𝓛𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓦𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻

•Chapter one•

~Pilot~

_________________________

Dean came out of the gas station with a bunch of junk food in his hands, and he started towards the impala where August and Sam were.

"Hey. You want breakfast?" Dean called out to his brother who was sitting in the passenger seat of the impala, his legs hanging out of the car.

"No, thanks." Sam said, seeing as all Dean had was unhealthy junk.

Dean made a face and shrugged before looking into the back window that was rolled down, at the baby who was looking up at him with big blue eyes.

"What about you, Auggie? You hungry?" He asked her with a smile.

He opened the bag of chips in his arms, and pulled one out, breaking off a very small piece, and feeding it to the baby through the window.

"So how'd you pay for that stuff?" Sam spoke up again. "You and dad still running credit-card scams?" He questioned.

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro-ball career." Dean stated. "Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah, and what names did you write on the application this time?" Sam asked as dean had put the gas nozzle back on the pump, and started around the impala to the drivers side.

"Uh...Bert Aframian and his son, Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal." Dean said, sitting down in the drivers seat, and closing the door back.

"Sounds about right." Sam nodded before looking back down into deans box of cassette tapes. "I swear, man, you got to update your cassette-tape collection." He told Dean.

"Why?" Dean questioned him.

"Well, for one— they're cassette tapes, and two— Black Sabbath, Motörhead, Metallica?" Sam questioned as he picked up each tape he named off before dropping them back into the box. "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock." He said as dean took the Metallica tape from him.

"House rules, Sammy— Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole." Dean stated as he put the tape into the tape slot in the radio. "Ain't that right, Auggie?" He turned in his seat and smiled at the baby.

August smiled and clapped her hands.

Dean chuckled as he dropped the Metallica case back into the box just before Sam spoke again.

"Sammy is a chubby 12-year-old. It's Sam, okay?" Sam told his brother who just turned up the radio.

"Sorry, I can't hear you. The music's too loud." He said.

Sam scoffed lightly as dean put the gear into drive, and pulled away from the gas pump.

~~~

After a while of driving, Sam hung up his phone and put it down in the seat beside him.

"Alright, so there's no one matching dad at the hospital or morgue. So that's something, I guess." He told dean.