Last Ride by asesina
A/n: oneshot.
Summary: Set during the summer before Sam goes to college. Sam and Dean are in Carson City, Nevada investigating a poltergeist. There is still some tension over Sam's decision to go to school, but the brothers learn to make the best of their time together.
Disclaimer: Kripke owns the boys.
August 6, 2001
Carson City, Nevada
Sam Winchester exhaled slowly and glanced over his shoulder at the mini-mart, watching impatiently for any sign of Dean.
The sweltering Nevada afternoon did nothing to alleviate his impatience. The blazing sunlight seemed to hang over him like a suffocating solar overcoat, and Dean was still in the freakin' mini-mart chatting up some girl he'd never see again.
Sam walked away from the Impala and glanced inside the tiny convenience store.
Sure enough, Dean was leaning on the counter and chatting with the pretty brunette girl behind the counter. He was watching her eat a cherry lollipop, mesmerized by the way she could suck on the candy and still be so damn loquacious.
Sam sighed and pulled open the door to the mini-mart. He was instantly greeted with a dozen and one scents that battled for control of his olfactory nerves.
With a grimace, Sam noted that the most prominent scent was the stale cigar display in the corner.
"Dean," Sam said sharply, nodding towards the Impala.
"We've gotta go," he said quietly, nodding at the cashier in apology as Dean winked at her.
"You've gotta forgive my brother, Daisy. He just doesn't want me to have any fun," Dean drawled as Sam rolled his eyes.
"We don't have any time, man. Dad wanted to meet us by 4," Sam said, eyes pleading with Dean to get the lead out and hit the road again.
"Sure, Sammy. Let me just take care of business," Dean said as he grabbed a pen from the counter and wrote his name on the back of a matchbook.
"Call me," he mouthed, winking at Daisy as they left the air conditioned mini-mart and stepped out into the oven.
"It is freakin' hot," Dean exclaimed, feeling around for his car keys as he approached the Impala.
"No kidding. I was waiting for ten minutes out here, Dean!" Sam said exasperatedly.
"Chill out," Dean shot back, throwing Sam his best John Winchester glare as he opened the driver's side door.
"That's not going to work, Dean," Sam muttered as he climbed into the passenger's side of the Impala.
"What are you talking about, Sammy?" Dean asked. He put the key into the ignition and waited until he heard the engine turn over.
"Telling me what to do. This won't last forever, Dean. In a few months, this'll all be over," he said quietly.
"What, are you talking about college again, geek boy?" Dean asked with a smirk as he backed up the Impala and headed towards their motel in Carson City.
"Yeah, Dean, I am. You and Dad have been telling me what to do for a long time, and I am making my own decision for once. I want this," Sam replied, turning his head away from Dean to look out the window.
"It's too hot to have your window up. Roll it down, Sammy," Dean instructed as he opened his own window.
Sam followed the order wordlessly and cracked the window open an inch.
"You kiddin' me? Now you're not even gonna respond to a simple request just because you want to rebel?" Dean exclaimed, glancing at Sam with annoyance as he pulled onto the town's main thoroughfare.
"Why do you have to interpret everything as either obedience or rebellion, Dean? It's just the car window. I'm not trying to make a point here," Sam said angrily.
"And I'm trying to make a point of not sweating to death, Sammy. Just open the fuckin' window, all right? You know how the air conditioning hasn't been working right in the Impala lately," Dean snapped, gripping the wheel tightly as he squinted into the overpowering brightness of the azure sky.
"Fine," Sam spat, rolling down his window all the way. The warm wind rushed into the car and instantly obliterated any sense of style that his hair once had.
This was going to be a long trip.
They sat in silence for a while before Dean finally turned on the radio.
Most of the stations were tinny bluegrass or warbly jazz.
Dean finally found a station that was in the middle of a three-song block of Metallica hits.
"Finally," he muttered.
The Impala zoomed down the highway as they headed farther and farther west, leaving miles of golden desert and scrubby flora behind them. They were heading away from Carson City.
"Dean, didn't we just pass our motel?" Sam asked suddenly.
He glanced over at Dean when he didn't receive an immediate reply.
"Dean?"
