John had told Dean that he wouldn't pay for his son's first car: Dean had to earn it himself. Once he knew this, Dean had been saving his money since he was fourteen. As soon as Bobby thought he was old enough to start being paid for his work at the garage, Dean started taking double shifts and even got a second job at the local fast food store, just to get the cash quicker.

Needless to say, when the oldest Winchester son found an ad in the newspaper for a Chevy for sale -fairly cheap, too- Dean was excited. He showed John the ad and counted his money three times, just to be sure he had enough.

"So, can I get it?" Dean asked, trying not to look too anxious, but failing miserably.

John glanced at Mary, who was smiling warmly at her son's hopeful smile. "If you got enough." He said, handing the newspaper with the ad circled on it back to Dean. "Call them up and see if they still have it."

Dean's smile widened; he gave his mother a hug and shook his father's hand, "Thank you! I'll call them now!" He pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open as he walked out of the house. He sat on the porch swing. Sam and Jess were walking up to the porch as he sat down.

"Who are you calling?" Sam asked as he held the door open for his friend. "Benny?"

Dean checked the number the dialed, comparing it to the number in the ad, "Nah, I'm getting me a car."

"Cool!" Sam said excitedly, "Can you take me places when you get it?"

"No." Dean replied immediately.

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam walked inside, jogging a bit to catch up to Jessica. Dean took a deep breath, hoping they still had the car, and pushed the call button. His fingers played with the edges of the newspaper nervously as the phone rings.

"Sup." The male's voice on the other end said when they pick up.

Dean straightened his back, even though they can't see him. "Hello. I, uh, was wondering about if you still have that car for sale?" He mentally cringed at how awkward he sounds.

There was a slight pause then Dean heard the voice say, further away this time, "Michael! Someone's calling about that Chevy."

The Winchester licked his lips as he waited, there's some muffled shuffling for a moment, and then another guy, said into the phone, "This is Michael Novak. Are you considering buying the car?"

"Yup. Yes." Dean said quickly, as if his delay would make Michael hang up or something. "Do you still have it?"

He heard a slight sigh, "Unfortunately."

Dean shuffled slightly on the swing as he said, "Um, what year is it?"

Michael paused, then says, "I don't know. It's not my car. …It was my brother's." Then he snorted and said, "Heavens, I don't even know if it works."

Dean's not deterred so easily, "That's okay. I can fix it up." And if he can't, Bobby can.

"How about you come by tomorrow, around 6, and you can come check it out." Michael said, and Dean could hear some yelling in the background. Michael made some kind of growling noise and muttered, "Dammit, Lucifer." Before Dean had time to say anything else, Michael said a quick, "I'll see you tomorrow." and hung up.

John decided to drive one of Bobby's tow trucks, in case this car Dean has his heart set on ends up being a piece of junk. His son can't stop the hopeful excitement in his eyes. Dean's excitement flowed out of him with every move he made. When a song with a nice beat came on the radio, Dean drummed his fingers on the truck's dash; in an attempt to do something with his gitters.

The teen sat up straighter once John pulled down a long, dirt drive way. Two guys, slightly older than Dean, were running around the front yard, screaming at each other.

"Raphael, I swear to God, I'm going to kill you!"

"Don't swear, Gabe. It's not very lady-like."

"Give me back my ice cream!"

"You've had enough for today!"

"YOU'RE ADOPTED!"

The Winchesters watched from the truck as the brothers fought over the melting ice cream bar in the taller guy's hand. The two were so focused on their small slap fight that they didn't notice a third guy, older than both, stroll up to them. The third cocked his head, watching their fight, and calmly plucked the ice cream from Raphael's hand.

The two fighting froze as the third finished off the ice cream bar with one bite. Raphael pushed away from Gabe, apparently satisfied with this turn of events. He brushed off his hands and headed towards the Winchesters, who still haven't left their truck just yet.

John rolled down the window as Raphael approached, "I apologize about that. I assume you're the Winchesters?"

"Guilty." Dean says, smiling in amusement at the brothers in the background, who are still bickering. This group puts the 'fun' in 'dysfunctional'. "We're here for the car."

Raphael's polite expression falls slightly, something flashes in his eyes that Dean can't quiet name. He nods stiffly and says, "That's all on Michael. I'll get him for you." He turns, his movements practiced, as he walks into the house.

"That's a military walk." John grunts, climbing out of the truck.

Dean climbs out after him, interested, "Think he served?"

"Probably. He'd be young, though. Actually, just by guessing, all four of them could've served." John leans against the truck, looking over the farm house. It's small and old. White paint chipping off the sides of the house, and wood in the porch stuck up at odd angles from nails coming loose. "Let's hope this car is in better condition than this house."

Dean's eyes trailed over the quaint home. Sure, it's not as nice as Dean's neighborhood, but it has something built into it with every imperfection. Something born from constant use. This place could have been repaired multiple times, but the creaky steps just make it seem more alive. "I dunno. I like it."

"It's the family ranch. Novaks have lived here since it was built." Said a new man, the oldest of them all, it looks. He holds out his hand to John, "Hi, I'm Michael Novak. I talked to you on the phone?"

"John Winchester. This is my son, Dean. He's the one paying for this thing, so be talking to him." John says, stepping back and pushing Dean forward with a hand to his back.

"Oh." Michael looked surprised, but quickly shook Dean's hand and gestured to a big red building down the yard. "It's in the barn."

Dean noticed that as they walked towards the barn, the short boy from earlier tagged along. What was his name? Gabe, right?

Gabe and Michael were quiet as they walk; stiff and almost hesitant with each step. Dean suddenly had the feeling that there might be something wrong here.

Together the brothers open the large doors to the barn. Michael steps in, gesturing for Dean and John to come with him. Gabe hung back, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a steely expression on his face.

