Dead End Signs and Wasted Land

For some reason I was the one elected to stay out in the Impala and keep my eyes peeled for anyone, such as patrol cars or anyone that could catch us and throw us in the slammer. The idea was bad to begin with; stealing a stupid, creepy painting in a historic museum, but I didn’t both to argue with the Winchesters. In the end they would win, even though I knew if something went wrong I would win by a long shot. The fact that the black beauty was sitting in the middle of an empty parking lot in broad daylight- oh yeah, that wasn’t suspicious at all.

“I’d rather us get caught stealing a painting than have one of them catch me in bed with the other,” I muttered to myself, as I was sitting on the edge of the black leather in the back seat. As petty as that sounded, it was the truth. This whole ‘going behind the others back’ ordeal was really getting the best of me. “Why does it have to be so hard to avoid sexual tension- or alcohol? None of this would have been a problem if it wasn’t for their irresistible sex appeal.”

Suddenly, the burst of a shrilling burglary alarm went off. I gasped, holding a hand up to my chest as my heart was beating rapidly through my black shirt. I should have been expecting it, but for some reason it made me jump out of my skin. No more than thirty seconds after the alarm began to penetrate, a familiar ringtone started to blow up on my phone. That could leave one of two people.

“Yeah,” I said in a dull tone, making sure that I didn’t sound too surprised that something would go wrong.

“Bring the car and your ass over to the back side of the building.” Dean’s husky voice demanded. I could hear a pair of hasty shuffling on the other line. Well, guess who deserves a cookie for being right?

I crawled over the front seats, hopping into the driver’s side before roaring the engine back to life. As the thought of actually being able to drive Dean’s precious baby, I realized that since I was sixteen when my family passed I never really had the opportunity to even drive a car in my life. Growing up, I was never in to cars until now so the fact that I was going to be driving for like the first time in my life at twenty-one, I was going either A: make a fool of myself and wreck the Impala; or B: go through the same motions as on TV. Maybe it was a bad idea, but it was better than nothing.

An arrogant grin formed on my face as I set the Impala in gear.

“I owe you the biggest ‘I told you so’ ever.” I declared confidently, making a burn-out in the parking lot as I peeled viciously down a back street towards the museum. Let’s just say that it was actually quite exhilarating.

“If you wreck my baby, I’m so going to-” Click. I felt the urge to ignore him, so I disconnected the line and dropped the phone back on my lap. It wasn’t hard to figure out what he was going to say. He didn’t want anyone to drive his car because he always had a conscious telling him that everyone was a bad driver. It obviously didn’t strike him right away that I had never driven in my life. It would definitely get his motor going when it hits him.

Racing down the back street, I quickly took a sharp turn down the murky alley out behind the museum where two male figures came into view. When I finally realized that they were coming into view awful fast, I slammed on the brakes a little more than I had anticipated as my entire body jerked forward as the fiery Impala came to a sudden halt. I could feel the tension rising inside Dean as his eyes were filled with fear for his car when he entered through the passenger door. There was a part me that felt bad that both he and Sam would have to put up with my crazy driving skills, but there was no time to waste worrying about that. When I acknowledged Sam settling down with Dean’s leather jacket draped over our painting, Dean’s eyes were pelting me with loathe.

“If you kill us, I am going to haunt the grave your ass will be laying in.” Dean stated sharply.

“Well then, you better strap yourselves in.” I replied, returning my eyes to the narrow pathway in front of me.

“Um, we never-” Sam started say but was interrupted by me forcing the exhilarator to the ground, making everyone jolt back in their seats. Again, I wasn’t expecting for the car to take off like that I loved the rush. It was like playing Grand Theft Auto, except we didn’t steal the car- we stole a painting; a goddamn painting.

“Jesus Christ!” Dean shouted in astonishment, as I glimpsed up at the rearview mirror in case any patrol cars were on our tail. All I saw was Sam’s bewildered face, clutching onto the side of the painting. For some reason, I just laughed to myself. “You think this is funny?” Dean added sternly. “You act like you have never driven in your life.” I peered out from the corner of my eyes wearily, as the grin on my face faded instantly. “Son of a bitch!”

