Note: It helps if you've heard the song More than a Feeling by Boston. Even if you don't like the fic, check it out. It's pretty great.

"Come on, no touching the radio." Dean batted Sam's hand away and shot him a look. "We have a rule."

Sam reciprocated by smacking Dean's arm and changing the station while his brother was too busy thumping him back. The beginnings of Boston's 'More than a Feeling' drifted through the car and he slouched in his seat.

"It's a stupid rule," Sam retorted.

"You're stupid." Dean dropped his hand back on the steering wheel. "Bitch."

Sam snorted. "Jerk."

The silence that followed was filled with the opening lyrics of the song and Dean's fingers tapped and strummed in turn. It'd been a while since he'd even gone near the band, but the song wasn't bad. It reminded him of blonde hair and brown eyes and pink cheeks colored by the sun.

Jo's head poked out of the backseat and her hand darted forward to raise the volume. "I love this song."

"Boston sucks," Dean informed her.

"I still love this song," Jo insisted, dropping back into her seat while belting out the words. "So many people have come and gone, their faces fade as the years go by..."

Dean sighed and flexed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Great," he grumbled.

Jo rolled her eyes. "Don't be such a downer, Winchester. It's just a song."

"From a band I hate and in my car," Dean retorted, but his fingers began to tap a rhythm on the steering wheel anyway. Sam laughed beside him.

"Oh you too?" Dean prompted just as the guitar interlude lead into the chorus.

Sam turned in his seat and Jo sat up to join him, both staring straight at him as they begun to sing in unison. "It's more than a feeling."

"More than a feeling," Jo sang out, eyes closed and fist pressed to her chest.

"When I hear that old song they used to play!"

"More than a feeling!"

Sam turned to look at Jo. "I begin dreaming."

"More than a feeling!"

"'Till I see Marianne walk away!" Dean winced when Jo's high-pitched excuse for a singing voice reached an uncomfortably high note.

"Alright, you've made your point," he talked over the music. "We can listen to the damn song."

Jo whooped and sat back with a laugh that had Dean's eyes peeking at the rearview mirror to catch a glimpse. With her hair fanned out across the back of her seat and her eyes closed, he couldn't help thinking she looked like every good thing he'd been missing out on while he and Sam had been on the road. His lips twisted into a small smile that turned into a full on laugh when Jo kept on singing.

"When I'm tired and thinking cold. I hide in my music, forget the day. And dream of a girl I used to know." Her smile widened, her brow furrowed and she tilted her head back to screech out the next line. "I closed my eyes and she slipped away!"

"Dean?"

Sam's voice was so faint that Dean thought he hadn't spoken altogether but then it came again.

"Dean."

"What?" Dean blinked his eyes and snuck a peak at the back seat. Empty, as it usually was since Jo and Ellen passed away. He cleared his throat and glanced at Sam. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, man, you were just..." Sam exhaled a laugh when Dean looked at him and shook his head. "Nothing. Never mind." He reached for the radio. "Want me to change the station?"

"No," Dean answered quickly. "No, it's fine. Leave it." He met Sam's eyes when he raised his brows. "It's not that bad," he said with a shrug. "I like it."

"Right," Sam replied slowly. "Okay then."

The song continued on the radio as the glossy black Impala sped down the road, filled to the brim with memories like ghosts Dean couldn't salt and burn away. On most days it felt dark and haunted, but sometimes—well sometimes he could hear a laugh and see the turn of a blonde head to hide a pink-lipped smile and it felt like the sun was burning away the shadows.

It's more than a feeling, when I hear that old song they used to play.