dean wished his jaw wasn't quite so sore, because it would've dropped once more. Sam was worried about the car? "So you hijacked a bike?"
Dean felt Sam shrug as he smoothly handled a left turn. "It was closer! And they didn't know which car was ours yet, so it should be fine!" he replied. "Whoa!"
Dean grunted again as the motorcycle's tires squealed when Sam tried to stop suddenly. The back tire started sliding to the left, and Dean winced when it caught the median dividing the two sides of traffic. "What the-" His eyes widened when he caught sight of what Sam had – five big Harleys roaring towards them, each holding two very pissed-off giant guys.
"Remind me to never let you hustle at a biker bar again!" Sam shouted, revving the engine again. "Hang on – this is gonna get a bit rough!"
"'A bit'?" Dean repeated, a hint of hesitancy in his voice, wondering faintly if his brother had somehow been possessed by the spirit of Evel Knievel.
He could practically sense Sam's smirk as the bike darted forward, wincing as the bike bucked over the median and merged into traffic once again. Dean swallowed audibly, squeezing his eyes shut as Sam eased the Harley between a moving minivan and a parked Volkswagen Beetle. Tires squealed and the stench of burnt rubber filled the air as the bike dipped down to the right when Sam zipped around another right turn.
"Hang on!"
The exclamation made Dean's eyes pop open just in time to see Sam driving down a small alley, aiming for a few plywood boards conveniently stacked against a dumpster blocking the exit out of the alley. "You aren't really-"
Dean swallowed his words a moment later as the engine revved. The bike changed angles suddenly, and a moment later Dean's stomach dropped down to the vague area of his boots as the Harley popped into the air. Sam whooped – he's enjoying this! Dean thought faintly – as the bike sailed forward. A moment later, the air was forcibly driven from both Winchesters' lungs as the bike landed painfully on the other side of the dumpster. Dean felt a dull pain throughout his entire body as the bike wobbled briefly before straightening out.
They drove on for another ten minutes, Sam confidently easing his way around and through traffic, effectively loosing their large and angry tails. The trip went by in a blur to Dean, who had resigned himself to squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his face into his brother's back, doing his best to keep his dinner – which was disgusting enough the first time, thank you very much – from making a reappearance.
At long last, the younger hunter eased the bike to a stop. The engine died out, and Dean's body shuddered as the vibrations that had been rumbling through him ceased. Silence reigned for a long moment.
"Dean? You okay?"
Dean swallowed and managed to weakly pull his face out of Sam's jacket. "Am I okay?" he croaked, looking up at Sam, who had twisted his head around to glance worriedly at his brother. "I'm pretty sure my stomach is somewhere back there. My heart, too."
Sam chuckled. A moment later, Dean felt warm hands grip his forearms as Sam gently forced Dean's arms to unwrap from around his ribs. Both Winchesters eased themselves off the bike, and Dean noticed for the first time that they were back in the bar parking lot, next to the Impala. "Hoooo, baby, you are a sight for sore eyes… and a sore body," he sighed, laying a hand on the cool black metal.
Sam fished the keys from his pocket and handed them to his brother. Dean couldn't help but notice the sparkle of life in Sam's eyes (eye, rather – that left one was swelling up pretty fast) or the smile that was struggling to stay hidden. "Sorry for the rough treatment."
Dean cocked his head as Sam moved towards the passenger side of the car. "Where the hell did you learn how to drive a bike like that? Or to even hotwire a bike?"
A faint flush crept up over Sam's cheeks. "I read about the hotwiring thing in a book."
Dean rolled his eyes and snorted. "Figures. But that driving? Dude, that's not something you can learn from a book."
Sam shrugged with a shoulder, running a hand through his windblown hair, wincing faintly as his hand strayed too close to his bruised eye. "Zack taught me."
"Zack? As in Rebecca's brother Zack?"
Sam nodded, smiling wistfully as he leaned on the roof of the car. "He had his own bike, and he paid for me to rent one sometimes. We'd go riding on the weekends once in awhile. Sometimes we'd race." He ducked his head, eyes shrouded by his bangs. "I'd take Jessica on rides, too. She always said it added a little excitement to our otherwise monotonous lives."
"Huh," Dean replied softly. A comfortable silence fell over them for a moment. "Well, this just proves a point."
Sam's head popped up at that. "What?"
Dean smirked as he opened his door. "There is no way I am ever letting you drive my baby again, psycho."
And as he eased his aching body into the car, Dean decided Sam's genuine laugh made the entire episode worth it.
A/N: Thanks again for reading! As always, any and all comments are appreciated! Have a great one!
moogsthewriter