Supernatural: Season Two

Born Under a Bad Sign (2)

Born Under a Bad Sign (2)

Kylie's POV

When we walked out of the motel room, it was sprinkling drips of rain wetting my hair. I shivered against the cold, pulling my jacket up against me as we trudged out of the motel. Dean and Sam were in front of me, Sam constantly looking over his shoulder to study me.

"Recognize anything Sammy?" I questioned feeling uncomfortable under his constant gaze,

He gave a shrug. "Not really." We were walking around the motel when Sam paused. "Wait."

"What?" Dean asked as we came to a halt.

"I think I was here." Sam hummed, a look of confusion on his face.

"You remember?" Dean asked, hopeful.

"Not really," Sam admitted with a shake of his head, "it just . . . feels familiar, you know?"

Dean glanced at me before shrugging and going to the nearest garage, Sam was watching carefully before pointing at the next one.

"Try that one. Yeah." Sam nodded.

Dean went to the garage, kneeling down to tug on a padlock that kept the garage locked. "Okay." He let out, not knowing how he was going to get it opened.

"Wait." Sam called before his brother could walk away. He gave us a frown and pulled out a key giving me a significant look.

I cursed mentally in my head, preparing myself for what was to come.

Dean gave me a concerned look before taking the key from his brother and unlocking the padlock. He pulled the door open only to reveal a filthy, beat-up VW Beetle.

"Oh please tell me you didn't steal this." Dean let out with disgust, clearly disappointed in his brother's choices.

I watched as Sam fidgeted uncomfortably next to me before going to the rundown car. He opened the driver's side door while Dean and I went to the passenger side.

We looked around, but the smell of cigarettes and the dirt alone was enough to make me flinch. There was no way Sam was driving this around.

Sam's eyes widened as he looked at the steering wheel, he quickly ran his finger over a liquid substance before showing us.

"More blood."

I looked around the backseat of the car finding a blood-stained knife that was stuck to the floor.

"Sam." I point. "Back seat."

Dean nudged me out of the way to get the full view of his brother picking up the knife that was covered in blood.

"You think I used this one someone?" Sam asked, his face full of sorrow.

Dean paused and shook his head. "I'm not thinking anything."

But I was.

I would never hurt Sam, never even think about putting him in danger, but this didn't feel like my Sam. He would have more control over himself, and wouldn't be so sloppy at doing his job.

I watched as 'Sam' rubbed the knife handle off with the inside of his jacket, cleaning it from his prints.

Dean reached in front of me picking up a blue package that I couldn't make out.

"Okay now this is disturbing." He holds up a square pack of cigarettes. "Come on, man, this couldn't have been you. Had to have been someone else, somebody who, uh," He paused to sniff the pack, almost gagging at the smell. "smoke menthols."