It was a very early Sunday morning that Dean rolled into the parking lot of another crappy roadhouse in another crappy small town in another crappy state. The Impala sizzled, steamed and came to a gruesome halt. Dean gazed upon the smoke slipping through the lines of the hood as it seeped out from the engine. Poor Baby, she took a lot of damage in the final hours, the blood on Dean's person starting to stain her perfect leather interior, the dented sides, and Dean's sure the alternator and brakes are shot. It didn't help Dean hadn't stopped running either. He drove for two days and two night's non-stop, not knowing exactly where he was headed. Because this time, there was nowhere to go anymore.

It was over. Hell was closed, Heaven was secure, people were safe and Sam… Sam was…

"Go Dean…" His mouth full of blood, still charming, still caring, still fucking Sammy. "Dean, don't… Don't stop living."

"No Sam... No! Sammy! Sammy! SAMMY!"

Dean's knuckles turned white on the steering wheel as he shook himself. He looked over to the empty passenger seat. It would no longer be full. There would be no passenger in the shot gun seat anymore.

"Driver picks the music; Shot gun shuts his cake hole!"

"Whatever dude."

There would be no whiny veggie lover for Dean to make faces at. There would be no laptop privileges or rules for Dean to break to get a ruse out of the laptops owner. There would be no reprimand for Dean when picking up a Susie, Donna, Carly, or Raven and locking the other beds tenant out of the room for the night. There was nothing left to do and there was no way to go back. No deal to make, no monster to kill, no Death to plead… Dean didn't know what else to do. He couldn't do anything else. There was nothing left.

Nothing left but Dean…

"I'm going to kick your ass!" The random bar patron punched Dean hard on his cheek bone, knocking him on his back in the muddy gravel of the random roadhouse parking lot. Dean, drunk on a very lengthy bar tab of whiskey, gin, vodka, and whatever else he could romance out of the bartender (Marcy was her name, but then again, she could've been a Roger for all Dean could remember) took his time getting up, waiting for the angry truckers next punch to the liver that sent him back to the ground in a heap. Dean felt his stomach tighten and knot. Knowing where those feelings led, Dean turned quickly to hurl the alcohol that he bucketed into his system earlier in the evening. There was a slight crowd now, two of the truckers friends stumbled outside to watch the show. Maybe Dean shouldn't have picked a fight, but he didn't care. Or more like he forgot that he didn't have back up this time.

"You're gonna be sorry you ever walked into this bar, pretty boy." Dean's eye and cheek stung something awful and his mouth tasted of blood and vomit. His mind wandered absently what kind of a look this guy would have once he laid eyes on S-… Oh right. Dean was alone.

Of all people, why him? Why was he the one to survive? Was this some awful form of punishment? It had to be. There was no way living… living like this was supposed to be some kind of reward.

"I am sorry." Dean mumbled before he was violently yanked up by the trucker.

"What was that son? I didn't quite hear you." The unnamed man didn't wait for an answer as he punched Dean again in the jaw. Dean saw spots this time. He knew he was in the red, but the words just spilled from his spilt lip.

"I am sorry… I'm so sorry Sammy… Please… Come back…" Memories of the years flooded through Dean's mind. It was the worst kind of feeling. It was the empty, tight void that sucked Dean whole. He laid there on the gravel in the parking lot folding into himself from the pain and injuries he took.

"Live. Dean… Live. Please."

"No… Why? I'm so sorry…" He didn't realize how far gone he was until he felt hands on his face.

FxL

"Dean, since when do I forget the pie?" Sam's face shifted from his signature "bitch face" to his familiar smirk when Dean turned his head from the couch to face his baby brother with mock accusation on his features. Sam broke first into a grin as he turned and grabbed Baby's keys and walked out of the motel room. Dean had a light mood about him as he turned back to the TV and laughed to himself. He finally trusted Sam with his car, now Dean could relax those couple minutes and send Sam on the trivial duties. Though, pie was no trivial manner…

What was Sam doing? Revving Baby to impress the ladies?

The room was dark as Dean vaguely heard the familiar rev of Baby's engine echo in his mind. Dean stirred lightly on the creaky mattress, sleep trying to lull him back to unconsciousness. When he heard Baby's engine loud and clear the second rev, that's when Dean realized that the roar of the engine wasn't something his mind dreamt. Dean scrambled out of a bed he didn't know how he got into and ran through the room. Part of him still asleep and wanting to see the familiar face hoped everything was all a dream. He ran into what he realized was the kitchen to the roadhouse he stopped at last night. He paused and looked outside the window to see behind the roadhouse was a full on garage and currently parked just outside said garage was his car. The hood was open and the engine was a smooth purr. Maybe… Just maybe it could be? No… no. Who would dare touch his Baby?! He yanked the screen door open and stomped over to the Impala. He could see two booted feet and a body hovering over the engine. Dean quickened his pace when he heard the clanking of metal and a quiet "shit" coming from underneath the hood.

