Some nights, there was no station that came in except the religious people, talking about a god that John nor his son Dean could identify with, Sammy slept peacefully in the back as John would pull over and Dean would climb up, sleepily to sit next to his father. And some nights they would sit in silence, Dean nodding off occasionally. Some nights either one would chatter aimlessly, Dean forcing himself to stay awake to help his father pass the long distance of the western highways.
Some nights they could get a local college radio station and listen to the college kids, up late, complaining about the administration because at 3 in the morning no one was listening to censor the airwaves anyhow. Dean asked questions of his father, asking what exactly a "transvestite" was and why the dean not allowing one to go to class. The first time one of those questions was asked John had hurried to turn off the radio and Dean had sat back, worried that he had asked something forbidden, like where mom was, or when they were going home. John had realized his mistake seconds after making it and had calmly taken a breath and decided to answer his 9 year old son like he was older. Dean learned about genocide, racism, gay rights, and modern politics as they drove through desserts and he figured he learned more at nights in the car then he did in school during the day.
The best nights though, were when the oldies radio stations came through, and John would sing in his low voice along with the words to songs he knew by heart. When Dean would listen, looking up at his father, the only time he allowed himself to idolize his father was those times. For some reason listening to his dad doing something so normal was amazing. Most of the time he didn't understand the lyrics, but he didn't ask any questions about it, wasn't worth the trouble. One song inparticular got his attention as not being right but he couldn't place it. And his dad was so relaxed whenever it came on, singing almost loud enough to wake Sam. So Dean just sang along.
Sammy didn't know what he missed on the late night portions of driving. He preferred the sioghts of things going by, and stared at them out the windows during the day. Dreaming that he was in one of those normal lives he saw.
-18 years later-
Sam grumbled on a late night drive as he pushed the buttons on the radio, trying his hardest to find music. Dean was holding onto the wheel of the Impala as if his life depended on it. A familiar song came on and Dean put his hand up to signal Sam to stop.
"Bob or Ann" Dean sang half heartedly, relaxing into the seat slightly mumbling the words.
"Dean, that isn't the song."
"Huh?"
"Its not Bob or Ann… Its Barbra Ann"
Dean paused and looked over at his brother. He'd always known the lyrics didn't sound right.
"You sure."
"Jess was obsessed with the beach boys" Sam said. "She sang this song while doing dishes"
Dean nodded slowly, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration "Huh. Makes more sense."
"You thought…"
Dean shrugged "I mean…" He blushed lightly "It makes sense… I just thought the guy didn't know if he wanted Bob or Ann"
Sam laughed, and for a second, Dean was reminded of his Father's booming laugh, when he'd said asked question after question in the safety of the late night talk radio. And suddenly Dean laughed too.
Author's notes: Okay so I was 19 when I picked up a friend's copy of Beach Boys greatest hits… and was like "Wait! Barbra ann?" Yeah…So I thought it would be cute if Dean was the same way. Its also based off of the feeling of being a little kid in the car and wanting to stay up with you dad… because it's the only time you really have with them.
Disclaimer: Kripkie 1 me 0