The police station was nearly empty; one lone officer remained hauling through the last hours of the graveyard shift. He was almost finished the extensive paperwork that seemed to be the only thing he had done if fifty years, when his radio crackled to life, a groggy commissioner on the other end. "Collins, we've got a wreck out on highway 14" the voice buzzed over the walkie-talkie, officer Drake Collins rubbed his forehead with his calloused hand, he thought that his night would be over soon, now he had to deal with some kids running into a telephone pole. The tired policeman sighed and replied shortly,
"I'm on my way" he said with a sigh. When Collins got to the scene, the ambulance was already there, wheeling a corpse on a gurney out of the wreckage which was blocked off with yellow tape. Out of the corner of his eye Collins saw a little girl being held close by an empty looking man who was standing next to the flashing vehicle. "Excuse me, sir" Collins started out in the most soothing voice that he could muster, this man obviously wasn't one of the medical workers. He looked at the officer with hollow eyes filled with apathy and detachment. "Umm, can you give me some details about what happened here?" He asked as a few medics ran by them with stern looks on their faces. The man shuddered and gripped the little tighter to his chest.
"My wife ran into a tree" he said dryly, staring ahead at nothing. Collins immediately regretted his decision to talk to this man and sought out a professional who was less occupied. He found a medic in the ambulance who was packing away a few hostile looking instruments, she offered him a weak smile as he peered into the ambulance.
"Can I help you?" She asked and he nodded flashing her his badge.
"So the driver hit a tree?" He asked and the medic nodded,
"Yeah, smashed the entire car up pretty bad, it's amazing that the little baby made it out without a scratch." He nodded and jotted down a few notes for his report,
"Was she intoxicated?" He asked and the medic shrugged.
"Autopsy might be able to find that out, but we did find a few crumpled grocery bags in the trunk, it looked like she was running errands." He raised his eyebrows,
"At this time of night?" The woman shook her head,
"I guess so" she clucked finishing her work and shaking her head.
"Who reported the accident?" He asked and the medic thought for a moment…
"He didn't leave his name, but when the ambulance got here there were two men, one of them was holding the little girl. They had gotten her out of the car and wrapped her up in a shabby blue blanket, it was actually cute… but then we saw the mother." Her eyes grew dark and she moved to climb out of the car. He moved out of her way and nodded,
"I see. Where are they now?" She shrugged,
"They took off after giving their statements."
It was dark out, but the air was warm. Sam and Dean were striding down a dusty dirt road towards the Impala at around midnight. Dean had a shotgun slung across his shoulder and was swaggering confidently, a triumphant smirk on his lips.
"Dude, did you see that thing? It was freakin' huge!" Sam smiled weakly, the knife in his inner coat pocket weighing heavily on his steps. "Fast too" Dean continued, "but not as fast as us, right?" Dean's smirk grew at his brother, expecting a confident response; instead Sam was studying the ground, and he refused to look at his brother's face. "Earth to Sam" Dean said unlocking the trunk and easing in the shotgun.
"Right" Sam mumbled finally looking up. Dean's face was smeared with mud, they had spent most of the night tracking down a chupacabra like creature. They had killed the bitch, but Sam had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he felt like something bad was going to happen, something he couldn't stop. Dean closed the trunk and walked around to the drivers side, jingling his keys out of his pocket. Sam walked to the passenger side out of habit, but when he saw the keys in Dean's hand the feeling in his stomach grew from uneasiness to violent panic. His eyes grew wide, but he didn't open the door, in fact he refused to move from his spot by the passenger's side.
"Dude, are you getting in or what?" Dean asked, his door was open but he hadn't gotten in yet. Sam looked at him, his eyes wild with fear.
"Let me drive." He said, his eyes fixed intently on the gleaming metal keys.
