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The ‘67 Impala sped down the empty road of rural province. The sun was setting on the distant horizon, slowly disappearing behind the desolate hills ahead.
Inside the car, Dean drummed his fingers on the leather of the steering wheel while the steady hum of the engine permeated the silence.
“Listen to her purr, Sammy,” He voiced proudly with a chuckle, caressing the dashboard with one hand. He pressed harder on the acceleration pedal, eliciting another loud, satisfying drone of the motor.
Sam glanced at his brother from the passenger seat with an amused snicker. “Do you want me to give you two some privacy?” He quipped, peering back out the windshield
“Aww, don’t listen to him, baby,” Dean cooed to the car, “He doesn't understand us.”
Sam grinned, shaking his head. “Where're we off to anyways?”
“Picked up a case in Dayton, Tennessee,” Dean replied, resting an arm against the window. “Should be there in a couple of hours.”
Sam nodded. He glanced out the window somewhat sadly. Despite the life he was beginning to relish once again, he couldn't help but miss the time he spent in California with his college buddies. At that point, he had found a way out of “the life”, the “family business.” Nonetheless, ever since his big brother reappeared back in the picture - along with a cascade of unfortunate events - he’d been willingly thrown back into the life he’d spent all of his teenage years desperately trying to escape.
“You okay?”
Sam turned to Dean, who gazed back with a look of nonchalance undoubtedly laced with concern.
“Huh? No, yeah, I’m fine,” Sam replied, off guard. He already knew his reply wouldn't pass with his brother.
Dean had turned back to watching the road, but he held a solemn expression. “You miss Stanford, don’t you?” He said as more of a statement than a question.
Sam gave up, knowing he wouldn't be able to lie to Dean. He remained silent, knowing it was the only response he would need.
Dean sighed. The last of the day’s sunlight illuminated the remorse stitched on his face. “I’m sorry, Sammy.”
Sam furrowed his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”
“You had a way out, Sam. You got out of the life, you did what most hunters can only dream of doing. And because of Dad always pressuring you to stay with the family-” he continued in a familiar, self-deprecatory tone, “-because of me, the normal life you've always wanted is gone.”
Dean motionlessly stared out onto the road, maintaining his habitual stoic facade.
Sam shook his head, beginning to speak again, yet Dean continued.
“You know,” he continued with a dispirited optimism, “It’s not too late. It’s not too late for you, Sammy, you can still go back to Stanford. Be with your friends, become a lawyer, have the life you want-”
“Dean, stop.”
The older brother glanced back at Sam, his impassiveness slowly peeling away. In Dean’s misty eyes, Sam could see everything he’d been inflicted with since he was away, and even before then; he saw the worn burden of a boy whose little brother had left him behind with nothing but an absent father and a lost purpose.
He paused deliberately, piecing together the right message. “Dean, ever since we were kids, Dad always told us how important family was, even though he was hardly ever there for us; he’d always be off on a hunt, leaving us alone in some nearby motel while you took care of me for weeks on end. I never really understood how important it could be, you’re right, all I wanted was to get out. I didn't understand the importance of family - not until you came back.”
Dean squinted, his blunt expression melting away.
“Yes, I miss Stanford. Yes, I miss my friends, the college, everything. But it isn't my life, Dean. I've realized … it never was.”
Sam paused for a moment, contemplating. “Even though Dad was hardly there, he still taught us something. His absence taught us that at the end of the day, we still had us - even if he wasn't there. We still had each other, and that’s what mattered, above all else.”
Dean’s lips trembled, the corners tugging upward just slightly.
Sam concluded softly, “Other things may change, but we start and end with family.”
For a few moments, the air was silent aside from the rumble of the engine.
“So,” Dean started, breaking the quiet, “You’re sure you wanna do this, give up the ‘apple-pie’ life you've wanted?”
Sam smiled confidently at his brother. “I’m sure,” he replied. “I don’t want any other life than ours.”
Dean beamed with gratitude, tilting his head nostalgically as memories of him and Sam filled his head. “I guess that makes my job a lot easier, huh? Taking care of my pain-in-the-ass little brother?"
Sam couldn't suppress his grin, laughing lightly while downcasting his dimpled eyes to his lap. Outside the car, darkness blanketed the sky as the sun vanished completely, the moon peeking out of the evening clouds.
“Alright, no more chick-flick moments,” Dean announced fondly, putting a cassette in the tape deck. Back in Black resounded loudly from the speakers.
“Dude, you seriously need to update your music collection,” Sam remarked, grinning at his brother who was currently jamming out in the driver’s seat.
“You know the rules, Sammy,” Dean replied loudly over the song. “Driver picks the music; shotgun shuts his cakehole.”
Contentedly, the Winchester brothers continued down the road, a canopy of stars lighting their path and AC DC blaring as they rode through the night.