Eighty-Nine Cents in the ash tray. Money did not mean a thing to Castiel but the boys had required it to live on. He remembered his brief moments of being human and having to learn the hard way, just how important money was to survival. Sometimes Dean and Sam had to do horrible things for money, such as lying, cheating and stealing. There once was a time when Castiel would have found that to be morally wrong, but now he admired them for how hard they fought to keep themselves moving and alive.
Half empty bottle of whiskey rolling on the floorboard. Though they fought hard, it was not without a price. Sometimes they would have to do thing to forget. When Dean closed his eyes, he did not see all of the good that he had done for the world. All he saw were the crimes that he committed and all the wrongs that he had done. Sam saw only death, from his mother, to Jessica, it was his fault they were not longer alive. If he had never been born, maybe they would have survived. They drank away the pain, unable to see that they were heroes.
Legos resting under the dash. Castiel could hear them rumbling as the heat blew through the vents. He did not get cold and he did not need the heat, but it was the dead of winter. Dean would have the heat on, if for nothing more than to make sure that Sam was warm and comfortable. A selfless act that Dean would never think about. It was his job to take care of his little brother, it was who he was and the whole reason that he continued to live. Catching those army men from the rear view. He lived for Sam. This car was their home.
Old pie tin and work boots and a few flannel shirts folded in the back. There was a picture near the speedometer. Sam and Dean sitting on the trunk of the car, both were smiling but you can tell it was only for the camera. Their smiles, though sometimes genuine, were always far and few between and became less as time moved on. But the picture and the clothes reminded Cas that this was their home. If there was ever true moments of happiness, it took place in this car. Cas remembered the saying 'you can never go home again.' But that was not the Cas for the boys. They were always home.
This thing burns gas like crazy, but that's alright. Money again was not an issue for Castiel, though he had noticed the frequent stops to fill up the tank so that he could carry on. People got their ways of coping, oh, and I've got mine. Castiel looked down at his fingers gripping the steering wheel.
I drive your car
I roll every window down
And I burn up
Every interstate in this land
I find a back road, I speed it up
Til all the pain seems so far
Yeah, sometimes I drive your car
I leave the radio playing. The same ole tapes from the box in the back. Castiel had memorized every song that Dean had owned. He could sing them without the tapes rolling and he did. He screamed them in his head as he walked around. They were who Dean and Sam were, though more Dean than anything else. Yeah, boys I crank it up! Castiel turned the stereo as high as it would go, turning down a desolate back road and singing at the top of his lungs.
And you'd probably give me the bitch face right now, if you saw this tear rollin' down my face. Castiel pulled one hand away from the steering wheel and wiped a stray tear from his eye. Crying was a chick thing to do and there were to be no chick flick moments. Though even Castiel knew that to be a lie. He had seen the brother's cry on many occasions. But even so, Angels were not supposed to cry. He was cursed with humanity, his emotions completely out of his control. Hey, boys I'm trying to be tough.
And they asked me this morning, if I'd been by your graves. He did a hunter's burial for the both of them. He knew that is how they would have wanted things. It was the hardest thing he had ever had to do in his entire existence, watching them both go up in flames. They needed it that way so that they could move on. He just wished he had the ability to do the same. But he hasn't gone back. That burnt up spot in the woods ain't where I feel you anyways.
I drive your car
I roll every window down
And I burn up
Every interstate in this land
I find a back road, I speed it up
Til all the pain seems so far
Yeah, sometimes I drive your car
I've cussed, I've prayed, I've said goodbye. Castiel's faith had diminished. He knew that they could have been brought back but he was refused. Shook my fist and asked my dad why. He begged and pleaded with his father to bring the brother's back to him. Castiel had done so much, did he not deserve to be with his family? These days when I am missing you both so much. Castiel pressed his foot to the floor and the car lurched forward as fast as it could.
I drive your car
I roll every window down
And I burn up
Every interstate in this land
I find a back road, I speed it up
Til all the pain seems so far
Yeah, sometimes I drive your car
I drive your car
I drive your car
I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind
I drive your car