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Author of 193 Stories |
A/N: And this is it. The last bit of this story. I'll make a longer note at the end.
There were still two things that Dean knew better than anything else.
The first was still his brother. He felt he probably understood Sam better than he ever had. He still didn't know everything that went on inside Sam's head (and he knew he probably would never want to) but he knew about the emotions Sam tried so often to hide from him.
He knew how his brother hurt, which awakened a new level of protectiveness in Dean that was more pressing than anything else. And he knew that Sam still hurt, that he hadn't magically gotten over Jess or the onset of his powers or the myriad of unexpected ways his life had changed since Dean had first come for him in Palo Alto. But Dean trusted that Sam wouldn't keep it from him anymore.
Sam's color had returned and so had the sharpness in his eyes. The effects of the demon might never truly go away, but Sam was dealing with it, and Dean would be sure he kept on dealing with it.
The other was still his car. When Gene handed him back the keys, he'd nearly felt like crying, so moved to finally be in possession of his baby again that he nearly forgot how the man's incompetence had kept them here so long and cost so much.
But it didn't matter. The credit card wasn't his, and when he turned the key in the ignition, the Impala purred to life.
Dean glanced at his brother, who smiled at him with a shake of his head. Dean grinned back, put on his sunglasses and pulled the car out of the gas station.
"You ready to blow this town, little brother?"
Sam sighed, looking out across town. "You have no idea."
Dean looked out for a moment himself.. "I think I might."
With smooth motions, Dean put the car into gear and pulled the car out onto the street. Soon, New Junction was nothing but a speck in the rearview mirror. Neither Dean nor Sam looked back.
As the highway stretched in front of him, Dean could feel Sam relaxing in the passenger seat, resuming his comfortable place at Dean's side. Dean felt the highway thrumming beneath the tires and tried to settle himself in for the long haul ahead.
He straightened when he thought he heard a noise, straining to be sure that the Impala was truly back to its old self. He almost thought he heard an uncertain pinging in the engine and he turned to Sam to ask the question.
But Sam was looking at the window, and he looked so contented, that Dean could not bring himself to disturb him.
Looking back out at the road, he let himself relax. Maybe he was just being paranoid.