Sam Winchester sat shotgun, head against the rest, staring impassively out the passenger window. The Impala raced past forest terrain that seemed to have no end. Tall trees, short trees, dead trees. Trees with big leaves, trees with gnarled branches. Sam was sick of trees. He watched the sinking sun dance between them, flickering golden rays across his face like they were speaking Morse code. Maybe if he was lucky, the rays would direct him to the nearest motel. Yeah, right.
Sam turned to look at his older brother. The elder Winchester's firm grip on the steering wheel had turned his knuckles white. Brow furrowed, lips pursed; Dean was not happy. Serves you right, Sam mused. I told you we should have stopped for directions. At that moment Dean's eyes met Sam's with a glare.
"Shut up, bitch!" He barked.
Sam lifted his hands, palms out, and shook his head. "Dude, I didn't say anything."
"Why are you smirking?"
"What, I can't smile now?"
"You weren't smiling, Sam. You were smirking. Smart ass."
Sam sighed.
"Don't sigh either. You sound like a chick who just got dumped before prom."
Sam rolled his eyes, took a deep breath, and mentally recited the alphabet in reverse. For a moment all he could hear was the Rolling Stones. Yeah, Sam thought cynically. You guys aren't the only ones who can't get some satisfaction. Was getting out of that car really too much to ask?
"Son of a bitch!" Dean shouted, veering the car to the side of the road and slamming into park. Sam looked at his brother, nonplussed, waiting for an explanation. Dean breathed in and out heavily through his nose. Then he turned to Sam, and in a voice somewhere between a growl and a sigh he said, "Well, I think we're lost Sammy."
Sam's eyes narrowed. Yeah, Dean. Ya think?
"Baby's just about running on empty."
Well great. Sam resisted the urge to sock his brother in the face.
Dean scratched the back of his head and said "We probably should have asked for directions at that last rest stop. Why didn't you do that?"
Sam gritted his teeth. "You said you knew where we were gong."
"And you believed me? Geez Sam. I'd have thought by now you'd have learned I have no sense of direction." Dean chuckled.
Sam chortled back, then reached for his brother's throat.
Then there came a rap at Sam's window. Both brothers whirled around to locate the source. A tall, slender man with a thin, pointed nose was standing outside the car. Dressed in a smart, black suit and tie, he leaned on a polished, oak cane. He gestured to the window.
"Please don't be a cop." Dean mumbled.
"Yeah, Dean. He really looks like law enforcement."
"Undercover?" Dean shrugged his shoulders.
Sam groaned and rolled the window down. "Uh, can we help you?"
The man lowered his head. He had a sly grin and a glint in his eyes that suggested he harvested many secrets. This was a man of power not to be fooled with.
"Actually boys, I was hoping I might be of help to you." He spoke with a european accent. His words were slow and deliberate. "You seem lost." He added knowingly.
"Yeah, well my brother here thinks he's above navigational help."
Dean shot Sam a dirty expression. "Listen, if you could just point us in the direction of the nearest town, that would be great."
The stranger cocked his head. "The nearest town? Why, that would be this one of course." The brothers looked at each other. "Why, did you not notice? You've just entered Storybrooke. Welcome!"
To Be Continued...
A/N: If you've read/reviewed my prologue, I thank you and hope you enjoyed it! This was a short chapter. As I get into the heart of the story, they will more than likely get progressively longer. But not too long. Even as a reader I prefer shorter chapters :)