The only company he had was the intermittent light from the streetlights above him and the soft hum of the radio that had been turned down hours ago. The impala's growls echoed through the cars cabin, a comfort in the dark.
He had been driving down some nameless back road for some time now and even though his eyes were trying to fight for sleep, the dark anger he felt pushed him forwards. He would hunt that demon down and he would kill it. 'For Mary' he thought. A few miles later though, his thoughts were interrupted by a small sound.
A soft murmur reached Johns ears from the back seat. He glanced into the rearview mirror to inspect his charges. Dean was slumped over against the left car door, eyes fluttering beneath his lids. Leaning against him was Sam, messy hair hiding his face but John knew he was asleep.
They were wearing the same clothes as yesterday and had a slight smell coming from them. They were exhausted from all of the traveling, though neither boy would have ever said anything.
They hadn't stopped at a motel in a few days, which John felt slightly bad about, yet he knew that the monster he was hunting was too big of a threat to be left alone for long.
Looking back once more he watched his son's sleep. Untroubled by pain or sadness, looking like resting cherubs against the vanilla colored leather. The smallest of smiles graced John's lips, a rare occurrence after Mary died. Only his sons could bring him joy now and he saw so much of her in them that, at times, it hurt. Dean had her smile and brilliant eyes while Sam's quick mind and face resembled hers almost perfectly.
Suddenly he felt a small tug in his heart and mind, as though mary were there trying to tell him something. He looked around the car and saw day old burger wrappers and stale chips, crumbled blankets and one of Dean's toy soldiers.
"I guess it would be okay to stop for a while, wouldn't it?" John whispered to the air. Deep in his heart he hoped that Mary heard him and smiled.