Chapter 2
Dean pulled over to a local diner in a little unnamed town. He nudged his brother awake.
"I don't know about you, but I'm starving!" Dean rubbed his tummy.
Sam sat up straight and glanced at the diner in front of him. The light from the sign was fading in and out of what was intended to be "Earl's Diner." Sam snorted and turned to face Dean.
"Are you serious?" Sam inquired but was unsurprised that Dean would choose a joint like this. "If this doesn't yell Sommella, I don't know what would."
Dean slapped Sam on the back and rolled his eyes. "Come on, Sammy! We have to eat, and the food may be...what do they say?" "Oh yeah, Chef's Kiss," Dean thought. He made a loud, obnoxious kissing sound with his finger tips to his lips.
Sam rolled his eyes and opened the imapla door. He shut the door and glared at the door and shot a glare at Dean.
"By the way, it's Sam," he remarked as he approached the diner's front door. He despised being addressed as Sammy. Regardless of how many times Sam corrected him, Dean never stopped.
"It's Sam to you, but Sammy to me," Dean said as he trailed his younger brother.
They walked into the diner. It smelled like cigarette smoke and stale coffee. The floors were plainly not maintained clean, and the wallpaper was beginning to peel. One waitress was gazing down at a magazine while conversing with another man who was sipping on a cup of coffee. When the doorbell rang, both glanced up to see the brothers walk in.
"Well, this is awkward," Sam grumbled, looking down at his feet.
Dean nudged an elbow into Sam's side, "Stop complaining and let's sit."
"Stop complaining and let's sit," Dean prodded Sam's side.
They walked up to a table and slid into a booth. The waitress walked over. She was a short, stocky woman in her mid-50s. She slapped two menus down before removing a pad of paper from her apron. "Can I get you boys something to drink?" She wheezed, the result of several years of smoking.
"Water, please," Sam said.
"I'll have a coffee," Dean said, winking. The waitress left, leaving the two brothers alone.
Sam lowered his gaze to the menu, a disgusted expression on his face. "Everything on here is a heart attack waiting to happen, Dean."
"The best part, Sammy boy!" Dean exclaimed as he debated between the Double Bacon Cheeseburger and the Steak & Fries."
Sam shook his head and moaned. He looked to the back of the menu, which offered a limited selection of reasonably healthy selections. He took one look at the first item and decided to go with it. The waitress arrived a few seconds later with the drinks and took their orders.
"I've read about the attack, and I don't believe it's a werewolf, Dean." Sam stated as he sipped his water. Dean raised an eyebrow and looked up.
"Sam," he continued flatly, "massive scratches on the back, lacking a heart." "That shouts werewolf."
"I know, but why would they only target one person?"
"I'm not sure, Man," "Maybe it wasn't feeling it after the victim," Dean sighed.
Sam stared at Dean, a puzzled expression on his face.
"It wasn't feeling it?" "Are you really going with that?" he replied.
"No, but I recognize a werewolf attack when I see one...or hear about one." Dean stated shrewdly.
"All I'm saying is—" Sam began before Dean cut him off.
"Listen, it's a wherewolf. I don't want to talk about it any longer." Dean stated forcefully as he placed his coffee cup on the table.
"Sir, yes." Sam said, clearly mocking Dean.
Dean fixed his gaze on Sam. He was about to respond when a large hamburger was placed in front of his face. Dean's eyes widened and his mouth began to water. The waiter then brought Sam a tiny dish of what seemed to be lettuce. Except the lettuce was brownish, and the tomatoes resembled raisins.
"Thank you, Ma;am." Sam remarked as the Waitress walked away.
Sam remarked as the Waitress walked away. Sam slipped the plate to the side when she was out of sight.
"Why do you have to be so damn picky?" Dean asked while eating his cheeseburger. "All you have to do is eat the salad. You haven't eaten anything since yesterday." Sam returned his gaze to the salad. Once again, his stomach lurched. "As much as I would love to get food poisoning, I'll have to pass."
Dean shrugged his shoulders and continued to chow down on his burger.
Meanwhile, the waitress and the mysterious man at the counter were chatting when the local news station began to play.
"Good evening, this is Meteorologist George Remmings," it said at the start. "Right now, we're monitoring a rather powerful storm to the northwest. We've been getting reports of severe gusts and heavy rain. Travel is not recommended at this time."
Sam shifted his gaze from the TV to his brother.
"Hey, you need to get done soon so we can beat the storm," Sam responded hastily.
"What's the big deal?" Asked Dean,". We've traveled through thunderstorms before, Sam." Dean replied ponderously as he placed a fry into his mouth.
"Yes, but this is supposed to –" Sam started to argue before being cut off…again. Which was really starting to annoy the crap out of him.
"Sam, just stop. We can leave as soon as we get the check and make our way to the case." Dean fought back.
Suddenly, a new voice joined the conversation between the brothers.
"I believe your buddy here is right; the weather around here can be rather unpredictable." It was the man seated at the counter with the waitress. "I'm sorry to just but into your conversation, but I overheard and just wanted to come let you know there's a motel right down the road from here. It isn't the best, but it will keep you safe for at least one night."
Dean raised his head, a protective expression on his face. "Look, thanks for your concern, but we'll be alright."
"I truly insist, I don't know if you're from around here –" The Man started to explain.
"I really mean it, I'm not sure whether you're from around here -" The Man began to explain.
"Look, you should mind your own business. "Who exactly are you?" Dean inquired, rage flashing over his face at the prospect of being told what to do.
"Oh, I'm sorry," the man chuckled, "my name is Claud. "I'm the local sheriff in town."
"Great, exactly what we need," Dean murmured to himself.
Sam gave Dean a stern look and turned to face the Sheriff. "Thank you for the offer, Sir, but as my brother indicated, we are fine driving in the storm. We have somewhere we need to be."
The sheriff raised an eyebrow at the youngest Winchester. "And can't that somewhere wait another night? I'll even pay for the room myself. Just doing my job and keeping the innocent safe," The sheriff smiled.
A huge boom erupted from outside, and the lights began to flicker. Rain began to fall, and lightning illuminated the sky. The wind was so strong that the structure began to shake.
"So, how do you feel about driving in it now?" The Sheriff enquired.
Dean cursed under his breath when he inquired about the name of the motel.
Hey guys! I know it's starting off slow, but It will start to pick up! Thank you so much!