They had argued about driving, but in the end Dean gave in because he honestly didn't want to have to listen to Sam's turn-by-turn directions across the U.S. if Sam wasn't going to tell him where they were going.
Instead, Dean settled back in the worn leather of the passenger's seat with his box of mix tapes perched on his lap, working his way through a journey of his own while Sam navigated the web of interstate highways leading them through the central states and well into New Mexico. He started to notice each route seeming less populous and increasingly less traveled than the last.
"Sam," he said, looking over at his brother with the slightest hint of a smug smile. "If you're aiming for Vegas, I think you're a few turns off the mark. Are you lost?"
Sam rolled his eyes at him. "Yeah, you'll thank me for this. Just wait."
Dean shook his head, taking in the sprawling, dusty New Mexico roads that stretched on before them, periodically dotted with a few barns, homes, auto shops, and cafes with weathered, hand-painted signs. "Middle of frigging nowhere," Dean muttered.
Sam smiled. "You're gonna love it."
"I'm not loving it yet. I mean, really man, do you even know me at all? Have I ever loved surprises? Can we just forget this and go have some actual fun instead of spring-something-on-Dean not-fun?"
"Hey!" Sam said, grinning but pretending to be offended. "Trust me on this one, okay? It'll be worth it."
"Worth letting you drive my car five hundred miles out of our way into the middle of the dust bowl for no reason?"
"There's a reason."
"And it's a surprise."
"Yes."
"But you promise I'll like it."
"I swear."
Dean made a face at him. "And you promise it's not weird. Like some pottery fair or folk dance revival?"
Sam mimicked the face he was making, adding a touch more bitch.
His eyes wandered back to the road ahead, and his hand shot out, catching Dean on the shoulder. "Shut your eyes!" he said, excitedly. "Now. Do it!"
Dean pushed Sam's hand off of him in an irritated, good-natured sort of way, snorting a laugh at Sam's expense, but he complied and closed his eyes. "What, Sam? Did you manage to find the world's only nudist colony filled with attractive young girls? Please say yes. If I open my eyes to wrinkled, naked old people, Sam, so help me, I will hit you so hard—"
"Okay, look!"
The car slowed to a stop and first thing Dean saw was a sign above a quaint little café: Pie Town's Daily Pie Café. And then he saw a banner stretching over the street through town proudly declaring "Annual Pie Festival!"
Dean took in the tents lining the street, local vendors setting up tables with plastic table cloths and taping hand-lettered signs to tent-poles declaring the many varieties of homemade pies available. He breathed in and inhaled the scent of fresh-baked pie crust carried on the warm September afternoon.
His eyes widened in disbelief as he looked back at Sam.
"There's a "Pie Town?" It has a "Pie Festival?" Why did I not know about this?" he demanded.
Sam shrugged, grinning. "Good idea, right?"
"This is…"
"Awesome?"
Dean laughed. "You know me so well."