SPN: S&S: Squelch
Challenge word: Squelch
Meaning: To make a splashing or squishing sound, as with wet shoes, water or mud.
Word Count: 499
Time Frame: Set in the Pilot episode
Warnings/Spoilers: None that I can think of. Not even really for the pilot.
Notes: Sorry this may be a little jarring..I started to get into it, and realized I only had 25 words left. *sighs* So I had to shorten it. This word popped up on my list, and I couldn't help but instantly think of Dean going over the bridge in the pilot.
Sam had held his breath as drove the Impala to John Welch's house, trying desperately not to breathe the stench that lingered in the black heat-box. It had been on Dean's mind as he had made their way into their Dad's motel room, boots still squelching as they tread carefully over the salt lines, the lingering odor of Dean's impromptu bath in the river mingling unpleasantly with the stench of decaying food in the room.
Man, she needed cleaned. Or a boat load of air freshener. No, it needed cleaned. The grit under the towel he had thrown across the seat attested to that much.
Just like Dean to dirty up the car and leave the little brother to clean it. He smirked as he shook his head, leaning his head out the window as he gasped in fresh air.
After the 'interview' with one Mr. Joseph Welch, Sam eyed his watch, frowning. Dean still hadn't called, indicating he was out yet. A long sigh, and he wrinkled his nose. Damn, the car still didn't smell any better. He shook his head, pointing her in the direction he had seen a car wash station. He knew to give Dean a few more hours before intervening. And the stench rolling through the car was becoming more and more of an imperative need. It wasn't as if he hadn't washed the car before; Dean had made sure that the black beauty glistened like a new car, and he knew that if it hadn't been for the police, Dean would have stopped and washed her up before getting them lunch. It was just how his older brother ran the show.
The car wash was empty and devoid of anyone else, and he pulled her through backwards, so that he could wash the exterior first before pulling forward to vacuum out the interior. And give the vinyl a scrubbing it so desperately needed. The muck that had smelled like a toilet last night had gotten way worse through the heat of the day.
He couldn't help but relax a bit as he wet down the glossy black car, the ritual of cleaning the Impala soothing and vaguely routine. There was something calming about soaping up the car, using the rags from the trunk to gently scrub away the filth and grime from the roads. 'Gentle pressure Sam, don't want to scratch up the paint with the grit', Dean's voice murmured quietly, a memory of a younger Dean showing a younger Sam how to use big circles a warm remembrance. Hosing the old girl back down, he fired up the engine enough to pull up and start the arduous process of cleaning the interior. The stench was slowly fading, giving way to the scent of soap and general cleanliness, and after, he stood, cracking his back as he stretched deeply. Done.
He may be leaving to go back to Stanford in the morning, but at least he could help out a little here now.
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