There was no point in trying to say anything to calm him down. His blood pressure was probably sky rocketing and most likely at risk for a heart attack. Note to self; never ever drive again, especially when you’re driving off the rails on a crazy train.

“I’m letting a crazy bitch drive my baby; I think I’m going throw up.” Dean muttered to himself, who I wouldn’t doubt was rolling his eyes up in his head about ready to bury his face in his hands. I was too focused on the odometer reading nearly seventy miles per hour once I sharply cornered out from the dark alley. There was a semi-truck headed straight for us on my left-hand side. The only thing I could do was hope to God or whoever that we would get out alive.

I closed my eyes veered out around the truck, only to hear the driver blare his horn to warn me on my reckless driving. You think I wasn’t aware of that already? I reopened my eyes gradually, leery on what to expect before me. A sigh of relief escaped from my lips when nothing but open road came into view.

“Shut your pie hole!” I shot back hastily. “It’s not my fault I never got the practice driving. I was only sixteen when my family died and you were too self-centered to let me drive this thing.”

“I wasn’t going to let some sixteen year old drive my car! Now that this is all starting to make sense now, I obviously can’t trust a twenty-one year old to drive it either.”

I gritted my teeth frustratingly. If it wasn’t for the fact that we were on the run and there was a car flashing behind us, I would have slammed on the brakes and hand the reins back to him. He was just so goddamn stubborn and possessive over the Impala, he might as well go make-out with the tail pipe.

Abruptly, my irritation vanished. A car with flashing lights- oh fuck.

“We are so screwed,” Sam mumbled as well all glanced back at the police cruiser on our bumper. Putting the pedal to the metal wasn’t going to solve our problem. We stole a painting; I’m driving without a license; we are wanted by the FBI also for various grave discretions and other insane things. We were going to rot in prison.

As I decreased my speed and pulled off onto the side of the road, I banged my fist against the steering wheel. My stress level was so high, I literally just wanted to breakdown into tears. Is this really what my parents would have wanted me to become- a hunter just like the two men that saved me, breaking the law to save people from bizarre creatures? Really, I don’t think any parent would want their child to do something so extreme.

“I’ll take care of this one,” Dean stand firmly, as I watched the police officer exit his car and casually approaching the window.

Winding down the window, the officer bent over to window height asking for license and registration, just like in all the movies. Of course if I take driving skills off of TV, there are always federal agents of some kind around. What was I thinking? Exactly nothing…

“Is there a problem officer?” Dean asked obliviously, leaning down so the man could get a glimpse of him speaking while handing him the paper work. He had a tall, scrawny figure and lacking a good sun tan, otherwise he wasn’t too bad looking.

“Does this young lady have a legal license to be driving?” he questioned, glancing down at the registration papers before giving us a stern look. I had to agree with Sam by that point; we were doomed leaving it all to Dean to try and get us out of the rut. I gulped silently.

“We were just coming back from one wild party.” Dean declared as a conceited smirk spread across his face. “My brother and I here had a tad bit too much to drink, so my girlfriend her was our best option.” Girlfriend… huh? I turned my head swiftly, giving him a puzzled expression. All he responded with was a quick shrug of his shoulders.

“I’m going to need you to step out of the car, miss.” The officer affirmed, noticing that when I glanced back at him he was staring at the painting in the back seat. Lovely.

“Look sir,” I spoke up, holding my hands out in a few inches in front of me as I attempted to explain the information. “Our place is a few more miles down the road- can’t you let me get these boys home and just leave us with a warning?”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” That’s was all he said, giving me a blank stare, that almost left me with an uncanny feeling. I just let out a sigh, opening the door when I felt a hand pull back on my arm. Gazing over my shoulder, I acknowledge Sam providing me with a weary but serious appearance.

“He’s not a cop,” Sam whispered, veering his eyes from the tall man outside the car back to me. “He’s a vampire.”

Dean looked at him skeptically.

“And you know this how, Mr. Genius?” he asked, as Sam’s face become more serious and alert.

“Didn’t you see the teeth when he talked? He’s no human.”

Well, that’s nice to know- how were we getting out of this one?