"What? No, Sam are you okay?" Dean asked Sam's gaze didn't waver,
"Let me drive" he said again. Dean furrowed his brow and laughed,
"Come on, man, you are not driving. Now get in." He threw himself into the car and refused to hear the recalcitrant pleas of his brother. Sam got in reluctantly but the panic in his chest did not subside. It started drizzling and Dean flicked on the windshield wipers. Sam was fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat and it was beginning to annoy Dean. "What is wrong with you?" Dean asked and Sam clenched his eyes shut as if he was in pain.
"Nothing, nothing, I'm fine." He lied, the anxiousness growing to almost an excruciating point.
"Okay, man." Dean said tearing his eyes off of his brother and fixing them back onto the road. Sam saw the soft glow of approaching headlights, but Dean apparently didn't,
"Dean" Sam mumbled, and Dean's head immediately whipped around to his brother, his eyes full of worry, "Dean…watch out" Sam groaned the pain in his chest bubbling over and causing his voice to be only slightly above a whisper. Dean didn't look away from his brother, even as the horn of the oncoming double wide blasted in Sam's ears. Dean seemed unfazed.
"Sam, what is it? What's wrong?" Dean asked. Sam pried open his eyes and let out a gasp. The oncoming truck was only a few feet away from the car.
"Dean…the truck" Sam gasped out, it felt like all of the air had been sucked from his lungs. Dean looked out the windshield, but apparently he didn't see anything.
"Are you okay, man?" Dean asked, Sam looked in the rear-view mirror and saw the eighteen wheeler coming up on them from behind. The lights were shining brightly into the Impala, both horns were blaring at an inhuman level. How could Dean not see them? Not hear them? They were going to be crushed and Dean didn't seem to see that. Sam forced down the building pain that was surging through his entire body and screamed.
"DEAN!" His eyes flew open and he greedily gulped down the desperately needed air. The pain seemed to have vanished from his limbs, and both trucks seemed to have disappeared as well. He was panting and it took him a few seconds to gain his bearings. He was in a cramped motel room in a rather lumpy bed with stuffy air that smelled like cigarettes. He sat up and ran his hands through his hair taking a few deep breaths to calm down. A few seconds later the lights clicked on. And Sam reluctantly met the eyes of a concerned Dean.
"Sam?" He asked groggily, "what… was that?" Sam let out a long, low breath and shook his head.
"Nothing" Sam insisted, not very convincingly. Dean blinked,
"Dude, you were screaming my name" Sam cursed his open-lipped psyche.
"We were in the car, and there were these trucks…" his voice trailed off and Dean nodded,
"It was only a dream" he sighed lying back down and switched off the lights again. Sam had just lied back down and was getting comfortable again when a soft ring snapped him back from the hazy half dream world he was settling into. Sam heard the bed next to his squeak and muttered obscenities as Dean sat up.
"Someone does not want me to sleep tonight" Dean grumbled as he flipped open the phone. "Hello?" He groused. His eyes immediately were cleared of the sleep that lingered in them as he heard the static-ridden voice over the other end, "yeah…okay…are you sure?" The answer was apparently not what Dean wanted to hear and he let out a slight sigh of frustration, "alright, yeah… no, no he's not here…he's wrapped up with another gig right now…yeah, yeah it's too bad, but Sam's here though." Dean's face fell; and his characteristic smirk was wiped off of his face, "four kids, huh?" He shut his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. "Yeah, okay…defiantly. We'll be there." He hung up and eased out of the bed, throwing on some jeans and his jacket.
"Who was that?" Sam asked, grudgingly throwing off the covers.
"Evan Boone, Cee Vee Texas." Dean said shortly, getting their bags together quickly.
"Texas? Fun." Sam said sarcastically tossing on some clothes and catching the duffle bag that Dean threw at him.
"Yeah, something is –uh- taking children…" Dean cleared his throat and his voice trailed off as he headed for the door. Sam sighed; dead kids were never easy to deal with, even for the toughest of hunters. That explained Dean's urgency and the look on is face. They didn't pay their fee; there wasn't anybody at the counter when they walked out. They just up and left and were in the car before Sam realized what had happened, and who was driving.