Thunder roared over head as lightning lit up the sky and rain pounded down onto the ground. A skinny figure with ran through the storm and found itself in the parking lot of a cheap motel. The figure started to go from car to car and testing their doors, hoping to find some shelter from the storm. Another flash of lightning illuminated the parking lot and the figure.

The girl couldn't have been any older than 17, but she had the weary countenance of someone who had experienced more than her age belied. Her dark, matted hair had been roughly cut, more than likely by her own hand, and she wore a pair of dirty jeans, a faded grey shirt and tennis shoes that were nearing the end of their time.

"Come on…" She whispered to the wind as another car proved totally locked. The rain battered her and ran down her face as she ran to the next car and looked around quickly to make sure no one was around before she tried the door. It also proved locked. Tears of frustration soon joined the rain running down her face. These lucky bastards with roofs over their heads and money in their pockets… She ran under the awning circling the building, hoping for at least a brief reprieve.

The wind blew up suddenly and the rain swept under the awning proving her attempt meaningless. She would have screamed in frustration had she not wanted to alert the people staying in the room she was standing next to. She turned her eyes back to the parking lot and saw what may have been her savior; an old black Impala, the kind that wouldn't have automatic locks. Maybe…

She quickly ran out to it and tried the driver's side. Locked. She went to the backseat door and, yes! It opened! She climbed inside and lied down exhausted. The rain battered the hood of the old car as she rolled onto her side pressing her face to the back seat and breathing in a mixed smell of fast food, leather and a couple other scents that should have startled her; gunpowder and the distinct iron scent of blood. She didn't care at this point though, she would leave the car when the storm stopped or the sun rose. The owner would never know she was here.

The rain continued to pour and she slowly started to doze off, the car having a comforting atmosphere somehow; like it was a home… A smile crossed her face at the thought before she finally fell asleep.

"Hey, wake up!" A male voice echoed through the girl's mind and she was nudged on the shoulder. Her blue eyes blinked open and met those of a man in his late twenties or early thirties. She woke up more when she realized she'd fallen asleep instead of leaving as soon as the sun came up. The man standing before her had to be the owner of the Impala, and he didn't look to happy to have found a squatter in his car.

"Mind explaining why you were asleep in my car?" He asked brusquely.

"I'm sorry, I was just-"

"Dean? What's going on?" A different male voice interrupted her apology and the girl turned to see a taller, but younger, man walk up to the car. He looked down at her and his expression turned concerned. "Hey, are you alright?"

The girl looked between the two men and her apology tumbled out. "I'm sorry, I was just looking for shelter from the storm last night and your car was unlocked. I'll go now."

She climbed out sliding past the one called Dean and hurried away, ignoring their stares.

Sam watched the girl leave while Dean checked out the Impala. "Dammit," he grumbled, "The backseat is soaked."

"She was trying to get out of a storm, Dean. She was probably drenched." Sam replied looking down at his brother.

"Well she could have gone to one of the other cars. The Impala's ours." Dean said as he slammed the back door shut. "I mean, what if she'd seen one of our guns and reported us?"

"I don't think she would have cared. Shelter is shelter no matter whom or what gives it. And besides you're the one who didn't lock it." The taller replied as he circled around to the passenger side and got in.

"Dude, you did not just say 'whom'. And shut up."Dean retorted as he got in the driver's side and started it up, Kansas's "Dust in the Wind" playing from the speakers. He pulled out of the lot and drove into town.

They stopped to get breakfast and sat outside to eat, Dean being paranoid now about watching the Impala to make sure no one else got into it. Sam looked at the Impala too, but not to watch it but to think. The car was really the closest thing he'd ever had to a real home. Sure they'd stopped and lived in towns before he'd left but never for very long. The old car was permanent, always there.

"You know…it's kind of funny that she would choose the Impala." Sam said thoughtfully.

"Why?" Dean asked after glaring at a businessman who got too close to the car.

"Because it's our home, really. Our shelter. Hell it's the only home I've really known." Sam replied. Dean nodded suddenly solemn. He knew where Sam was coming from. Even though he'd lived in Kansas for four years that house wasn't his home. Maybe it had been once but now…

"Yeah, I know what you mean Sam."

Sam finished his coffee and tossed his trash in the trashcan before standing. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah let's get out of here." Dean replied throwing away his own trash and getting in the car. Sam was about to join him when he saw a familiar figure sitting in the alley next to the shop looking through the trashcans.

"Hang on." Sam said before he went back into the shop, ignoring Dean's inquiries. He bought a couple of the shop's muffins and went out to the alley. "Hey!"

The girl jumped and was about to run but was surprised when she saw the taller of the two Impala owners. What did he want? Was he angry?

Sam walked over to the girl, not surprised that she looked about to run. "I'm not going to hurt you, promise." He held out the sack to the girl. "Here, fresh muffins are probably better than whatever you could've found in there."

She looked at the bag and the man surprised and hesitantly took the bag. Something about him made her know he was trustworthy. "Thank you…" She said quietly.

"I'm Sam and the other guy's my brother, Dean. Sorry if he was gruff with you. He's protective of our car." Sam said a friendly smile on his face.

"It's fine, there've been worse." The girl replied then she looked down at the bag and asked, "Why did you give me this anyway?"

Sam's smile shifted a bit as he answered. "Let's just say…I don't blame you for squatting in our car, and I'm not angry. Plus you look like you needed something better than leftovers to eat."

She was somewhat confused by his answer but didn't press it. "Well…thanks again, Sam." She turned and started to walk away when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"May I at least know your name?" Sam asked politely. He wasn't surprised that she was.

"Adrianne… My name's Adrianne." She said after a pause.

"Adrianne, good luck. I hope things work out for you." Sam said moving his hand off of her shoulder and smiling.

Adrianne couldn't help but return the smile. "I hope so too." She nodded to him before turning and walking away, sending him a wave goodbye. Sam returned the wave and headed back to the Impala.

"You are so soft Sammy." Dean said as his brother got back in the car.

"Shut up Dean." He retorted buckling in. The song had changed by now and the opening chords for "Carry on Wayward Son" started playing as they drove out of town.