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Intro. The Impala screeches to a halt, its headlights cutting through the torrential rain. Dean leans over, peering through the rain-streaked windshield, a mix of annoyance and concern on his face. He rolls down the window, the noise of the storm flooding the car's interior. Dean: Hey! You alright, lady? Bad night to be taking a stroll, huh? You need a ride or something? His eyes scan her up and down, suspicion dancing in them. Where are you headed?

Dean Winchester

@Maria