Fic: Werewolf? Really? (PG, gen)
Title: Werewolf? Really?
Author: ifrenchfriez
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean
Word Count: 704
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Supernatural.
Summary: Sam and Dean on a werewolf case.
Notes/Warnings: Prompt table from spn_30snapshots ! First time writing a fic .. bear with me! *cringes*
Sam was bored while waiting for Dean to wake up, so it was only natural that he searched through several potential cases until one eventually caught his eye.
“Hey, werewolf case in Rock Springs, Wyoming,” Sam said, after noticing how Dean stirred, blinked a couple of times, and reluctantly sat up in his bed. Sam was at the cheap motel desk, his laptop whirring softly in front of him. He unscrewed the cap of his half-drained water-bottle in front of him and took a sip, waiting for Dean to respond.
“Werewolves, Sammy?” Dean grumbled in a deep voice that was rough with sleep. Sam couldn’t help but notice how Dean said “werewolves” with disbelief in his tone since they’ve only hunted one other one in their lives. Before Sam could answer, Dean cleared his throat and grumpily said, “And Wyoming? You couldn’t have looked for a case that wasn’t a million freaking miles away?”
It was obvious that Dean didn’t want to drive all the way to Wyoming considering the fact that there had to be at least a 300-mile difference between Minersville, Utah and Rock Springs, Wyoming. They were staying in some cheap motel named the Delano and just finished a case.
“Yeah well, it’s worth checking out,” Sam replied lamely as he put his bottle down. He scrolled down the web page and read out loud, “Aubrey Williams, the wife of Henry Williams, was found dead on 10:51 PM, February 21st, in a deserted alley. Mr. Williams has been interrogated but claims that he was in his office working during the time of ----“
“So the guy says he wasn’t there at the time,” Dean snorted, cutting off Sam’s recitation. “We’ve heard that quite a lot, haven’t we Sammy? Well, I say, next case on the list,” Dean said as he shifted out of his bed, throwing the covers off and walking toward the restroom.
“But get this …”
Of course there was more to the story, Dean thought to himself as he rolled his eyes, sure that Sam could picture him even though his back was to him. Still not fully awake, he stood in front of the toilet and relieved himself. Then, he walked towards the sink and examined himself in the unclean motel mirror. He rubbed his hand over his face and through his cropped hair, acknowledging the fact that still managed to look presentable after only a short amount of sleep. Dean scrambled for his toothbrush and squirted toothpaste on it, waiting for Sam to talk again.
“It says that her chest was ripped apart and her heart was missing when she was found,” Sam continued. Dean frowned to himself with his toothbrush still in his mouth, now paying attention to what Sam was saying.
“The cops haven’t been able to pin it on anyone but they say that she was brutally murdered.”
Dean didn’t even have to turn around to see the sarcastic expression on Sam’s face that matched his tone. Dean picked up one of the blue rinsing cups, filled it up with water, gargled, and spit. He turned a faucet and watched the water silently clean his toothbrush as he thought about how ignorant officials could be sometimes.
“Brutally murdered, right, Sammy,” Dean said as he walked out of the restroom and toward their luggage. “If I had a nickel every time someone said that ..” he chuckled softly.
“Sounds like something we should check out though, right?” Sam inquired, his hazel eyes still scanning the web page as if he didn’t want to miss any important detail.
“Definitely,” Dean murmured. “Well, let’s get going,” he said roughly after a moment of silence. He zipped open his bag and began shoving his clothes in it. A few guns, knives, and pie coupons from a near-by diner later, Dean was done packing.
Sam got up and started to fold his clothes and place them in his bag. Noticing how his brother was neatly organizing his items, Dean shook his head with his trademark smirk and said, “Before Christmas comes, Sammy.”
Sam glared at him, huffed, and continued to pack his belongings.
“Wait for you outside,” Dean said as he walked out of the motel door.
Author: ifrenchfriez
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean
Word Count: 704
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Supernatural.
Summary: Sam and Dean on a werewolf case.
Notes/Warnings: Prompt table from spn_30snapshots ! First time writing a fic .. bear with me! *cringes*
Sam was bored while waiting for Dean to wake up, so it was only natural that he searched through several potential cases until one eventually caught his eye.
“Hey, werewolf case in Rock Springs, Wyoming,” Sam said, after noticing how Dean stirred, blinked a couple of times, and reluctantly sat up in his bed. Sam was at the cheap motel desk, his laptop whirring softly in front of him. He unscrewed the cap of his half-drained water-bottle in front of him and took a sip, waiting for Dean to respond.
“Werewolves, Sammy?” Dean grumbled in a deep voice that was rough with sleep. Sam couldn’t help but notice how Dean said “werewolves” with disbelief in his tone since they’ve only hunted one other one in their lives. Before Sam could answer, Dean cleared his throat and grumpily said, “And Wyoming? You couldn’t have looked for a case that wasn’t a million freaking miles away?”
It was obvious that Dean didn’t want to drive all the way to Wyoming considering the fact that there had to be at least a 300-mile difference between Minersville, Utah and Rock Springs, Wyoming. They were staying in some cheap motel named the Delano and just finished a case.
“Yeah well, it’s worth checking out,” Sam replied lamely as he put his bottle down. He scrolled down the web page and read out loud, “Aubrey Williams, the wife of Henry Williams, was found dead on 10:51 PM, February 21st, in a deserted alley. Mr. Williams has been interrogated but claims that he was in his office working during the time of ----“
“So the guy says he wasn’t there at the time,” Dean snorted, cutting off Sam’s recitation. “We’ve heard that quite a lot, haven’t we Sammy? Well, I say, next case on the list,” Dean said as he shifted out of his bed, throwing the covers off and walking toward the restroom.
“But get this …”
Of course there was more to the story, Dean thought to himself as he rolled his eyes, sure that Sam could picture him even though his back was to him. Still not fully awake, he stood in front of the toilet and relieved himself. Then, he walked towards the sink and examined himself in the unclean motel mirror. He rubbed his hand over his face and through his cropped hair, acknowledging the fact that still managed to look presentable after only a short amount of sleep. Dean scrambled for his toothbrush and squirted toothpaste on it, waiting for Sam to talk again.
“It says that her chest was ripped apart and her heart was missing when she was found,” Sam continued. Dean frowned to himself with his toothbrush still in his mouth, now paying attention to what Sam was saying.
“The cops haven’t been able to pin it on anyone but they say that she was brutally murdered.”
Dean didn’t even have to turn around to see the sarcastic expression on Sam’s face that matched his tone. Dean picked up one of the blue rinsing cups, filled it up with water, gargled, and spit. He turned a faucet and watched the water silently clean his toothbrush as he thought about how ignorant officials could be sometimes.
“Brutally murdered, right, Sammy,” Dean said as he walked out of the restroom and toward their luggage. “If I had a nickel every time someone said that ..” he chuckled softly.
“Sounds like something we should check out though, right?” Sam inquired, his hazel eyes still scanning the web page as if he didn’t want to miss any important detail.
“Definitely,” Dean murmured. “Well, let’s get going,” he said roughly after a moment of silence. He zipped open his bag and began shoving his clothes in it. A few guns, knives, and pie coupons from a near-by diner later, Dean was done packing.
Sam got up and started to fold his clothes and place them in his bag. Noticing how his brother was neatly organizing his items, Dean shook his head with his trademark smirk and said, “Before Christmas comes, Sammy.”
Sam glared at him, huffed, and continued to pack his belongings.
“Wait for you outside,” Dean said as he walked out of the motel door.