AN: Ok, so for all of you subscribed to God Mend These Broken Wings that happen to see this, I'm sorry it's taking so long, I've been busy with Christmas whatnots, which is also why this drabble is a bit late. I expect I'll be able to get things done faster after December 27th, which is my birthday :)
Dean glared out the motel window at the shapeless white lump that had once been his impala.
"I freaking hate snow!" he said, turning to Sam for validation that snow did, in fact, suck, but Sam just shrugged. Dean frowned and turned back. "When it snows it pours," he growled at the frosty glass.
"The saying is 'when it rains it pours,' Dean, not 'when it snows it pours,'" Sam pointed out.
Dean glanced back at him, eyebrow arched. "Sammy, look outside. There's snow. And what's it doing?"
Sam sighed. "Pouring," he conceded.
Dean turned back to the window, triumphant.