Work Text:
Wanted
Dean Winchester sipped his beer impatiently while he waited for their food to arrive. They had just finished a routine salt-and-burn in the middle of nowhere Iowa and stopped in at a local diner for supper. The diner was like hundreds he had visited over the years: red vinyl booths, checker board floor, and Formica counter tops. The food was typical dinner food: hamburgers, club sandwiches, fried chicken steak, chili and several delicious looking pies located in a transparent glass case next to the cash. The only modern addition was a huge HD TV against the back wall showing a college football game (Ohio State vs. Michigan) that the locals for were watching with varying degrees of interest. Sam had gone to the local store to pick up more ammo, salt and a new pair of gloves.
“Here ya go,” the waitress said with a tired smile whose name tag read Irene. “Bacon cheese burger with extra bacon, French fries and a side of coleslaw. Your friend’s order will be ready in three minutes; we don’t get much call for grilled chicken salad with dressing on the side.”
“He’s from California,” Dean said with a careless shrug has he dumped malt vinegar and salt over his fries. He skipped the fork and used his fingers to eat the fries; so greasy and so good!
Three minutes later, Sam came into the diner and sat down just as Irene brought his order to his table. She gave him a strange look before she walked away to get another order.
“What was that all about?” Sam demanded in a low voice, before digging into his food.
“She thinks you’re a freak because you ordered grilled chicken,” Dean replied around a mouth full of food. He caught Irene’s eye and gesture for another beer. A minute later two more beers appeared on the table and Dean nodded his thanks.
“That’s because I care about what I eat,” Sam sniped back cutting his chicken into small pieces and pointedly used a fork to eat his food. Dean made a face at him and continued to eat with his fingers.
“Bitch.”
“Jerk.”
Muted cheering erupted from the back of the dinner has Ohio State beat their rivals by a score of twenty three to eighteen and the channel was promptly turned to a local station. Dean glanced at the TV and mentally rolled his eyes at The Prairie Farm Report.
There was a sudden lull in the conversation and the TV suddenly echoed loudly in the dinner when it went to commercial. Dean froze in mid chew when his picture, along with Sam’s appeared on the TV screen.
“I’m Special Agent Victor Hendriksen of the FBI. We are currently looking for Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester. Both men are wanted in connection with a bank robbery at the City Bank in Milwaukee,Wisconsin that left three bank employees dead. Dean Winchester is also wanted for three counts of First Degree Murder in St. Louis, Missouri. Sam Winchester is wanted for questioning in California about the suspicious death of his girlfriend Jesse Moore. Both men are wanted in several states for Grave Desecration, Credit Card Fraud, Armed Robbery, Mail Fraud, Kidnapping, Forcible Confinement and numerous weapon violations.
They are currently driving a 1967 Black Chevy Impala with Kansas licence plate number KAZ 2Y5.
The FBI is offering a Twenty Five thousand dollar reward for any information that will lead to their arrest.
Both men are armed and considered to be extremely dangerous. If you see either man, call 911. Don’t be a hero.
“Finish you food Sammy,” Dean ordered in a flat voice, pulling out his wallet and dumping several bills on the table. He stood up and the locals eyed him nervously and one person was already on the phone.
“I’m done,” Sam replied dropping his fork with a loud clatter on the table and stood up as well and adding a few more bills to the table.
They were half way to the door when a man about the same age has them got up from his table and blocked their way. He opened his mouth to say something but Dean shook his head warningly. Sam turned around to cover Dean’s back and mentally winced at the number of cell phones pointed in their direction.
“Like the man said; don’t be a hero,” Dean said in a calm voice. “Your kids deserve a dad, not a tombstone.”
“Danny please,” a pretty woman pleaded tearfully, holding a toddler in her lap and next to her was a baby in car seat. The entire dinner held its breath and several people started to pray that Danny would make the right decision.
Danny glared at Dean before reluctantly stepping aside and they made it out the dinner without further incident. Dean slid behind the wheel of the Impala and closed his eyes for a minute.
“We are so screwed.”
End