"Hey!" A warning yell as Dean got closer. "Hey!" Dean yelled again as he saw hands making a grab to lower the hood. He could hear the radio in the background now over the sound of the Impala, some hippy, modern crap that Dean so desperately wanted to complain about. He was blinded temporarily when the sun caught Baby's hood and bounced off a glare into Dean's eyes. He tried to see past the spots in his view. The hood was closed and there was a figure looking back at him. Tall, with a mop head of hair that closely resembled a face he would do anything to see once more. Was it? No…

"Sam?" Dean barely spoke out to the figure. He blinked a couple of times and the mystery repair crew came into complete focus.

She was probably in her early twenties, if that. She had an oversized, dirtied plaid shirt with equally dirty jeans. Her hair was up in a small pony tail (her hair wasn't long enough to pull up to begin with) and she looked tough. For a split second Dean thought of Jo, but this girl was much different. She was tall, lightly tanned skin, and golden brown hair. Her eyes were a blue/green shade, familiar, welcoming… Almost like…

"What the hell are you doing to my car kid?" Dean croaked out. The girl wiped off the sweat off her brow and took out a dirty cloth to wipe her wrench.

"Fixin' it." She replied lightly, turning to throw her wrench back in the tool box. "Your alternator was pretty shot ta all get out, your brakes were worn to hell and I don't even want to know how you got transmission fluid and oil everywhere but the places it needs ta be." She wiped off her hands on a dirty rag. "And don't get me started on the black goo on the side panels and the dent on the passenger side. I don't know what it was and I don't wanna know. But that took forever to get off." She moved with a determined stride, sizing up Dean as she neared him.

"I figured since I couldn't fix your face, I could at least fix your ride." She walked around past Dean to the driver's side of the Impala. She turned the key to cut the engine and climbed back out. "Ernie is a big bag of dicks. I should've known what he was doin' wit ya outside. As the owner of the place, I apologize. Here's your keys." She dangled the set in front of him. He gave her a hard stare as he took the keys and shoved them in his back pocket while leaning into Baby and popping the hood again. The girl huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

"What? Don't trust a girl to do better at a job then a man?"

"Don't trust anyone." Dean retorted as he inspected the engine.

"…I can get respect that."

"What, boyfriend dumped you?"

"Looks like yours did."

"So Daddy issues."

"You could just say thank you."

"Not going to. You forgot to tune a carb." He pulled the keys out from his pocket and threw them at the girl. "Turn the car on."

The girl did as she was told, and Baby started without hesitation. Dean heard the door creak open and the girl's boots hit the gravel. She walked over as Dean shuffled around to let her see.

"You hear that?" He watched the kid lean a bit forward to listen to the engine.

"The rattle?"

"Yeah, it's an out of tune carb…

"All right, see this thing? It's a valve cover. Inside are all the parts that are on the head. Hand me that socket wrench. With me so far?" Dean raised a brow looking over to his younger brother.

"Yeah, uh, valve cover covers the heads." Sam replied, making sure to commit these teachings to memory.

"Very good. This is your intake manifold, and on top of it?"

"The carburetor." The girl replied. There was a hint of realization on her breath as she placed her hands on her hips in defeat. Her answer was confident in essence, which stung deep in Deans chest. Sam never needed to know these things in the long run. Did Dean know this deep down? Did he know that it was going to be him who remained?

"There…" Dean stood gazing at the engine, missing him more than ever. The girl came back around and Dean shook down more feelings as he slammed the hood down.

"You want me to fix the rattle in the vents? I ain't got a problem doin more-"

"No."

"I bet it must be annoyin though, so why don't I-"

"I said No!" Dean snarled at her. The girl raised her hands up in the air.

"Alright! Shit dude! I was just tryin' ta help. You don't need to get all upset with me." She walked past Dean and grabbed her tool box. "You don't gotta act like everyone's out to get you, ya know. No one can do it all on their own." The girl continued to grumble as she put away her tool box in the shed. Dean lowered the hood and slammed it shut. He caught himself staring at the passenger seat.

"You alright?" Dean jumped at the sound of the girl's voice. He turned towards her and nodded. She studied Dean's face then. He wouldn't know what she thought in those few moments but her face softened and her tough girl demeanor lessened. She looked at Dean with sad eyes and turned to go back into the garage.

"Sir, despite the obvious shiner and the general sense of tired on your face… You look about ready." She called back from the back of the garage.

"Ready for what?" Dean looked peeked into the garage some and saw the girl reemerge with a huge hunk of metal attached to her hip.

"To run." She said flatly. "I'll take you to the interstate, I really have no idea how you got here in the first place. You musta really been lost."

On any given weekday Dean would gawk in its chrome finished beauty, however there was really no room for any emotion in his heart to appreciate the fine piece of bike the girl had. Though Dean claims he's completely American made, the girls Kawasaki 71 was something to be had.

"1973?" Dean asked as he admired the view while she jogged back to grab her helmet.

"72." She called back. "My dad left it when he decided gambling was a better hobby than a brain dead wife and a not-son."

