Sam shook himself a bit. Dean glared at him from the passenger seat. "I will turn this car off and make sure you can't start it again if you don't pull off and get some sleep."
"I'm fine, Dean." Sam said, yawning.
"That's the second time you've dozed off. You need sleep, Sam."
Sam rolled his eyes. "You know, sometimes I think dying made you more annoying."
"That's because I'm stuck here all the time, and I can't have your back!"
Sam shook his head again to avoid dozing off. The cars engine sputtered and died. "Come on Dean!" Sam yelled, frustrated.
Sam slapped the steering wheel. "Hey! Be nice to my baby!" Dean howled. Sam rolled his eyes.
"If you're gonna be a jerk, I might as well sleep."
Sam leaned his head against the window and was out within seconds. He'd been awake for nearly 29 hours. Quietly, Dean pulled the blanket from the back seat over his little brother. He turned the radio down so it was background noise, and turned the heat up enough so Sam would be comfortable.
Sam woke up a few hours later to Dean humming Metallica in the passenger seat. He stretched and groaned. "Metallica again?"
Dean grinned cockily. Sam rolled his eyes and started the car. "Hey, Dean?"
Dean nodded and went back to humming Metallica.
As time went on, Dean grew restless. Sam worried that he was turning vengeful, but couldn't force himself to bring it up. He didn't want to lose Dean.
But it ate away at him. If his brother was truly unhappy, and honestly, who wouldn't be, stuck in that car all the time, he felt he should try and help Dean. Even if that meant setting fire to the car.
He brought it up one night. "Do you want to move on?"
Dean looked up. "What do you mean?"
"You know, go into the light and all that."
Dean's eyes widened. "Aw hell no, Sammy! You aren't torching my car, and you aren't sending me to sing with the angels!"
"You want to stay stuck in this car all the time?"
Dean shrugged. "I mean, it's not so bad…"
"You're going crazy, not being able to leave."
Dean's face hardened. "Sam. The answer is no."
"Okay." Sam nodded and focused on the road as they drove along.
Maybe if Sam hadn't been trying to think of other plans, he would've seen the truck.
Maybe if Dean hadn't been worrying about Sam, he would've yelled out a warning.
Maybe if he had glanced up a second sooner, he would've had time to get out of the way.
Maybe if he had blown the horn as he swerved away, Derek Johnson, the driver of the truck, who was on his 19th hour of driving, would've woken up.
Maybe if he'd woken up, this whole mess would've been avoided.
But that wasn't how things played out. Sam glanced up a second too late, Dean yelled out a second too late, and the car swerved a second too late. The sound of the crash was deafening, enough to wake Derek up for a second, enough time for him to think "Holy shit what is…" before his head hit the steering wheel and he was knocked unconscious.
Sam's forehead was bleeding. He was breathing, but he wasn't responding to Dean's frantic yelling. "Sam!"
A burning smell filled the air. "No, no, no, fuck!" Dean yelled. He tried to shake Sam awake with hands of vapor. "Sam! Sammy, please!"
Dean could see the flames by now. His mind raced as he thought of the amount of salt they kept in the trunk. This couldn't be happening. "Sammy!" he screamed.
The world was getting brighter, too bright. Everything was being consumed by light. "No, please, no, Sam!"
The cry left his mouth as the spirit of Dean Winchester vanished into a puff of smoke.
He opened his eyes to find himself sitting on the hood of the Impala in Bobby's salvage yard. "What the…?"
A man he had never seen before, a lanky man in a suit with a trench coat over it, walked up to him. The first thing Dean noticed was the shocking blue color of the man's eyes. "This is your Heaven, Dean."
"Who are you? Are you God?"
"No. Who I am does not matter. What matters is that you are here."
The blue eyed man smiled ruefully. "Samuel Winchester will be alright."
"He's gonna live."
"Why don't you see for yourself?" The man looked pointedly over his shoulder, then back at Dean. Dean took a deep breath and turned around.
Sam stood there, hair messy, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows as usual. He had a sad smile on his face, and an expression that said 'well, I fucked up.'
"Sam? Is it actually you? Are you…are you dead?"
Sam nodded. "Carbon monoxide inhalation from the fire."
"Hey. We're in Heaven. We're done."
Dean nodded, then laughed. Sam gave him a look. "What now?"
"Who would've thought we'd have the same Heaven?"
Sam stared at him for a moment, then laughed. Dean turned around to face the blue eyed man again, who was still standing there, that strange, rueful smile still on his face. "This Heaven, is it just Bobby's junkyard?"
"No. It can be whatever you want it to be. You can drive out of those gates and go anywhere, but this is the home base, as you would say. You can always come back here, because this is what you consider your home."
Sam spoke up from behind him. "You said anywhere?"
"Anywhere. This is Heaven. It molds itself to whatever makes the person, or in this case, people, happy. For you two, it's traveling. It's the endless road. So that road will take you anywhere you want to go."
Sam nodded, and a melancholy smile spread across his face. "Out of all people, who would've thought we'd get a happy ending?"
Dean smiled and shook his head. When he looked up again, the blue eyed man was staring straight at him. "Out of all people, I would say you deserve it the most."
"I must leave now, but if you need me, call for me. My name is Castiel." And with that, he vanished. Dean blinked for a moment, and looked over at Sam. "Where do you want to go first?"
"Are you serious?"
"I've always wanted to go!"
Dean laughed. "Okay bitch. Get in."
Sam shot Dean a glare over the roof of the car as he opened his door. "Jerk."
They slid into their seats. Dean turned the key, and the Impala roared to life. "Man, it's good to be back behind the wheel."
He put her in gear, and they pulled out onto the road.
I felt they deserved a happy ending.