There were no other cars on the road as the Impala sped down the street, the Winchester's surroundings turning into a blur as they drove.
"Dude, how did you get the Impala into London?" Sam asked, "I thought they only drove on the left side?" Dean nodded, keeping his eyes on the road.
"Yeah, they do," he answered, "but it's nor right, the way they drive- accident waiting to happen, you know?" Sam rolled his eyes- of course Dean objected to the way they drove their cars in Great Britain, being an American whose drove a car on the right all his life.
"Whatever," he said, staring down at the book in his lap. Peeking out of the leaner bound worn covers were small post-it notes in almost every color imaginable, keeping tabs on important pieces of information. The notebook had been their father's, depicting every kind of monster imaginable, your worst nightmares come to life. Sam shivered as he thought about it- what was in Britain that could be so terrifying? Clearing his throat, he continued, "so how did you get the car over here?"
"Cas flew it over, of course," Dean said, a smug grin on his face. Cas was always willing to do anything for Dean- pulling him out of perdition, rescuing him from Naomi, that kind of stuff. But flying a car all the way to England? Sam thought, that must have been tiring.
"Wait a second-" Same said, letting his eyes trail p to the sky, which was a dark blue, almost black- the weather station had said it might rain that night after all.
"Wait what?" Dean asked, squinting through the windshield.
"What if cad was seen?" Sam asked, keeping his eyes on the sky above. The stars had began to come out, twinkling like diamonds against a velvet background. Dean rolled his eyes- Sam was always bugging him about stuff like 'being seen'
"It's fine," he said, no one saw!" There was a pitter-pattering on the roof, small splashes decorating the windshield, "Shit, now it's raining!"Sam ignored him, still staring at the sky. As the deep blue faded to black, there was one star, he noticed, seeming to streak across the sky…
"Dean, is that a shooting star?" he asked, leaning over to point at it. Dean waved his hand away, not bothering to look. The rain was starting to get louder now.
"Yeah, yeah, waterer," he said, trying his best to navigate through the downpour, "make a wish or whatever if you want." Annoyed, Sam leaned back in his chair, still watching the star as it seemed to…. get closer? Soon there was a slight ring in his ears, faint, but….
"Is that the car engine?' he asked. Dean shook his head.
"No, we got the engine fixed last time the Trickster turned you into my baby, remember?" Sam nodded, not amused. The whine seemed to grow louder with each passing second, a tad louder than the rain hitting the roof, sounding almost like….
"Screaming…." Sam muttered, hearing it get louder and louder- "Dean, it sounds like a woman is sceaming!" Dean scoffed at his brother.
"Are you serious? There's no one else on the road!"
"Not on the road- from the sky!" Sam said.
"Not possible!" Dean shouted, the rain getting almost thunderous, "I'm pretty sure we would kn-"
There was a loud bang, a blurred figure smashing down against the roof, leaving a dent.
"What was that?" Dean asked, nearly shouting, his eyes going wide as there was another bang- the figure had rolled down the windshield to hit the hood of the car, then being left to crash into the ditch as the car sped through the night. He stole a quick glance through his rearview mirror- there was indeed someone lying in the mud, looking visibly hurt by the impact.
"Dude…." he said, veering the car around. Sam watched as his brother's face turned white.
"Did we just hit someone?!" Sam shouted full of panic. Slowly Dean nodded, undoing his seatbelt and pushing open the door, his boots slapping the slick blacktop. Exiting out the passenger side, Sam rushed to the person, who was lying flat on their back.
"Damn it, Dean!" Sam cried as he rolled the person over- a girl, her blond hair in a messy disarray around her head. Eyes closed, blood trickled from a wound on her head- when she hit the car, Sam thought, grabbing her small wrists to check for a pulse. Dean looked on, silent as his brother then pressed two fingers to her neck.
"Sammy…." Dean said, "what if she's dead…..?"
"She isn't dead, Dean," Sam answered.
"Sammy…. I might have killed a civilian!" Dean shouted, "out of all the fucking- GOD DAMN IT!"
"Dean! She isn't dead!" Sam repeated. Dean blinked- did his brother just say what he think he said?
"What?" he let out an uncertain laugh, a grin pulling at the corners of his lips.
"She's breathing, but she's out cold," Sam explained, "and her skin feels like ice." HE rubbed his hands together, breathing on them for warmth.
"Well no duh she's cold we're in the middle of a rainstorm and she doesn't have anything on but a sweatshirt!" Dean scolded, full of relief, "Come on, let's get her back to the car, okay?" Sam nodded, grunting as he lifted her, holding her close to his chest.
"We'll have to see how bad the gash is on her head when we get there, okay?" Sam said as he slid her not the backseat, rearranging her so she was lying into the passenger seat, he slammed the door, Dean slamming not eh gas pedal. The rain slicked tires screeched as they rolled on the blacktop, Dean veering left and right before regaining control.
"Dude, be careful!" Sam warned, "remember we have an injured person n the backseat!" Dean nodded, driving a few feet forward before making a sharp left. There was a muffled thump as the girl's unconscious body fell from the leather seats to the dirty floor of the car.
"Sorry about that, sweetheart!" Dean apologized, but received no answer- it was unlikely that she would be able to respond anyway, being out cold and he could smell the faint stench of blood….. he wrinkled his nose.
"Sammy?"
"Yeah, Dean?"
"I'm gonna need you to clean the backseat while I bring the hot chick inside, okay?"
"Yeah sure- wait, why am i cleaning out eh backseat?" Sam whined.
"Because I'm older and I'm way cooler then you are, so shut your cake-hole," Dean said. Sma rolled his eyes as they pulled into a parking lot for a small motel, a neon orange and green sign buzzing, the large letters flickering.
"Dean, that's not a valid reason," Sam said.
"Well it is for me," Dean said, "so get to work." Turning the ignition, he turned off the car. There was a pop as Dean opened the trunk for him, then grunting as he worked to pick up the girl, carrying her bridal style toward the motel, leaving him with the car. Sam sighed, surprised that Dean was even allowing him to clean the car. Grabbing a rag and some Febreeze, he slammed the trunk and went to the car.
"Jerk!" he muttered under his breath as he inspected the damage. Blood stains were everywhere, leaving an almost crusted river on the leather seats, an ocean of dots on the inside of the door. Rolling up his sleeves, he sprayed, the smell of lavender tickling his nose as he scrubbed at the stains. Being extremely tall, he had to get on his knees, crouching over the floor. The putrid smell made him recoil, but he went at it anyway, reaching under the seat with the rag.
"Come on, Sam," he said a little uneasily, to himself "it isn't as if you haven't seen blood before…." Why was he getting so worked up about blood? He had seen it all the time while killing things, so why did it bother him so much? Probably because this girl… he let his thoughts trail off, and then it hit him:
Neither he nor his brother had bothered to check if this girl was a demon.
Rushing, he withdrew his hands, his fingers brushing a piece of plastic. Hesitantly, he scooped it up in his hands, hitting his head as he rose to his full height. Rubbing his head, he inspected the plastic- a laminated I.D. card, to be exact.
"Rose Tyler…." he read to himself, squinting at the picture. A young girl- most lily nineteen by the looks of it- was smiling back at him, blond hair framing her face. She had brown eyes and plump lips, and she was wearing the same pink hooded sweatshirt in the photo. Tossing the cleaning supplies in the backseat, he slammed the door shut, clutching the card in his fist as he stalk dingo the motel, rain splashing his coat and hair as he went.