WHO: Sam Winchester and OPEN. WHAT: Bad Day At Black Rock L.A. WHEN: Afternoon. WHERE: On the side of a road! RATING: TBD.
It was one of those days. You know the kind. Shoelace won't stay tied? Check. Hair is a mess no matter what is done to it? Check. Neighbor stops you on the way out of the house to gab on about things you don't care about for two hours straight? Check. Bang your head on the roof of the vehicle you're climbing into because you're six foot four and can't fit into anything the right way? Double check. Yet that, every last bit of it, would have been all fine and well in comparison to what Sam Winchester had to deal with now. Raindrops pounding against his windshield, Sam leaned back into his seat, closed his eyes, and drew in a deep breath. One of the tires were out. Something had popped while he was driving and now Sam was very much parked on the side of the road with nothing but the rain to keep him company as he tried to keep himself from exploding from sheer frustration.
There was no rabbit foot this time. The bad luck? It was just on him. It was actually a shame; if he was cursed, he would know it. He'd find a way to reverse it fast and the he'd be done with it. But this, whatever it was, happened to be a very natural thing. Either that or someone upstairs didn't really like him. Actually, Sam was pretty sure that God was furious with him right now. Asshole who went around drinking demon blood, killing off innocents, and screwing his family and friends over.
Yeah. God was pissed.
"Dammit," Sam cursed, gripping the wheel tightly. He reached for the keys, sliding them out of the ignition. Dropping them into the cupholder, Sam ran a hand through his dark hair and glanced out the window. Still raining. Pretty badly, too. He didn't know when it was gonna let up and he certainly didn't want to be sitting alongside the road all day long waiting for it to do as much. That meant that he had to either battle the rain or call someone to pick him up so that he could come back and take care of it later. Sam smiled bitterly. The call wasn't gonna happen. He had vowed to avoid giving his family as much trouble as he could. They didn't need him to bother them right now. Not after everything he had put them through. Shaking his head in annoyance, Sam pushed his way out of the truck. He jumped into the rain with a grimace, moving quickly toward the rear of his truck to drag out the spare.
...except there wasn't a spare. Blinking the cold water out of his eyes, Sam leaned down to rifle through the various items he had tucked away in the back, searching desperately. Nothing. It was gone, something had - son of a bitch. It had been months since there had been a spare tire. Back when he was working as a computer salesman, an older woman had car trouble in the parking lot. Sam had given her the tire and in all the time after, with him being so hooked on what had been going on with the blood and chaos, Sam had forgotten to buy a new one to replace it. So much for that. With the tire change out of the question and his clothing steadily becoming soaked from the exposure to the rain, Sam made a move at getting back into the truck. Fingers finding the metal handle, Sam pulled at it and...nothing happened.
He had locked himself out. Sam patted at his pockets, only to discover that the keys were absent - in the cupholder, as he'd stupidly planted them - and that his phone was missing in action as well. He had dropped that into the spare seat as soon as he realized that avoiding the rain wasn't an option. Now it really wasn't an option, as Sam was now locked outside without his phone. In the freezing rain.