Here it is, sorry it took so long. I'm alternating between writing a chapter for this story and then one for my Superman Returns story.
Thanks again to BrookeyBabe and all my other reviewers. I do so love the reviews, so if you haven't review yet, join the inner circle and submit one please.
North Dakota in the wintertime was what Dean imagined Hell was like. Fire didn't scare him, but bitter cold made him feel like death reheated in a Styrofoam take-out container. As he and Sam headed for the cozy looking pub, he pulled his leather jacket closer around him and shivered against the freezing wind.
Underneath the sound of the roaring wind and pounding snow, Dean heard something he couldn't quite identify. He headed in the direction of the noise, trying to ignore the cold surrounding him. He heard the sound of Sam's footsteps behind him, and was glad that his brother knew him well enough to follow him without questions.
He turned the corner of the bar, and saw a sight that made his blood run hot with anger. A burly no-neck redneck had a girl pinned to the wall of the building, one meaty hand clasped around her throat. He laughed cruelly as she struggled, and expertly dodged a knee that would've taken him out of commission.
Dean couldn't get a good look at the woman's face as he ran over to the pair, but he heard her soft groan in pain. He tapped the man on the shoulder, and when the skinhead turned in his direction, he threw a nasty left hook. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the girl crumple to the ground when the man was forced to release her, and saw that Sam immediately dive for her and pull her out of harm's way.
The ferocious giant was about the same height as Dean, but he was a good hundred pounds heavier. He whirled and knocked Dean to the ground, bloodying his nose, but was laid low by a kick with Dean's heavy leather boot to the groin. He groaned and attempted to stand, but Dean had already leapt to his feet and delivered another kick to the scarred, tattooed face and knocked him unconscious.
He looked over to Sam, who was holding two fingers against the limp woman's throat and after a minute he gave a relieved sigh. "She's okay, but we better get her inside somewhere, and I don't think that the bar would be the best place."
She began to come to, and whispered something to Sam. He bent his head down and listened for a second. After a moment he nodded his head and scooped her up into his arms.
"The motel next door, she's got a room there, room 67." Sam said hurriedly as he headed for the car.
Dean jogged ahead and started the car. Sam climbed in beside him, the girl across his lap, unconscious again. Dean drove the car around to the next parking lot, parking in the space across from room 67.
Sam climbed out of the car, the key he'd pulled from the girl's pocket in his hand. He handed it to Dean, who unlocked the door, feeling his hands already going numb in the cold. He pushed open the door, and rubbed his hands together appreciatively at the room's balmy temperature.
Sam laid the girl on the bed as Dean closed the door behind him. Sam pushed the young woman's hair off her face, revealing a split and bleeding lip, and a rapidly reddening cheek. And against the pale skin of her neck, a deep blue bruise was already beginning to appear.
Dean turned around, having locked both the regular lock and the chain, and froze. He ran over to the bed, his face filled with anguish. "For the love of John Fogerty..." He said half under his breath.
Sam stared as brother, deeply confused. "What?" Then he looked down again at the girl, this time actually taking in her features. "Oh..."
The girl's eyes snapped open. She panicked when she saw two pairs of eyes staring back at her. She jumped to her feet and backing against the wall. Her eyes, the color of newly mown grass, were wild with fear and darted from the window to the snow dusted pair in front of her.
"Cait." Dean said quietly, trying to keep his voice calming. He knew he must look pretty scary with a mixture of blood and dirt on his face. "Cait, it's me."
Her eyes darted to his face, and she visibly relaxed. "Dean? What are you doing here?"
"We came to...see an old friend of our dad's." Dean made up on the spot. "Are you okay?"
She touched the fingers of one hand against her throat, and pulled them away quickly, wincing. She turned around and caught sight of herself in the mirror. Then she turned back to the two men standing by her bed.
"I will be." She went to the bathroom, and came back with a damp cloth, offering it to Dean. "You might need this, you've got blood," She motioned to her nose and mouth. "Well, everywhere."
He took it and thanked her. Then he watched her go to the bathroom again, and heard the tap in the sink run. He wiped off his face with the cloth, absently using the mirror as a reference.
"She's that girl from the bar, isn't she?" Sam asked quietly while the water still ran.
Dean nodded, but was stopped from saying anything more when she came out of the bathroom, her face wiped clean of any trace of blood.
She smiled slowly at the brothers. "I'm sorry, I forgot to say thanks for saving me earlier. I really am grateful."
Dean shook his head while Sam remained silent. "You don't need to thank us. How did you end up being tossed around by the third-Reich piece of blubber?"
She smiled, embarrassed. "I suggested that everyone was created equal. Oh and I think sometime during that argument I called Hitler's ideals...uh, what did I say? Oh, right! 'The lunatic ravings of a misshapen loony.'"
Sam finally spoke. "Do you normally pick fights with guys three times your size?"
She shrugged. "It happens more often than you'd think. I guess I was just a little slow today, usually I can take them out before they get ahold of me."
"How did you get on that topic anyway?" He asked, interested in why she would want to pick a fight with that Aryan looking guy.
She shrugged again. "Black history month, you know."
"What are you doing here?" Dean asked, since she'd already asked them the same question.
"Visiting an old friend of mine, she moved out here right after high school." She looked over at Sam. "We haven't been properly introduced yet..."
Dean spoke up for the first time in awhile. "This is my baby brother Sammy."
Sam shook her hand as she held it out. "The name's Sam."
A ghost of a smile flickered over her face, but she quickly masked it. "Nice to meet you Sam."
Dean woke up in room 65, the one next to Cait's, the next morning. He and Sam had stayed in her room, talking, til the early morning. Than they'd rented their own room and grabbed some much-needed sleep.
He looked over and saw Sam lying face-down on his own bed, the pillow pulled over him to block out the sunlight that filtered through the gap between the curtains. Dean laughed quietly as he headed for the shower.
A few minutes later however, he heard the familiar sound of an American-made motor. He flicked off the water and after tying a towel around his waist, he went to look out the front window.
He watched in shock as he saw a White Dodge Charger roar out of the parking lot. As it turned to the left, away from the hotel, he caught a glimpse of the driver. It was Cait.
Dun dun dun! Okay, so a bunch of you'd already guessed that the car was hers, but still. Hope you liked it, please review. Now I've got to go, Superman awaits.
