DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING. ALSO, NOT BETA-READ, ALL MISTAKES ARE MINE.
A/N: While I re-read Planetarium so that I can write the next chapter, I decided to write a little missing scene of Supernatural's S06E03 - The Third Man. Those of you who watch the show know that this is when Dean "races" Sam to the house of the police officer they need to interrogate.
That said, and as the story's title suggests, I would give anything to see Dean and his '67 Impala racing Dominic Toretto and his '70 Charger. Now, that would be a truly supernatural race, wouldn't it?
In lieu of that, I hope you enjoy this little story of mine.
Supernatural Fast and Furious
A beautifully kept, gleaming black 1967 Chevrolet Impala SS was seen speeding along Lincoln Avenue, in the small town of Easter, PA. Her driver, a thirty-one year old hunter of all evil things called Dean Winchester, was on his way to a police station to start working on a case picked up by his younger brother Sam.
While he drove his pride and joy, Dean was talking on the phone with his eleven year old defacto son Ben. The kid was trying to convince him that his baseball had mysteriously found its way to Lisa's favourite china vase, smashing the poor thing to smithereens.
'Ben,' he said, doing his best to remain serious, 'are you trying to tell me that you didn't have anything to do with it?'
'Exactly,' the kid had the cheek to reply, 'it just flew out of my hand, it was like…'
'Magic?' Dean asked sounding both amused and sarcastic.
'Yeah! I swear,' Ben insisted, 'the ball just shot straight towards it!'
Dean repressed a chuckle while he parked his baby by the side of the police station. He noticed that Sam was already there, also suited up and leaning his extremely tall frame against a pitch black 2006 Dodge Charger SRT8. Choosing to ignore the plastic monstrosity his kid brother called his car, he turned the ignition off, opened the door and, climbing out of the car, he reassumed his conversation with his almost-son:
'Ben, I know you're lying.'
'How do you know that?' the kid challenged.
'Because I lie professionally, that's how,' he replied matter-of-factly, 'now, tell your mum you broke the damn thing and take it like a man. Okay?'
Ben didn't answer immediately and that made him add, this time with a little more emphasis:
'Ok?'
'Yeah, alright,' Ben finally conceded.
'Okay.' Dean said. He then pressed the button to end the call feeling a little proud of his parenting skills.
'Wow,' he heard Sam saying.
'What?' Dean asked.
'You, molding the minds of tomorrow,' Sam replied, 'who knew?'
'Yeah,' Dean said, 'tell me about it.'
'How'd it go?' Sam asked him.
'With?' Dean replied, being purposely obtuse.
'You and Lisa.' Sam explained, then he asked, 'how'd she take it when you bailed?
'Shockingly cool, actually,' Dean replied deciding to be honest.
'Better for everybody,' Sam then said setting off towards the station's entrance.
It was his overtly cold tone that made Dean stare at Sam's large back and, once again, he could not shake off the feeling that the man he had in front of him was not Sam, at least not all of him.
'Yeah, I suppose,' Dean forced himself to say. He then glanced at the all-too-modern looking car his younger brother had chosen as his ride and, in an effort to start one of their brotherly bantering sessions, he taunted Sam by saying, 'still driving the plastic piece of crap, huh?'
'What's your mileage, again?' Sam asked still sounding a little too cold for Dean's liking.
'Shut up,' he replied grumpily.
The two brothers entered the building and Sam got immediately down to business, explaining Dean all the details about the case. While he listened, Dean could not help but to feel slightly insulted that Sam, with his offhand remark, had essentially called his beloved Impala a thirsty old lady.
He was so not okay with that!
A few minutes later Dean followed Sam outside the morgue, the two of them were going to pay a visit to their sole eyewitness, Officer Ed Colfax. With his mind already set on the case, Dean was about to forgive his younger brother for offending his most prized possession when, to his most profound astonishment, he caught Sam throwing a patronising glance at the Impala while he climbed into that horrendous mass of electronic chips and plastic he chose to drive instead.
