He was missing Dean more than usual today. Sam took the cover off of the Impala. He hasn't been able to look at it since Dean died. He knew though that if he didn't drive her he wouldn't feel his brother anymore. Nothing felt like Dean. Not pictures, not his grave, not Bobby's, not the bunker. Nothing. Nothing but that Black 1967 Chevy Impala that his brother was so fond of. His baby. Sam had to wipe his eyes. "You'd probably tell me to stop being such a wuss, that we didn't need anymore chick flick moments," he chuckled. Sam opened the driver's door and got into the car for what felt like the first time in a lifetime. He cranked her up and started driving down the road. One of Dean's tapes was still in the player, Sam turned it up as loud as it would go and rolled down the window, pushing 90 mph. Sam turned off the main road onto a dirt road he saw. Dean would have killed him if he had gotten his baby dirty. Now Sam was leaving dust in the air behind him as he pushed her as fast as she'd go, blaring AC/DC. Before he knew it, he was slamming on the brakes. Sam put the car into park and started sobbing into the steering wheel. "I just miss you so much Dean."