Hello, fellow Supernatural fans! I've been a lurker in this fandom for too long, and I have decided to try my hand at writing some fanfiction. Please enjoy this chapter and leave me some kind reviews! Love to all of you

-Grace

It's winter, full-on darkness, the sky a sheet of velvet stretched drum-tight over the flatlands of Nebraska or South Dakota or wherever the Hell they are. Dad won't turn on the heat in the Impala, and neither of his sons dare complain. Instead they huddle together on the bench seat, Dean pressed against the cold glass of the window and Sam sitting next to him. It was somewhat of a treat to ride like this, all three Winchester boys chasing the fat yellow moon over the horizon, a Johnny Cash song thrumming on the radio. It makes Dean and Sam feel safe, something that neither of the boys feel very often. Not with hunting and monsters and wolves always at the door. In this dark, terrifying carnival, the Winchester boys have always been forced into the front seat.

"I'm sleepy, Dean."

Sam leaned against his older brother's shoulder, shaggy dark hair falling into his eyes.

"Get off me, Sammy!" Dean shoved Sam and the four year old blinked innocently up at him, his eyes wide and naïve.

"Stop it, boys," John snapped from the driver's seat. He turned up the radio, Walk the Line fading in and out of static. A few minutes passed, Dean stared out the window into the dark grasslands. Prairie flashed past, dark and full under the sky. Lonely farmsteads dotted the black stretch, a single truck stop flashed neon. A sudden kind of heartache filled Dean's chest, like metal bands around his heart. He wanted this moment, this wonderful moment of riding shotgun with his family, to last forever.

A few minutes later, Dean felt Sam curl up against him, the younger boy's head leaning against his older brother's shoulder. Dean just stared out the windshield as the Impala hurtled towards dawn. No matter what lay ahead for the Winchester family, they would face it together.