Brrrrrm, brrrrrm! Squeak rattle-rattle chug-chug... Brrrrrm!
.
Sam and Dean and Castiel. They walk down the worn stone steps to the Impala.
"So that is Lucifer. Destroyed," the angel assesses, with great personal satisfaction.
"And the apocalypse canned," Dean sniffs. His relief is palpable.
"Yup," Sam agrees. "Can't really… Well, everything else will just be…"
There is a long silence. Then Castiel offers quietly: "What do you say when there are no words?"
"When you feel a song that's never been heard?" muses Dean.
"How do you know if you can hear the call?" Sam smiles.
"What do you do when you've done it all?" Dean beams.
"It's not what you do, it's how you do it," Castiel nods wisely. "Be anything you want to be."
"It's not what you got, it's how you use it," Sam agrees.
"You be you and I'll be me - it's just a matter of style. You can't fake it," Dean shrugs.
"Mile after mile, feeling free. If you got the soul you can make it," Sam smiles.
"Move 'em out?" Dean offers.
"Move 'em out," Sam nods.
"Let 'em roll?" Dean asks.
"Let 'em roll," his brother agrees.
Dean grins, going to the car door and unlocking it. Sam is already reaching for the passenger door.
"Where are you going?" Castiel asks, confused.
"We - you, Sam and me - are going to go have fun - the fun we deserve for getting through this," Dean nods. "Lots and lots of fun. And gratuitous amounts of sex. And definitely strong drink."
"What? Where?"
"From sea to shining sea," Dean grins. "Get in the car. We got a Cannonball Run to win."
.
FIN
.
A-ha! You got that, right? I knew you would.
A very big thanks to Ray Stevens and the 1970s, full stop!