"Shit."
"Christ."
"Ah, man… so fuckin' hot."
"Mmm."
Dean wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, giving an irritated growl at the amount of sweat that came off. He glanced at Sam, who lay sprawled across the passenger seat lazily, one long arm hanging out the open window. With a sigh, Dean cranked the key in the ignition once more, only getting a sputter out of the Impala.
"Fucking dammit," he cursed, shrugging out of his leather jacket and tossing it into the back seat. "Of all the times for her to fizz, it has to be now."
Sam slowly dragged himself into a mostly upright position, rubbing his eyes warily. Heat always made the younger Winchester drowsy. "Dean, maybe we should get out and walk down the street. See if we can…" yawn, "get some help."
Dean raised a shoulder, bowing his head and wiping his face across the dry shirt while he reached into one pocket and pulled out his phone. "First lemme see if I can call a tow truck… Or Bobby, he's not far off, workin' a job in some town…" With a flick of his wrist, he opened his phone, eyes darting to the signal bars. But in their place was a big fucking red 'X', taunting him.
"No goddamn signal," he hissed through clenched teeth. He opened his door and stepped out of the car, walking a ways down the dirt road and holding his phone in the air, his free hand shading the screen so he could see as he searched for a signal. But no hope. He walked the other way, doing the same, but still nihil. Fuck.
He gave a sharp shake of his head and growled, snapping his phone shut and shoving the piece of shit in his pocket again before stalking to Sam's side of the car. He stood there a moment before he yanked open the door and Sam came tumbling out, as he'd been leaning on the door and snoring lightly. Dean felt a small pang of satisfaction as Sam cursed and started whining, standing and dusting himself off.
"Alright, let's go, bitch," he said and closed the door behind Sam, who mumbled "jerk" under his breath as they started down the road, side by side and steps in sync.