Just a Car - Supernatural fic

[jebbypal]

cassiee heard my cries about not getting the frog to do anything and decided to throw me a bunny. Sadly, she forgot it's two specific bunnies I'm trying to get my frog to play with. Instead, she insisted on feeding the Dean-side of the muse. Which really doesn't need any help. Dean never does shut up when he really has something to say. It's kind of like trying to make him not hit on a pretty girl when he has a story he wants to tell. Anyway, this is the result. All metallicar injuries are at cassie's request and not my own idea.

Title: Just a Car
author: jebbypal
rating: Teen for language
summary: The metallicar suffers a few injuries. The tow truck operator thinks it's owners are short a few screws.
534 words. Unbeta-ed.


They were arguing when Ray drove up. Apparently they were the source of the sobbing and screaming he’d been hearing since he turned onto Old Hickman Road. Ray ignored them and got out to do his job.

“God damn it, Sammy!” yelled the darker-haired man wearing a leather coat. Ray thought it was kind of hot for a coat, but well, he had to admit it went well with the car.

“Hey, we aren’t the appetizer for the ogre. I call it a win,” Sammy replied in a bored voice. Sounded like it wasn’t the first time he’d said it.

Wait a second, ogre? Ray paused and shot the two a look. They were too involved in their fight to notice. He shook his head. Probably misheard. Or they hallucinated it. Looked like the type that might be drinking or smoking something less than legal. Or they could have been knocked on the head. The grill on the front end was smashed pretty badly by the boulder.

“It’s never a win when we have to call a tow truck. You’re never driving again.”

“Oh, come on. It’s a car, Dean. What are a few dents and scratches compared with stopping evil?”

Ray raised his eyebrows. Evil? Must have been some good weed or a keg that had gone bad. These two didn’t look like they could stop more than a sorority girl.

“You didn’t just say that. Tell me he didn’t just say that?” Dean asked.

Ray just shrugged and got down on the ground to hook the chains to the undercarriage.

“That is a 1967 Impala in almost mint condition. I put the last coat of paint on it myself, and it was perfect until you took out that damn mailbox. I told you to watch out for the mailbox.”

“I was a little too busy trying to dodge that thing’s feet!” Sam yelled as he pointed toward another boulder a few yards behind the car.

Ray rubbed his face. Obviously he should have had another cup of coffee before he took this call. That or he was still dreaming.

“Is there any damage to the frame? I swear I heard something when he jumped over that last hill,” Dean said, worried.

“Ya lost your oil pan, but no frame damage. Gonna take a few days to bang out the grill, but should be able to get it back good as new,” Ray told him. “You guys get in the cab and we’ll get her back to town and get started.”

Dean shot a look at the other guy, Sammy, and shook his head. “If it’s alright with you, I’ll ride in the car.”

Ray shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Unbelievable. Un-freaking believable,” Sammy said as he climbed into the passenger side of the tow truck.

“Don’t worry, girl, we’ll get you all fixed up in no time. And I’ll never let Mr. Lead Foot and Blind drive you again,” Dean said as he ran his hands over the white gouges before getting in the car.

Ray thought for a second about asking Sammy exactly how the wreck had happened, but then he decided against it. Something told him he’d never believe the story anyway.