'Son of a bitch,' Dean muttered to himself.
With a newfound determination, the hunter opened the door to the Impala and, getting behind the steering wheel, he turned on the 327 V8 engine, revving it up a couple of extra times more than it was necessary, if only to dampen the noise that came from the Charger's 6.1 liter Hemi one. That alone made Dean's lips curve into a smug smirk, eager to see what Sam would do next.
Thankfully, his little brother didn't make him wait for too long and, very soon, he saw the Charger speeding away from the Impala. Hurrying, Dean pressed the brake, moving the lever to its Drive position, then, removing his left foot from the brake, he then nearly floored the gas pedal with his right one, while at the same time silently apologising to his treasured car for the abuse. Alas, it was more than necessary, considering the fact that the Charger was already a few hundred yards away.
'Come on, Baby,' Dean said talking to the steering wheel, 'let's show Sammy what we can do together.'
The Impala responded immediately and soon, all two hundred and seventy five horses that had come as stock in the 327 V8 4 barrel engine, plus the ones that Dean had extracted from it while tuning it, were busy trying to catch up with the Charger's bigger and meaner V6 beast.
Thankfully, it looked like Sam hadn't caught on with Dean's impromptu race. Instead it seemed like the youngest Winchester was set on overtaking a delivery van that was blocking the way while its driver probably searched for the right street number. Seeing the black Charger swerving towards the left of the van gave Dean an idea: pulling the Impala's steering wheel towards the right, he pushed the car in the impossibly narrow space in between the van and the cars parked along Lincoln Avenue's pavement.
Without giving himself time to think of the potentially disastrous consequences his actions might have for the poor Impala's bodywork, Dean just darted past the van, startling its driver so much that the poor man slammed his foot onto the brake, making the van stop dead right in the middle of the street.
Dean failed to see that though: his eyes were focused on the SRT8.
The Charger was already way ahead of him but, using up every bit of the inertia he had accumulated while overtaking the van, Dean continued to push the Impala, keeping just a handful of centimeters away from the line of parked cars. He felt the car's automatic gearbox climbing up to its third and final gear and that made him smile in appreciation: the Impala was telling him to push her even faster.
'Your wishes are orders, Baby,' Dean muttered.
Increasing the pressure on the gas pedal, he also tightened the grasp on the steering wheel and when an instant later he caught up with the Charger, he felt himself holding his breath while he first leveled with it then, in one clean move, got the Impala right in front of the SRT8. Only then, Dean allowed himself to breathe.
The relief only lasted for a moment because, when the two cars crossed one of the many intersections, Dean of course crossed a red traffic light but, to his surprise, so did Sam. That, if nothing else, made it obvious to Dean that while his younger brother might not be aware of what was going on, this new-and-improved Sam was not going to make things easy for Dean either.
It didn't matter, Dean thought resolutely: flashy new car or not, he was still going to kick Sam's ass!
Keeping his foot steady on the accelerator, Dean managed to ensure he stayed ahead of the Charger all the way out of the town's center and, when the busy streets soon gave way to the wider and emptier avenues of the suburbs, he knew that's where the real race would begin. In fact, just as he turned right to take one of the side streets, he caught out of the corner of his eye, the moment when Charger started veering inwards, readying itself to overtake the Impala.
'What the…' Dean exclaimed.
To his dismay, he saw Sam using every one of his SRT8's four hundred and twenty five horses to get the Charger back in front of the Impala. The ease of the maneuver made Dean feel like punching something.
Alright, it was time for a new plan.
In his head, Dean tried to remember the route the two cars had to follow to get to Officer Colfax's place. He knew that after leaving this quiet neighbourhood behind, they would have to travel a short distance on a small provincial road. He also knew that the road was reasonably flat but packed full with corners, said corners would nullify any advantage power-wise while, at the same time, benefit the driver with the better skills.