"I know, Sam. I know that we passed the fuckin' motel, all right?" Dean snapped, eyes narrowing as he focused intently on the road.
"What's up with you, Dean? Why are you so on edge?" Sam asked, peering over at his brother with thinly-veiled concern.
"It's nothing, all right? I just don't feel like doing anything. I just have to drive," Dean said tersely, eyes still resolutely serious and focused.
"If you want to postpone the hunt, just tell Dad. We can go after the poltergeist another night, Dean," Sam said quietly, eyes flicking downwards as he tried to find a way to get through to his brother.
"It's not the hunt, all right? It's not Dad, it's not the fucking poltergeist, man," Dean said suddenly. He turned off the radio just as "One" by Metallica was ending.
"What's the matter, then?" Sam asked curiously, fighting back pangs of guilt for initiating the argument earlier.
"Nothing, Sam. Okay? Stop worrying, stop questioning. Just shut up and cut the chick flick crap, all right?" Dean said wearily. His voice had lost its previous edge, but it was replaced with a jaded, wavering tone that worried Sam even more.
"Is it about Stanford, Dean?" Sam asked quietly.
They sat in silence for a few minutes before Dean begrudgingly answered,
"Yeah. It is, Sammy."
Sam swallowed hard and looked down at his beaten up tennis shoes.
"Look, Dean. I know that you and Dad don't want me to do this, but this is my dream. I'm gonna follow this no matter what," Sam said softly.
"I know you will, Sammy. You're trading this shitty life for a perfect one, right?" Dean asked bitterly, hands firmly gripping the wheel.
"I'm not abandoning you and Dad, Dean. I'm doing my own thing. I thought you would encourage a little rebellion," Sam said with a weak grin.
"Joining the glee club at one of the country's top colleges isn't rebelling, Sammy. You're just following someone else's way of living instead of sticking with what you know," Dean said with a frown.
"You can leave this life too, Dean! You don't have to be a refugee for your entire life! You can have a family, a normal job, the whole nine yards," Sam said, silently imploring Dean to give him another chance.
"This is all I've got, Sammy. You and Dad and this job. That's it. If we all go in different directions, we won't have anything left," Dean admitted as his voice dropped to a whisper.
"No, Dean," Sam said suddenly.
"No what, Sammy?" Dean asked in confusion. He raised an eyebrow and looked at Sam with curious eyes.
"This won't end. We might spend some time apart, sure, but it won't stop us from being a family," Sam said with a sad smile.
He noticed that the air had grown a bit cooler and that the sun was dipping a bit in the cobalt sky.
Dean chewed on his bottom lip and mindlessly drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He was deep in thought.
"Sam, I know that you'll make it. I'm not worried about you getting a good job or a normal life. I just—," he faltered, squinting his eyes as he tried to think of a way to describe the emotions that were screaming through his mind at breakneck speeds.
"I'm gonna miss you, Sammy," Dean said, clearing the hoarseness from his throat and blinking back the tears that threatened to fall at any moment.
This would not be a chick flick moment if he could help it.
"Dean," Sam said quietly, mulling over the depth of his brother's admission.
"Thanks," he finally said, grinning over at his big brother.
"Don't mention it. Seriously, if you ever tell anyone how fuckin' cheesy I was, I'll kill you. They'll never even find the body," Dean said with a grin.
Sam chuckled and leaned his arm on the window sill as he stared up at the sky.
"We're probably thirty minutes away from Carlson City by now," Sam mused out loud.
"Yeah, I know. You don't have much time to be free, Sammy. Let's just keep driving," Dean said with a smile as he turned the radio back on.
"Can I pick the station this time?" Sam asked as he adjusted the radio dial.
"Hell no! Do you think I've gone soft, Sammy? The driver still picks the music," Dean said with a laugh as he turned on a station that just happened to be playing Led Zeppelin.
"And shotgun shuts his cakehole, right?" Sam said with a grin as he looked over at Dean.
He noticed the lines around Dean's eyes and smile. His brother definitely wouldn't take this well, but college wasn't starting just yet.
Sam swore to himself that he would make the most of these last days, even if most of them were spent on a road with no destination.
End.