The Impala sat in the yard, broken, battered, a shattered shell of the proud car she had once been. There were deep tears in her side, gouges in the roof, the hood. Not one window was still intact. A set of car jacks kept the black muscle car off the ground, as if it was softer for her, cradling her against the pain she had to be in if only she was alive.

Nursing a cold bottle of beer in one hand, Sam Winchester sat on the porch of Bobby's Singer's home. He stared out at the car that had been his family's pride and joy. First his father's, then Dean's. The car had been the Winchester family home since Sam was six months old and although he would never share the same obsessive love for it his brother had….that didn't mean he could part with her either.

Bobby had taken one look at the Impala and tried to reason with Sam that she was too far gone, that it would cost a fortune to try and rebuild her again. But Sam was adamant. He wouldn't part with her, no matter what.

Taking a long, deep draft of his beer, Sam let his eyes wander over the broken car, a tight smile coming to his lips as he thought about Dean. In so many ways, that car was Dean. Tough, reliable, full of bad manners and loud music and a deep growling engine that warned people there'd be trouble if they messed with it.

It was a classic. Unstoppable, irreplaceable. Sam may have threatened in the past to get rid of the Impala, arguing with Dean that changing the license plates wasn't enough. That the car stuck out like a sore thumb in small towns….yet another thing Dean seemed to share with the car, because he always managed to turn heads wherever they had gone.

There was a drawn out creaking behind Sam as the screen door swung open slowly. Sam shifted in his seat, looking over his shoulder at the hunched up figure shuffling towards him. " You look like hell, dude."

" You're such a comedian…"

" Aw come on, we won, man. I dragged your sorry ass back into the land of the living. You should be kissing my feet." Sam smiled.

" I should be kicking your ass." Dean growled, sitting down and hissing sharply at the pain he felt through his back. " Look at my car, Sam." The pain in Dean's voice wasn't just from the wounds across his back.

Glancing over at his brother, Dean could see the dark bruising that surrounded one eye, the swelling that almost closed it. His brother had taken a severe beating. They both had trying to escape the demons that had chased them through all seven layers of Hell. If it hadn't been for the Impala, neither of them would be sitting here now. " You ever pull a stupid move like that again…."

" You're welcome, dude." Sam grinned.

Dean said nothing. He turned his gaze back to the Impala. " Bobby said he could get the parts, right?"

" Yeah. Gonna take a bit, but he was sure he could manage it." Sam nodded.

" Good. Starting tomorrow, you can get your bitch ass out of bed early and help with the panel beating. You damaged my baby, you can help fix her." Dean said gruffly. He turned to look at his brother and the light Sam could see in his brother's eyes made every bit of pain worthwhile.

One year and six days ago, Dean Winchester had sold his soul for his brother's life.

Five days ago, Sam Winchester had driven into Hell and gotten it back, shaking the very foundations of Hell with his anger and threats of retribution.

The Impala could be rebuilt, just as the brother's would heal. Dean had learnt how important he was and Sam was never going to let him forget.

Cause classics never die.

The End.