A series of short chapters from the boys' trip to Scotland. I do not own Supernatural. I wish I owned Cas. Please review, it's my first Supernatural fic and I'm starting a big project with a friend soon, so I'd like to know if my characterisation is ok.
2
"Travelling to one of the most haunted cities in the world. I dunno if I like that," murmered Dean to himself as Sam read the Metro, the free newspaper that seemed to be everywhere.
"It'll be fine Dean. We're gonna be picking up the car and heading up to Canisbay as soon as we get to Edinburgh anyway," came the reply. "At least enjoy the view. We're not likely to be back in Scotland again."
"Of all the places this guy had to be buried, it's frikkin' Canisbay," Dean sighed.
That was the moment the conductor came through.
"Tickets please."
The brothers took out their tickets and gave them to the man. He took a second to look over them.
"Canisbay did I hear? What's takin' two American fellas up there then?"
"Family business," Dean replied with a faked smile.
"Ahh, funny thing I thought, goin' so far north. Thought it had to be something like that," he replied, smiling all the way. He gave the tickets back with a nod.
"Have fun up north! Hope ye brought some warm clothes with ye, gets pretty chilly in that neck'a the woods," he turned away and proceeded to check the other passengers' tickets.
Dean turned to stare out of the window again.
They pulled into Edinburgh Waverly in the late afternoon. After some navigation of the buses and getting directions from others, they found their car rental place. Sam had booked the car, Dean was not impressed when they were given the keys and found themselves standing in front of it.
"A Prius, Sam? A frikkin' Prius!"
"It was the cheapest one, and it'll be the best one for stopping for gas, I don't know how many stations we'll pass up in the mountains."
"Well I ain't driving that thing. Not on the wrong side'a the road."
He planted the keys firmly into Sam's hand and moved to get into the passenger seat. He paused and changed direction. "The wrong side," he growled.
As they got into their respective seats, Sam moved to the radio.
"Hey, what you doin'?" asked Dean.
Sam plugged in his iPod. "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole."
Dean fumed, this was going to be a long trip.