Summary: One man's trash is another man's treasure. Just had to get this down after seeing "Dark Side of the Moon."
Lost and Found
They're driving along Route 95 half an hour out from the tiny Idaho town where they were murdered when the Impala abruptly coasts to a stop. The engine idles.
"Dean?" Sam doesn't know why they've stopped. "You okay, man? Want me to drive?" Maybe his brother's tired or something—side effect of being dead, he supposes. That, or the fact that God has truly left the building has finally hit him.
Dean's staring out the front windshield as if it's telling him all the answers to next Sunday's crossword puzzle. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows convulsively.
Sam's about to say his name again, when Dean suddenly stomps on the gas and turns the wheel. The tires squeal in protest and Sam holds on for dear life. With that, the car's back on the road to town.
Sam doesn't say a word when Dean tears into the Minnie Motel's parking lot. He follows Dean out to the room where they'd...spent the night sleeping like the dead. More dead than asleep.
Dean's done picking the lock and is inside by the time Sam gets there. He shoots a look around to see if anyone's watching before stepping inside after his brother, who's trashing the room.
"Dean? What are you doing?"
The older man comes out of the bathroom holding a small plastic wastebasket. "It's not here," he says. He sounds as if he's lost his puppy. No, scratch that; he sounds as if he's lost Sam. Only Sam is standing right here.
"What?" Sam casts a look around at the room. The trashcan by the door's turned over, as if Dean dumped its contents upside down. The covers are pulled off of the bed. The bathroom's a mess, from what Sam can see. "What's not here?" he asks, but Dean's already pushing past him and charging out the door.
"Dean?" What on earth is he looking for…in the dumpster? "Dean, man. Come on. Dude, tell me so I can help you look."
"Maid cleaned the room," Dean mutters. "Trash goes in here, so where is it?!" he yells as he slams the lid of the dumpster down. He pounds his fist into the rusty metal.
Sam sighs and tries again. "Dean…"
"My amulet." Dean's looking at his shoes, the ground, anywhere but at Sam. "I threw it away, and now I can't find it. If I hadn't been so goddamn stupid…" He slams his hand into the lid again.
Sam starts to say something, but Dean cuts him off. "I always do this," he says angrily. "I just let things go and they never come back, and I can't find them again, and…"
Sam grabs Dean's arm before he can split his knuckles open on the dented dumpster. "Dude, chill. It's okay, man."
"No, Sam, it's not. It used to be I never took that thing off, and now I've lost it." Sam's still clutching his arm in a tight grip, so Dean aims a kick at the dumpster instead. And another just for the heck of it.
"No, you haven't." Sam reaches into his jacket and pulls something out. "Here." He holds his fist out at his teary-eyed (he's not crying—he's not. If anyone even implies that he is, he'll kick their asses) brother.
Dean swallows and reaches out to take the precious offering. Sam's hand opens, and a tangle of black and gold falls into Dean's palm. "It's all sweaty and gross," he mumbles as nimble fingers untangle the mess, and loops it on over his head.
Sam rolls his eyes. "You're welcome."
The corner of Dean's mouth twitches. "Thanks, man." He pats Sam's chest twice as he brushes by him and saunters over to the double-parked Impala. "I guess you're worth keeping around after all."
This prompts a snort from Sam. "Course I am, you ass," he says as he slides back into his seat. "You can't keep track of your own shit half the time."
Dean gives Sam an affronted look. "That's not true. I know where all my stuff is." He glances at his brother. "The things I like, anyway. In my car."
Story of their lives. Everything they own is in the car. Or maybe Dean hadn't been talking about that.
The engine roars and they're back on the road again before Sam interrupts Kirk Hammet's guitar solo. "Hey, Dean, you realize you totally freaked out over a piece of jewelry just now?" Teasing humor tinges his voice.
Dean levels a glare at him. "I did not 'freak out.' And it's manly bling, so it doesn't count." He sniffs. "Besides, you gave me the damn thing, so what does that make you? You woulda cried if I didn't wear it."
Sam huffs. "I was nine. Gimme a break. I thought it was cool."
Dean shrugs and hems in minor agreement. "Yeah, so did I." His hand wanders to his chest and fingers the gold pendant. "It's cool. Don't care if we can't find God with it. He's a douche anyway."
A snort from Sam has him glancing over. "What? I can't say that God's a dick? He is."
Sam laughs. "Only you, Dean."
The brothers share a smile as the Impala tears out of Winchester, Idaho. The sun glints off of the amulet, making it glow.
AN: Dude. There really is a Minnie Motel in WINCHESTER, Idaho. There were two Disney references in tonight's episode, so that's why I had the "Minnie" thing, but seriously, I wasn't expecting "Winchester" to pop up when I searched for a "Minnie Motel." Coincidence? I think not.