Two is Company, Three's a Crowd

"Dude."

"Dude."

"Dude!"

"Dude."

"Really?"

"Really!"

"C'mon."

"Nope."

"You suck."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Bobby sat in the back of the Impala, wishing he could just pop out, but unfortunately the damn flask was securely placed in Dean's front pocket, so he was stuck listening to the most asinine argument known to man.

If they say one more God-damned word, I'm gonna go Poltergeist on their asses.

"Dude, did the temperature just drop in here?"

"No."

"It feels colder."

"You're imagining it."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes!"

Bobby dropped his head into his hands and sent a thought directly upstairs: if anyone's listening, I get it now. I didn't go into the light, instead I went directly to hell.


A/N: No clue where this came from other than a sudden PTSD flashback to car rides with my family.