Sam Drives the Car

by fiction-rules-reality

After Dean is sent to Hell Sam needs a way to cope with his older brothers death, so he drives the impala and remembers. Rated T for two cuss words.

I smiled slightly as I started the car, listening as the engine roared to a start. Tears gathered in my eyes as I drove out of the salvage yard but I blinked them back. Instinctively I drove to the dirt field thirty miles away.

Subconsciously my hand moved and turned on the radio. The chorus of Led Zeppelin's Ramble On blasted through the speakers. Various memories of you loudly singing flashed through my mind. My eyes gathered tears again; this was one of your favorite songs.

I made it to the field twenty-five minutes later with tears running down my cheeks as Robert Plant sang the first line of Heartbreaker.

I sped the car up as fast as she would go and violently turned off the road. Suddenly just past the middle of the field I slammed one the breaks and turned the steering wheel in till the car skidded sideways before stopping. Dust flew everywhere covering the lower half of the black paint but I lost the will to care a couple months ago. It's not like you can come back to see the state of your baby anyways.

The rough stop caused dad's dog tags, tangled together on the rearview mirror, to jingle and his marine cap to fall off the dashboard and onto the passenger-my- seat. An unopened bottle of beer rolled out from under the passenger seat. Your leather jacket, the amulet I gave you Christmas day years ago, and an old empty beer can fell off the back seat.

I turned off the impala and as the engine quieted so did the Legos you stuffed in the air vent. Tears came faster as more memories flashed through my mind; when you first put the Legos in the heater as a rebellion against dad, carving our initials onto the floor, putting them back after his death.

I reached up and brushed away the tears. A smile tugged the corner of my lips before quickly disappearing as I thought of you reaction if you could see me now. You would smirk, punch my arm, and tell me "stop being a baby Sammy." I would laugh and call you a jerk, your immediate reply would have bitch. We'd smile and laugh before leaving for a new case.

As if I wasn't sobbing enough the tears had started to come faster. I opened the door and walked out screaming.

"WHY GOD DAMN IT WHY. IT SHOULD BE ME, FUCK I SHOULD BE DEAD NOT DEAN. PLEASE LET US TRADE BACK PLEASE." I shook my right fist above my head as I yelled. My legs gave out and I fell to the ground crying more than over. "Please," I whimper.

Finally my tears slowed just as my phone started to ring. Sluggishly I pulled myself up off the ground.

"Hey Bobby," I tiredly answered the phone.

"Sam I have a case and I need your help."

"I'll be there in thirty," I sighed and hung up.

I reentered the only home I ever knew and huffed at the wrongness I felt sitting in the driver's seat. I drove back to the yard listening to the same cassette as earlier.

Bobby was waiting for me when I returned, giving me knowing look as he noticed the redness of my eyes and cheeks.

"Did you visit Dean's grave?" he asked sadly.

"No, just went for I drive."

My second fatherly figure, right after Dean, set his hand on my shoulder. "Sammy-"

"It's Sam," I snapped. Only Dean could call me Sammy.

"Sam," he restarted "it's not your fault."

"I know," I lied. It sure felt like it was my fault. If I had not turned my back on Jake, if I had not been killed you would not have felt you needed to sell your soul. "Now let's start on his hunt."

Bobby shook his head and muttered "idjit" but agreed. I walked towards the passenger seat before catching myself and moving to the driver's side.

Subconsciously I thought about what you would do if you could see me. But it doesn't matter because you can't, you're in hell.

Maybe it would be easier to move on if I had hope, if I was not one hundred percent certain where you are and that there is no escape.

But for now I can cope with driving your 'baby.' I hope you don't mind big brother.

89 cents in the ashtray

Unopened bottle of beer

Rolling on the floorboards

Dad's old marine cap on the dash

His dog tags hanging from the rearview

Old beer can, that amulet, and a leather jacket

Folded in the back

This thing burns gas like crazy

But that's alright

People got their ways of coping

Oh, and I've got mine

I drive your car

I roll every window down

And I burn up

Every back road in this town

I find a field, I tear it up

Till all the pains a cloud a dust

Yeah, sometimes I drive your car

I leave the radio playing

That same ole Zep's Cassette that ya left in

Yeah, man I crank it up

And you'd probably punch my arm right now

If you saw these tears rolling down my face

Hey, man I'm trying to be tough

And Bobby asked me this morning

If I'd been by your grave

But that old wood cross ain't where I feel you anyway

I drive your car

I roll every window down

And I burn up

Every back road in this town

I find a field, I tear it up

Till all the pains a cloud of dust

Yeah, sometimes I drive your car

I've cussed, I've prayed, I've said goodbye

Shook my fist and asked God why

These days when I'm missing you this much

I drive your truck

I roll every window down

And I burn up

Every back road in this town

I find a field, I tear it up

Till all the pains a cloud of dust

Yeah, sometimes, brother, sometimes

I drive your car

I drive your car

I hope you don't mind

I hope you don't mind

I drive your car

An: Sorry, not sorry about any feels my story and the parody gave. Original song is I drive your truck by Lee Brice; all I did was change a few lines to fit my idea. Anything recognizable is not mine.