"This isn't how I wanted to spend your birthday." Sam said.
"Humor me."
They were in the Impala in a foggy early morning, outside the closed gates of a cemetery.
Sam hmpf'd to himself and sipped his coffee.
"So, thirty-five," he said. "You're getting pretty old there."
"Old?" Dean said. "For a hunter, thirty-five is ancient." He took two of the last four donut holes and offered the box to Sam, who shook his head. "Thirty-five is Methuselah."
"I remember when Dad turned thirty-five," Sam said. "I was still in Kindergarten. I thought he could keel over dead at minute he was so old. But you think about it…" His eyes turned to the cemetery and the headstones becoming visible in the thinning mist. "He was young, he was so young when all this started."
Dean didn't answer that. He offered Sam the two donut holes again and Sam took one and ate it. The cemetery caretaker drove up in his truck, opened the gates and drove into the cemetery. Dean put the key in the ignition but didn't turn on the car.
"We don't have to do this, Sam. Not if you don't want to. I just thought – since we were in the neighborhood…"
Sam turned away, blinking rapidly, but he laughed.
"Yeah, Reno is 'in the neighborhood'. Two hundred and fifty miles is 'in the neighborhood.'"
He didn't turn back and Dean pulled the key out of the ignition.
"I just - just because it's my birthday doesn't mean you can't, or that you shouldn't – "
He broke off there. He turned the car on and drove slowly into the cemetery and Sam didn't protest. It was a big cemetery, but Dean knew where he was headed, and soon they were pulled off to the side of the narrow road.
Sam made no move, so Dean opened the car door and got out.
"We don't have to stay long. Then this afternoon we can celebrate my birthday any way you want to."
Sam nodded and got out and followed Dean to the grave.
"Hey, Jess…Happy Birthday."
The End