It had been a regular, run of the mill fight with one of those creatures parents thought they made up stories about to keep their children in bed at night, safe under their blankets with their nightlights on, but unlike every other altercation this one left Sam Winchester shaken. He'd seen plenty of ghosts and ghouls and other things that went bump in the night, hell, he'd even spent lot of time with one particular demon who claimed to be on his side, although this time… there was something different this time. Not that the demon was any stronger or any smarter than ever before nor was it afraid of him… not that they ever were… in fact, this demon didn't seem to have a care in the world. It had been rambling about a dramatic event that was going to happen soon. Unfortunately, no amount of holy water made it say anything more than that. He had thought that things couldn't get any worse but something bad had to be coming if a demon was excited over it. He tried to think of something, anything, that could be happening that he and his brother hadn't already encountered. There wasn't anything that came to mind unless it was actually the apocalypse. Nobody had encountered that.
This demon sure had put up a fight, though, and Sam had the wounds to prove it. His shoulder was killing him and there was a cut about his eyebrow that felt like it was still oozing blood. One shift in facial expression would have caused the congealing cut to break open again and blind him once more with blood. That was the last thing he needed right now. He was behind the wheel of his brother's baby. The last thing he wanted was to get blood in his eyes and end up off the road in a ditch. Dean was in worse shape than Sam was. He was sprawled out in the back seat slipping in and out of conciousness, occasionally muttering something to Sam. Sam couldn't really understand what Dean was trying to say, but he took it as a good sign that he was making noise. The demon they encountered had thrown Dean around like a rag doll and Sam was pretty sure that he had a few cracked ribs and a fractured wrist. And by the looks of the swelling ankle, he had either twisted it really bad or it was fractured as well. Sam couldn't imagine the pain his brother must've been experiencing, but it had to be a lot if big, tough, macho Dean kept passing out. Or maybe it was the fact that as soon as they got back to the car Dean had chugged the bottle of vodka they kept in the first aid kit instead of using it on his scrapes like Sam had told him to.
They had to find a place to bunk down for a few days so they could treat Dean's injuries but they had a good 10 miles to go before they were even near any sort of civilization. Sam had a knot in his stomach the size of a fist as he wondered how long Dean's buzz would keep him numb and the knot tightened as he felt the car sputtering to a halt. A glance at the fuel guage proved that they were out of gas.
"Damn it, Dean," Sam muttered, more to himself than to his brother. They had been in such a rush to jump on the latest case that they had somehow overlooked that one very important detail.
"Sammy," Dean slurred from the back seat. "We're not movin'."
"We're out of gas, Dean."
"Naaah. We can't be. The tank is always filled."
Sam took the keys out of the ignition after coasting safely off the main road and onto the shoulder. He turned to look at Dean. "I wouldn't lie about being out of gas when we're not in walking distance and you aren't even fit to walk. It's one in the morning and I doubt any tow truck would come out here for us."
"So we bunk down and sleep." Dean smiled stupidly and closed his eyes.
Sam sighed and turned back around in his seat. "You say that now. Just wait until you're sober." He knew as soon as the buzz wore off Dean would feel just how fucked up he was and demand that they do something soon about his injuries. Sam just didn't want to be stuck in a car when that happened.
Sam stared out the windshield at the road ahead of them and thought through the list of contacts he had acquired over the years. There had to be somebody they could call for help. He pulled out his phone and checked the GPS, finding out the name of the town they were closest to. It was some small town in Utah, but the name was familiar. It took him a minute to realize that the name of the town had been mentioned in his father's journal in reference to another hunter he had worked a case with. All of the woman's contact information had been written down and Sam had put it all in his phone, along with all the important contacts he had. He couldn't remember exactly what her name was, only that it began with the letter N. Luckily he didn't have many contacts in his phone that began with that specific number, but he did have to call a few different people until he found the right person.
"Hello?" The woman on the other end of the line sounded tired yet expectant.
"Hi. Can I speak to Nadine Smith, please?" Sam glanced in the rearview mirror at Dean, watching as he winced a little when he pressed a bit too hard on his bummed ankle.
"You're speaking to her."
"Mrs. Smith, this is Sam Winchester. I think you worked with my dad several years ago."
"John. Yes. One hell of a fight we had."
"Yes, well. I need to ask for a favor. Me and my brother are stranded 10 miles from town and Dean is injured. Is it possible for you to help us out? He needs medical attention. I know it's a bad hour to call, but I couldn't think of any other alternative." The words just seemed to spill from his lips as if getting them all out at once would make her more open to the idea of helping them out.
"Anything for John's boys." Nadine hadn't even hesitated in answering.
"Thank you so much, Mrs. Smith." Sam was honestly relieved that help was coming and that they wouldn't have to wait out the night in the car. Sure, they had done it countless timesbefore, but it wasn't the most comfortable. And Dean's comfort was what Sam was worried about for the moment.
"Please, Sam, call me Nadine. I'll be out to get you as quick as I can." Nadine had hung up before Sam could say anything else.
He sighed to himself in relief and tucked his phone back in his pocket. "Soon, Dean," he muttered to his half conscious sibling. "We'll be moving soon."
'Soon' turned out to be a little less than an hour. A silver Toyota sedan pulled up next to the broken down Impala and parked. A door opened and a woman got out of the car, hurrying over to the diver's door and knocking on the window. Sam rolled it down and looked out at the woman. "Nadine?"
Nadine nodded. "Yeah. Come on. We have to get moving. I hate being out on this road this late at night."
Sam cocked an eyebrow and got out of the Impala. "Why? Weird things happen on this road?" The hunter in him had jumped right into action.
Nadine laughed. "I took care of the ghost cars ages ago. Truckers use this road as a thoroughfare and they don't slow down for anything. You wouldn't believe how many deer have been killed here because of that."
The second wave of relief for the night swept through Sam as he helped Dean out of the car and into the back seat of the Toyota. Nadine must've had a family, Sam concluded. There were pieces of garbage on the floor of the car along with an empty tissue box and a cd case for some band he'd never heard of. His guess was they were local seeing as the cd sleeve was blatantly created with some basic graphic knowledge and was printed on regular printer paper. Too poor for the high gloss that professional cd sleeves were made of. Once Dean was nice and comfortable in the back, Sam joined Nadine in the front. "Thanks again, Mrs… Nadine."
"Dean looks pretty beat up. We'll take him to the ER and get him checked out. Better to be safe than sorry, right?" Nadine sped off towards town and Sam hoped that no truckers would zoom by through the night and crush Dean's car.
(A.N: This is my first piece of fan fiction in several years and my first dealing with the show Supernatural. I'd love some feedback and constructive criticism, just please be positive. There is more to come. Promise.)