Partners in Crime
Chapter: 1
By: lj user=flower_envy
Disclaimer: I don't own anything nor do I make any money off of it.
Warnings: Wee!chesters.
Rating: PG (*one* swear, I think … gasp)
Word Count: 734
Pairings: none
Spoilers: none
Miscellaneous: Comments are love!
Prompt: #08 – Silence
P.O.V.: Dean (12 years old)
Summary: Dean takes the Impala for a test drive.
He could smell the old leather baking in the summer sun as he slipped behind the shiny black wheel. He slowly gripped it, ignoring the heat rippling off everything inside the car. He watched with a smirk as his knuckles went white around the steering wheel. He sat in pure ecstasy within the sweltering car, hands on the wheel and right foot placed on the gas pedal as if it belonged there.
And suddenly he was snapped from his daydream as he heard the passenger door slam beside him. His eyes shot in that direction, muscles coiled and ready to launch into action at the slightest sign of danger.
"Dad would *kill* you if he knew you were behind the wheel –"
"What're you gonna do: tell him?" Dean retorted quickly. There was a silent "I dare you" added to the end of this that he didn't really need to voice. Sammy got the hint.
"So, what now?" Sammy asked quietly, a mischievous smile creeping across his lips. Dean watched as his younger brother looked from the ignition to him a few times. It took him a couple minutes, and quite a few glances at the ignition, to realize what Sam was hinting at.
"– No way, Sammy. You just said he'd kill me for *sitting in her.*"
"So now big, tough Dean-o is scared?" Sam taunted.
"Bitch."
"Jerk."
Dean smiled and faced forward again, watching his brother through the corner of his eye. "So, you wanna go for a ride, huh?" he asked, and before Sam could've gotten out of the car, Dean had pulled the key out of his pocket, turned it in the ignition, and hit the gas.
"You had the key the whole time?" Sam asked in a mixture of anger, confusion, and panic.
"I wouldn't sit here if I didn't plan to drive her, Sammy," he answered matter-of-factly.
"You really are a friggin' jerk, Dean," Sam responded huffily, exaggeratedly crossing his arms over his chest. "You know, this is so illegal."
"Well, when you're some big-shot attorney-at-law, you can charge me. Until then, let's see someone try," Dean answered haughtily.
"Dean, you're 12."
"Yes, boy genius. And you're 8. Hell of a co-pilot."
"We are gonna get in so much trouble."
"Sammy, shut up for a second. I'm still learning how to drive her."
Sam's eyes went wide. "You've never driven this thing?"
"No, Sammy, I have never driven her. Now let me concentrate."
"You're gonna get us both killed," Sammy panicked
"You'll be fine if you just *shut up.*"
Dean flicked on the cassette deck, and AC/DC came blaring from the speakers. He saw Sammy's hand reach for the dial and he slapped it away, turning the volume up rather than down.
They'd driven around the parking lot at least ten times by then, and Dean was bored with it. He began to steer the car toward the exit, and therefore the road. "No way, Dean!" Sammy shouted, but it was barely audible over the music. Dean watched him from the corner of his eye as Sammy clicked his seatbelt in and slammed his fist against the volume on the radio, immediately silencing it. "You have got to be kidding!" he shouted.
"You don't need to yell, Sammy. I'm right here." His ears were ringing, and his heart was pumping so fast that even a shout was hardly perceptible. He just wanted Sam to stop being a buzz-kill.
"Turn around," Sam commanded.
"As if," Dean rejoined.
"Then stop and let me out," Sam replied, struggling to remain calm.
"No," Dean answered simply. He saw the blood rush to his brother's face and knew that a longer answer than this was needed. He continued, "You put me up to it."
"I did not!" Sam yelled. "You had the key the whole time!"
"And I wasn't really gonna use it unless you asked me to," Dean explained.
"Yeah, right. You just want a scapegoat."
"I want a partner in crime."
By now they were turning onto the road. Sammy looked from his brother to the road and back. Dean watched his brother shrug as he floored the gas pedal.
They sped along the dusty, deserted country road in silence for hours. Sammy spent most of that time smiling despite himself, and Dean smiled more at the smile on his brother's face than he did at the freedom of the road.