Chapter Text
Ch. 1
The ’67 Impala cruised down the road with no real destination other than anywhere but home. It was nearing midnight and there hadn’t been a single motel in the past two-hundred miles.
Rob shifted in the passenger seat, growing increasingly tired of the silence. It had only taken him and his cousin, John, a few minutes to discover that their taste in music varied too widely for either of them to agree. Rob preferred classical music. John, on the other hand, would quicker pop in a CD of Led Zeppelin than “Some dead German guy.”
There was an attempt at converting the younger man to a more refined palette, but it was in vain. No sooner had Rob said Tchaikovsky than John vetoed it and substituted it with Aerosmith, which Rob was just not going to stand for.
There was a fight. Pachelbel suffered a mortal wound but damn if he didn’t take Pink Floyd with him. Thankfully, a ceasefire was put in place between the kingdoms of Screeching-Tone-Deaf-Imbeciles and Ivory-Tickling-Powdered-Wig-Wearing-Bozos before any serious damage happened to the Impala, or her passengers.
An hour later, Rob couldn’t take it anymore. He had to say something to break the silence.
“Do you ever think about how we were conceived?”
“No,” John spat out too quickly. “No, I do not. And neither do you.”
“Oh, come on, aren’t you the least bit curious?”
“No, and you want to know why? Because there are just some things that no one needs to know.”
“But –”
“No.”
“You can’t –”
“Stop.”
“John –”
“I swear to God, Robert, I will crash this car, right now!”
Rob heaved a sigh and sat back in his seat. The silence filled the car once again. “Do you think they turned into women –”
The Impala squealed to a stop and Rob threw the gear into park. He unbuckled himself and launched himself across the seat and wailed into his cousin’s arm.
Rob tried to defend himself, but John’s knee pinned down one of his arms, while his own body pinned down the other.
“Ow, ow! Stop it! Why are you such a baby sometimes?” Rob snapped, shoving John back over to his side of the car.
“Why do you have to think about things you have no business thinking about?” John retorted. “No one needs to know how or why or what or anything about that. No one. Not you. Not me. Not anyone! Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Good.”
John threw the Impala into gear. They continued to drive along, but Rob refused to do so in silence.
“Okay, we won’t talk about that, but can we at least talk about something?”
“Sure, we’ll talk. What do you want to talk about?”
“How was your semester?”
John shrugged into his seatbelt. “Not bad for the end of my freshman year.”
“Was that the same freshman year that I had to save your ass from getting arrested, and expelled? Twice.”
John smiled and nodded. “But, man, wasn’t she worth it? She was at least a seven, Robbie.”
“She was the Dean’s daughter, John.”
“Okay, okay, she was an eight, but I’m not going any higher.”
Rob rolled his eyes with a laugh. “You are unbelievable.”
“And, what about you? How was your junior year? How does it feel to finally be a senior?”
Rob shrugged. “You mean how does it feel to be the first person in our family to graduate from college?”
“Yeah, that.”
“I don’t know, Johnny. I know Dad’s proud of me. He’s been wanting this ever since I was born. And I know he wants me to go to grad school – I was kind of hoping that this would be the end of the line.”
“I thought you wanted to be a lawyer.”
Rob looked out the car window. “I don’t know anymore. I mean, yes, I did want to be a lawyer. But now, I’m not so sure. Dad was so proud of me when I got accepted into Stanford. I don’t know, maybe I’m just still stressed out from the end of the semester. Do you know how many hours I had to take?”
“Twenty-one.”
“Twenty-one! I was so ready for this year to be over. But even then, I still have to take thirty-six more hours next year – just to qualify for grad school.”
“Dude, I barely survived twelve.”
“You barely survived high school. How the hell you got into Stanford is beyond me.”
“What can I say? I’m a genius”
“You’re lucky.”
“Lucky genius.”
Rob smiled and shook his head. He jumped as his phone vibrated in his pocket. He fished it out and looked at the caller ID. “John, is your phone off?”
“Why?”
“Because that’s the only reason your dad would be trying to call me,” Rob said, sliding his finger across the screen.
“No, don’t –!”
“WHERE THE HELL IS THAT LITTLE BASTARD?!”
“Hello to you, too, Uncle,” Rob said, holding the phone away from his ear.
“But that little shit on the phone RIGHT NOW! I’m going to kill him!”
“He’s speaking metaphorically,” another voice piped in.
“Like hell I’m speaking metaphorically! I’m going to metaphorically kick his ass!”
“Did you ‘borrow’ the car again?” Rob groaned at John.
“Borrow? Borrow! Oh, that’s brilliant! Oh, yeah, he ‘borrowed’ it! He borrowed it right out from under my goddamn nose! You tell him that if he and my baby are not in this garage before noon tomorrow, I will track him down and tie him to the hood like a goddamn deer!”
“A metaphorical deer.”
“Yes, Cas! A metaphorical deer! Do you mind? I’m yelling at our son, here.”
“Yes, I do mind you yelling at our son.”
“Would you rather me yell at you?”
“I would rather you not yell at all.”
Rob exchanged a look with John, who just shook his head, as his parents continued to argue. Rob rolled his eyes, then cleared his throat. “Guys, guys! I think he got the message. I will make sure that John returns the car to you, first thing in the morning.”
“Traitor,” John spat.
“Thank you, Robert,” the angrier uncle said. “I’m glad to know that one of you is responsible.”
“Love you, too, Dad,” John muttered under his breath.
“Noon, tomorrow, or your ass is grass!”
“We’ll be there, Uncle Dean,” Rob assured him. “Bright an early.”
“And don’t skip breakfast!”
“Yes, sir. Goodnight, Uncle –”
“And don’t forget to fill up the gas tank! And check the tire pressure!”
“Yeah, we’ll do that – yes, I’m writing it down. No, I’m not lying. Okay, I’ll send you a picture of me writing it down. Goodnight – yes, Uncle Dean, okay, we’re pulling up to a motel right now. No, sir, no all-night driving. That would be irresponsible. Goodni – yes, sir. Yes, I will. Love you, too, Uncle Dean. I’ll tell him. Goodnight – okay. Okay. Goodnight!”
Rob hung up the phone and pinched the bridge of his nose. “He says to turn your damn phone on so he doesn’t have to waste minutes calling outside of his plan to yell at you.”
“Cheapskate.”
“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t have stolen his car. You know how much he loves this thing.”
“I didn’t steal it. I borrowed it,” John defended himself. “And besides, I’m the one who’s been keeping this thing alive for the past fifteen years. He’s been making me fix since I was old enough to hold a wrench.”
“That doesn’t mean you have the right to steal it.”
“Morals, morals, morals. Always morals with you.”
“Hey, if I don’t keep you on the straight and narrow, and you get arrested, I’m going to get arrested as an accessory. Do you know what that means?”
“No grad school?”
“No grad school! And that is just an option.”
“Wait, hold on. A minute ago, you didn’t even know if you wanted to go to grad school.”
Rob opened his mouth to retort, then heaved a sigh and looked down at his phone as if it had all the answers. Of course it never had any answers at all. What good was an iPhone if it didn’t solve his existential crisis. He had half a mind to throw it out the window.
“Rob? Robbie? Robert!”
Rob snapped awake, not realizing he had fallen asleep. “What – are we being attacked?”
“No, dude, we’re here.”
“Where’s here?”
“Welcome to the reason we won’t be able to meet Dad on time tomorrow!”
“Oh, no, what have you done?”