Two men, brothers, sat in a black Impala, their mouths open agape in shock. The only noise heard was the humming of the engine and the patter of rain against the exterior of the sleek car. The taller of the two, named Sam, turned to his brother with a dry mouth. "Dean, how did you not see-"
"My car!" Dean shrieked, cutting his brother off.
Sam shot a glare in his direction before sliding out of the car and sprinting across the cold asphalt where a body lay unresponsive. Running a hand through his long, gradually dampening hair, Sam turned to Dean and motioned for him to come out of the car. Grumbling and cursing to himself, he trudged over and looked down at the corpse. His face softened from anger to concern.
"Is she...did I kill her?" Dean muttered.
Sam let out a slow breath before kneeling and pressing two fingers to her neck. He shook his head no before standing back up.
"She's not dead, most likely unconscious. We should take her back to the motel; make sure she's not dangerous. Or if she needs help," Sam knelt back down to pick her up.
Dean nodded and watched his brother carry the body with ease to the backseat while he slid into the driver's seat. Sam joined him, and they continued down the road. An awkward and long silence passed before Dean looked at his brother with a confused expression. "Was it just me, or did it look like she had just run out of the woods?"
Sam gave his brother a sideways glance before nodding. "I brushed some pine needles off of her before setting her down in the backseat. She also had a few scratches on her face that looked like they were from a branch."
Dean 'hmmed' in agreement before adjusting the rearview mirror to look at the still unconscious body lying in his backseat. His mouth twitched into a smirk when he saw that she was using his leather jacket as a blanket. Sam quirked an eyebrow before looking back and observing what Dean saw, a small smile playing on his lips as well.
Twenty minutes passed before they pulled into the motel parking lot. Sam picked up the girl once again and carried her. Dean slumped the bag of weapons onto the chair closest to the door as he walked in. Using his foot to close the door, Sam followed close behind. He let her rest on one of the beds before stepping back and letting out a small gasp. Dean looked up from the bag of their dinner with furrowed brows. "What's up, Sammy?"
"Her arm..." his voice trailed off with worry evident.
Dean stood up and looked at her right arm, which had a long, red marking trailing from her bicep to her wrist. Thinking it was blood, Dean tried to wipe it away. Seeing it did nothing, he lifted her arm and saw the back of it tattooed with markings the older brother didn't recognize. Lines and curves formed into exquisitely exotic symbols. Dean looked up with raised eyebrows. "Do you think she's a god?" He asked.
Sam shook his head. "I'm not sure. I guess we'll have to see when she wakes up."
"Do you know what any of these mean?" Dean buzzed.
Sam nodded and pointed to the one closest to her wrist. "This represents Thor's hammer, aka Mjölnir." He looked at the others and began to point them out. "Yggdrasil, or the Norse Tree of Life. Here's the Web of Wyrd, which is the Viking Matrix of Fate. There's the Triple Horn of Odin and a Runic Compass."
Dean shook his head in shock. "Okay, nerd." Sam shot him a look. "So either she's a Norse Nerd like you, or she's a god."
"A witch?" Sam suggested.
Dean scrunched up his face. "I don't think so. We would've been hexed by now."
Sam nodded before sitting down and opening his computer, muttering something about research. Dean grunted a response before flopping onto the other bed, looking at the stranger's figure. She had long, curly moonstone grey hair that stopped at her mid-back. She wore a white, flowing dress that fell to her knees. Charcoal grey flats covered her petite feet.
Dean smiled to himself. "She looks like an angel."