;; Debt Repaid -- Magicaedestruit
Dean never knew much about having a friend, to be honest. Sure, he met and hung out with people when he moved from high school to high school (it helped that he was considered 'cool'), but he never really considered them friest. Family was more his thing. Friends? Not really. He had those hunters that he would call up every once in a while to ask for a favor, but that was as close to having friends as he got.
Then--it must have been a little over eleven years ago now--while his father was working a hunt in New York, that was when he ran into someone he never thought he could consider a friend. Neal Cassidy, a thief and a con-man of sorts, Dean could relate and that's truly what helped him connect to the other. See, Dean needed some sense he could trust a person before letting them get close. But after Neal helped him out of a tight spot, they kept contact as much as they could.
Soon their communication faded off and the Winchester became immersed in his line of work. He lost any friends he might have had, but that wasn't the case today.
Sam had been complainin about how much they'd driven today and Dean was sick of it. "Okay, fine! You said there's a town near here, right? Storybrooke, or whatever? One night," he said with irritation. He continued to drive, eyes glued on the road in front of him. It wasn't until he saw that wooden 'welcome' sign that he felt at least a bit of relief. He could use a good meal and some sleep, so, hopefully, this town would do them some good. After driving into town, Dean spotted a diner--Granny's Bed and Breakfast. Perfect. "Come on. Let's get somethin' to eat and then a room." The black Impala was parked near the diner when the Winchester climbed out of the car, door opening with a creak. He shut it and glanced around the town. Seemed pretty small. Not a problem.
He soon strolled straight into the diner where people turned to give Dean and his brother some strange looks, as if they didn't get many visitors here. "Okay, then..." he mumbled. The brothers took their seats at a booth and Dean looked over at Sam. "Is it just me, or do these people seem...shifty?" "Really, Dean? Shifty?" Sam scoffed back at his brother. "What?" Dean didn't see the problem with that description. "It's a small town. People probably don't visit often," the younger responded. "If you say so..." The elder Winchester looked back around the diner, where some gave him more unfriendly glances.