Dean Winchester pulled into the gas station, and in front of the gas pump. He looked over at his younger brother, Sam and said, "Hey, ah, could you get the gas? I kinda have to-" He nodded his head.
"Sure," Sam said, then got out of the car, the same time Dean did.
"Oh, thank you," Dean said, sounding relieved and almost grateful, "Thank you so much." They had just arrived in the town of Blue Rocket, Michigan on a case. In the last month alone there has been six fatal "animal attacks" and at least two people had just gone plain missing, one of them a pregnant woman. And they had discovered at least ten more attacks like that in the last year, and the ear of a runaway teen had been found looking like it had been bit off. Nine of these incidents matched up with the lunar cycle perfectly, and even though the others were out of sync with said cycle, it wouldn't be the first time a werewolf transformed when it wasn't a full moon lately. So they drove for about seventeen hours nonstop across country, half that time with Dean holding a full bladder, so he was very egger to go relieve himself.
A bell went off as Dean entered the store. He turned to a store clerk, a pale man with glasses about the same age as him, and asked, "Hey, um, you guys have, ah, a bathroom right?"
"Down that isle, then turn left," The clerk said, pointing out the direction and sounding board.
"Thanks man," Dean said, then ran in the directing the clerk had pointed out. He didn't notice however that before that moment he walked through the woman in a denim jacket who had been in there before he came in had hid behind the row of chips and was ducked down in the isle beside the one he ran down, almost cringing at his footsteps.
The woman waited while before she stood up. She warily walked to the other side of the room and hid away in the corner. She didn't want the man who had just come in and fled to the bathroom to notice her. She could smell the snatch of old death on him the moment he walked in. That the overall look of him just screamed out to her, "hunter." "What in God's creation is he doing here?" She though. She knew it was a stupid question the moment she thought it, the same thing that brought her here, those friggin' werewolves attacks. She nervously put a strain of her long dark hair that was flying lose behind her ear. After what seemed to her like an eternity, the young man finally stepped out into the store and out of the door, her eyes following his every movement. He went out and joined a younger, albeit strangely taller, man at a pump in front of an old black car. When they drove off and the car wasn't even a speck in the distance, she quickly got the crappy cup of coffee she had came for from the machine, paid for it and got back in truck, a red one with a covered bed. She let out a deep breath and slid her hand down her face. "What am I going to do?" She thought. She couldn't risk running into them again. It was too dangerous for her. Maybe she should just leave, look for another job and leave them to this one. "No,' She decided to herself, "I have to be on this one. I know more about Werewolves than anybody else, even those two guys, whoever they are. I just have to avoid them into this is over." It had to be that way. If they found out her secret, they wouldn't split hairs, they wouldn't care that she was a hunter like them. If they found out she was dead.