The barn is littered with random rusting tools. A tractor sits in the back corner, the sides of the barn are piled high with random crap. But the center of the barn is completely clear, apart from the car-shaped object sitting under a sheet. The brothers obviously moved everything out of the way to make room for the car.

"Here it is." Michael muttered, pulling the sheet off the vehicle.

Dean's jaw dropped. The car was absolutely beautiful. It was black and sleek; shiny but not new. "What year is it?"

"Hell if I know." Michael glanced at Gabe, who shrugged. "To be honest, I don't even know if it runs."

John gave Dean a pointed look, one that said, 'If you waste your money on this junk, I swear…' But he said simply, "It's a '67 Chevy Impala."

Dean didn't care if it didn't run. He and Uncle Bobby could fix it up; easy. He needed it. The black Chevy called to him. Dean needed to know what if felt like to drive it.

"I'll take it!" Dean said, his smile wide. Gabe made a disapproving noise from the front of the barn, causing them all to turn and look at him. He was glaring at Michael, who didn't seem fazed at all.

"You shouldn't sell his car." Gabe hissed. "He would've wanted us to keep it."

"Gabriel…" Michael sighed. This was obviously an argument they've had multiple times. "Would you like to drive it?"

Gabe can't even look at the car. He glanced down and muttered a quiet, "It's not right."

"Dean will take care of it." Michael glanced at the teen, who nodded enthusiastically, "If it were here, it'd just rust. He wouldn't want that."

Gabe just shook his head and stormed back to the house.

Michael sighed and mumbled a quiet, "I apologize for that. This has been… emotional for all of us."

Dean stepped forward and handed Michael the money. "I promise, I'll take good care of the Impala."

Michael gave a strained smile and handed Dean the keys. "See if it works."

Trying not to look too excited, knowing how much this car means to the Novaks, Dean scrambled into the front seat. The seats were leather. How cool is that?! Dean closed the door and put the key in the ignition. He paused for a moment, glancing up at John and Michael, then he turned the key.

The engine roared to life, in perfect condition. Dean grinned wildly as he rolled down the window and asked, "Can I drive it home?" to John.

To Dean's surprise, his dad actually smiled as he said, "Yeah, try her out!"

Michael and John stepped out of the way as Dean slowly pulled out of the barn and drove down the gravel road. The three other brothers watched him solemnly as he passed. From their expressions, he knew that he would have to take care of this car. He was always going to; he's been waiting to get his first car since forever. But seeing them kinda hammered the nail into the wood.

Dean drove around aimlessly, not wanting to go home yet. He loved the sound the engine made; it purred, happy to be being used again. Dean fiddled with the radio. Some of the buttons didn't work quiet right, and the volume was stuck at 12. But that was alright. Dean already loved the car because it was his.

He glanced at the passenger seat and he almost swerved off the road. He did a double-take, but no… that's odd.

He could've sworn someone was sitting there just a second ago…

When Dean finally pulled into his driveway, his mother came out to look at the car.

"Oh, sweetie!" She smiled, looking into the car through the open window. "It's beautiful!"

"She is." Dean agreed, glancing at the back seat through the rearview mirror. "And she's all mine!"

"Now you can go to the store for me when we run out of milk." Mary smiled.

Dean pouted but agreed nonetheless.

After a second, Mary asked, "Have you already checked if there's any trash in the trunk and glove box?"

"No, I haven't. Will you look in the trunk?" Dean asked, turning off the car. He unbuckled and slid over to the passenger seat, right in front of the glove box. Mary went to the trunk to see if there was anything in it. Dean opened the glove box and found it surprisingly empty, apart from one piece of paper. He figured it was a registration form, but when he picked it up and looked at it, he was surprised to discover that it was a hand written note.

He read it over, the smooth cursive hand writing easy to read. When he finished, he sat there in shocked silence, not knowing how to feel or what to do.

Mary came back to the passenger side window and said, "There was only a- Honey? Are you okay?"

As a way of answering, Dean handed Mary the note.

4/1/1968

My name is Private Castiel Novak, and if you're reading this, I never made it home.

But for every dream that shatters, another one comes true. This car was once a dream of mine, and now it belongs to you. She's my baby, and I hope you treat her right. She will always be a part of me, just as I hope she'll become a part of you. I do believe my older brothers made the right choice in picking the owner of this car.

Though you may take her, and make her your own, you'll always be riding with Private Novak.

-Castiel

Mary put her hand over her mouth in shock. She shakily handed Dean back the note. "Oh, God." She whispered, "He was a solider."

"Mom. He said his older brothers." Dean said, his voice small. "The youngest one there was just a year or two older than me." Dean looked up at his mother, eyes wide, "Mom he was my age."

Mary shook her head, not wanting to think about her son being drafted. That was a terrible war; it never should've happened. Too many good people died in it. Too many Castiels never came back.

"You take care of this car, you hear?" She said, her voice full of emotion.

"I will." Dean promised quietly, staring down at the note.

"Here." Mary said, holding up a tattered tan trench coat. "This was in the trunk. Call the Novaks tomorrow and see if they want it back."
Dean nodded, taking the trench coat. Mary left after a few moments, but Dean sat out there in the car for God knows how long. He stared at the note, sitting on the folded trench coat in his lap.

"I promise, Cas. I'll take care of your baby." He mumbled quietly, his fingers playing with the fabric of the trench coat.

And he did.

The Novaks didn't want the trench coat back. Saying they wouldn't know what to do with it. No one would wear it for the same reason why no one would drive the Impala; it reminded them too much of their little brother.

So Dean kept the coat neatly folded in the back seat. He would glance back at it sometimes while he was driving. He liked it being there. It made the car feel slightly less empty.

Tell me what you think!