'Baby, we're gonna win this,' Dean told the Impala, his voice loaded with conviction.
Feeling significantly calmer, he kept as close to the Dodge's rear bumper as possible where he remained all the way out of the suburban streets. Then, just as he spotted the provincial road ahead of him, he decided to risk it. In an all or nothing move, Dean pulled sideways to the left, eternally grateful that there was no incoming traffic, and, once again, he first leveled with the Charger, overtaking it just as the two cars got to the tiny bridge that served as the official start of the road.
The first corner was a very tight left-hander which led to a quick succession of equally aggressive turns. Dean thought that the people who had drawn the street map he'd seen hadn't paid justice to the severity of the road and soon, he found he didn't have time for even those trivial considerations, being forced to focus his attention solely on keeping the Impala on the tarmac not to mention ahead of the Charger.
Just as he had predicted, Sam seemed to have just as much trouble tackling the corners with the stupidly overpowered Charger but, all things considered, Dean had to concede that his kid brother wasn't doing so badly. Still, that was nowhere near enough: Sam just wasn't as good a driver as Dean was.
Plus, he didn't have the Impala, thought Dean, a smug smirk appearing on his face.
Less than fifteen minutes later, he saw the sign indicating the entrance of the estate where Officer Colfax lived: it was one of those all-too-nice, all-too-clean neighbourhoods where, a million years ago, Dean would have hated to live in. Way too many things had happened to that Dean ever since.
His brain hadn't had the time to complete that thought when the unthinkable happened: just as he and Sam left the provincial road to get into the neighbourhood's main street, Dean saw the SRT8 increasing its speed, eating up all the advantage Dean had so painstakingly built up. A moment later, Dean could actually see Sam's face reflected on the Impala's rear view mirror. His kid brother appeared entirely too calm for Dean's liking and that only made him even more determined to thoroughly kick his ass.
Unfortunately and in spite of Dean's best efforts, the SRT8 once again got side-by-side with the Impala and, just as it had happened before, Dean was forced to watch as his younger brother pulling away, swerving back in front of him in the same sort of aggressive driving style a much younger Sam had displayed an age ago, when he had blocked their father's truck right in the middle of the road.
A deep frown replaced the smirk on Dean's expression and it wasn't only because of the race.
Something was definitely wrong with his kid brother.
Worry quickly replacing his competitive instinct, Dean was about to give up the fight when he noticed that, to get to the house they were after, they would have to turn left at the fifth of the upcoming intersections. The two cars bypassed one, then two and then three of them. Just ahead, Dean saw a no entry sign, indicating that that specific street was a one-way only.
Again not giving himself the time to think about anything but his driving, Dean pulled the steering wheel to the left and, pushing the accelerator all the way down, he made sure that he covered the length of the street as fast as possible, hoping no one would be stupid enough to start driving up that street at that precise moment.
A few instants later, he got to the road where the Colfax residence was. To his shock, he saw that Sam's Charger was there too but it was too little, too late: thanks to his recklessness, Dean just about managed to park his car not only by Officer Colfax's house, but also right in front of Sam's plastic piece of crap.
He had won the race.
Pushing his worry aside, for just a few moments, Dean allowed himself to feel immensely proud of what his baby could still do. It was with that spirit that he climbed out of his beloved Impala at the same time as Sam did the same with his Charger. Dean was magnanimous enough to wait for his brother to catch up with him and, as the two made it to the house's main door, he heard Sam asking him with a wondering tone of voice:
'Were you, uh…racing me?'
'No,' Dean replied firmly, 'I was kicking your ass.'
'Very mature…' was all Sam could say back.
Dean just smirked deciding that, for now, he would not pay attention to the nagging sensation he felt in his gut. Instead, he chose to enjoy that, once again, he had shown Sam that he and the Impala were an unbeatable combination. Especially when racing against modern plastic pieces of crap.
THE END.