Author's note: So I absolute loved the scene where Dean mouths along to All out of Love by Air Supply. Since I haven't found any fics already written that mention the scene, I figured I'd go ahead and write myself a nice little ficlet :) hope you enjoy.
Dean opened the trunk, the piss poor excuse of a car yielded only basic weapons, his duffle bag and that weird yellow pony with wings. Letting the air escape from his lungs he glared at the offending toy, it felt important to him and kept it as irrational as it seemed. Lifting his overnight bag onto his shoulder, he gave the pony one more look as the trunk closed making a grating sound, man he missed his baby. He headed to the motel that offered a cheap stay and crappy beds, it was just a mile or so down the road from where Sam had stormed off. Dean not wanting to go far in case the hunter changed his mind and came back. He wanted to sleep right out there in the car, if you could really call it that, but this motel was better than the clunker behind him.
He got a room, plopped his bag on one of the chairs, so begrudgingly upset about the shit storm called his life distracted him from asking for a single. He fell face first into the mattress closes to him. It smelled funny. Another sigh sneaked it's way out of his chest as he turned his head to look at the empty bed to his right. What jolted him the most was the fact Cas came to him mind in the absents of his brother. He seems to have lost it all, Cas, the impala and now Sam. The song that came on the radio had not helped him feel any better. Some time passed as he stared at the wall Dean found himself wishing he'd had the sense to bring the trench coat with him. Sam didn't know Dean used the coat on sleepless a night which now a days were more frequent than not. At this moment he didn't care if Sam had seen him bring it, he'd of taken the pitying look. He was possibly the most exhausted he'd ever been but sleeping was another feat all together. That song looped in his head, the moments playing themselves as he eyes refused to stay closed.
Finally groaning at the work of lifting himself up, he trudged out to the car still fully dressed. Crisp night air flooded him as he moved towards the vehicle. Opening the complaining hinges he looked around for that stupid pony, finding his target he picked it up with more gentleness than was necessary. Looking at it he found his hands drawn to the base of the crappy plastic wings glued to the toy's back, he felt like such a sap and for a moment was glad Sam wasn't here to see him sniffle as he began to walk back to his room. Pony protectively placed in his shirt pocket, hand never leaving it.
"Son of a bitch."