"You've been fixing your dads messes a long time?" Dean turned to walk to the Impala ready to get in.

"Fixing and surviving. All I have is this and the bar." The girl walked to the back driver side of Baby and stuck something in through the window and on the back seat.

"What's that?"

"Nourishment." She turned on her heel refusing to give Dean a rebuttal. "Don't tell me you don't need it cause you will eventually at your drinking rate." The girl swung her leg over on the side of her bike as Dean climbed into the Impala. The girl started her engine and Dean followed suit. She moved a little towards Dean's window before putting her helmet on.

"Ya know. You have a really good ride here. She's beautiful. My Dad was a mechanic, the best around these parts. He would've loved to have seen her." She mentioned. Dean could see her inner battle of the dutiful daughter and the lost soul. The nights she probably spent burning and hurting herself trying to fix something on the stove for herself, the days she sat and stared down the hospital bills later would be legal documents and assets, and all the time she was alone just trying to figure out why. How could he have not seen this before? It was a reflection. His.

"You want to know what I confessed in there? What my greatest sin was? It was how many times I let you down. I can't do that again." Sam shook to the core and his words shook Dean. Was it so obvious? Was it so easy to tell? Their relationship, their ties, all strained and frayed. Was this, was Sam's unwillingness to live caused by Dean? No…

"Sam-"

"What happens when you've decided I can't be trusted again? I mean, who are you gonna turn to next time instead of me? Another angel, another - another vampire? Do you have any idea what it feels like to watch your brother just –"

"Dean… How do I stop?"

"Well his loss then." Dean swallowed.

"My gain." She smiled sadly at him. "Cars… they work well. It's a machine. It breaks, it gets fixed. No strings, no reasons or worries or stupid explanations or exceptions. If something goes wrong, it just does. If you fix it, and it works again. It's simple. It just keeps running until you can't fix it anymore." She rubbed her bike fondly. "It works just as hard as you do. You rely on it and it relies on you. No complications, no excuses, no nothing… just the road ahead and the road so far." They sat in silence, lost in their memories. Dean being more haunted than anything. The girl put on her helmet and gestured to follow her. After turning baby around, he followed.

FxL

Dean was frantic. They were about 20 minutes into the trip to the interstate when it began. The rattle of the legos in the AC bothered him to no end. It was a sterile reminder of the past that cannot be relived, that he was alone again. He shut the AC off in an angry switch of the control panel.

"When is it gonna be over for us Dean? When?"

"I don't know Sammy!" Dean was furious. "What do you want me to tell you? Tomorrow? Next Sunday? Just in time for Christmas?"

"It never will stop… Will it?"

Truth be told Dean just didn't want to give an answer if it wasn't one that Sam could rely on… How could he have been so blind? Sam was looking for a shoulder to lie on, and Dean couldn't give him that. Maybe he was too afraid; maybe he couldn't bare both his and Sam's burden alone. He didn't know, but he always regretted that argument. Probably, no… definitely always will.

"Dean there's too many of them!"

"Hold on Sammy!" Dean roared charging over to Sam when the demons attacked.

Dean shook his head, trying to rid himself of the memories that flooded his brain. The cassette tape in his radio changed. The soft hymns of "Knocking on Heaven's Door" play softly and Dean was beside himself. He turned that off too.

"What was I supposed to do Sammy?" Dean chokes out a sob as he hits the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. "What was I supposed to do?!"

"Dean… promise… Promise me you're gonna smile again." The blood started to come up to his mouth, staining his teeth red as Dean held him tight and his own wounds forgotten.

"You're gonna be okay Sammy, we're gonna get you help!"

"No Dean… No going back this time…"

"You're supposed to be here!" Dean lets a tear fall down. "There ain't no me without you…"

"Dean! Dude! You ate the pie! What the hell?!"

"Dean! This is an investigation! You can't hit on the witness!"

"So having a soul means suffering?"

"I've looked up to you since I was 5 years old Dean."

"Really Dean?"

"Dean where's my laptop?!"

"It's called vegetables Dean."

"Dean?"

"Dean."

"Dean!"

"Dean…" That smile, that face. It was all Dean knew for his entire life. His little burden, his baby brother, his Sammy.

"Please." He choked out… "Please Dean…Don't forget to live."

Dean slammed on the brakes and drove to the side of the road. Dean had sweat on his brow and he shivered all over. He could blame it on the hangover but he knew what it was.

He was afraid.

Sam had wiped the slate clean all in the name of his brother but Dean just couldn't take the step forward. He couldn't move on. How could Sam have asked him to do this? Burdened him with this? Sam was everything, and for everything to say "live". Well, what in God's name did that mean?

"What do I do?" Dean looked up and caught something in the rearview. It was the little green army man stuck in the ashtray in the back seat. Right then in that instant, a moment of clarity struck.

"Please Dean."

Throughout all the pain, blood, torture, death, and monsters rounding every corner, Dean had never truly experienced what it was like to be, well… him. Even his time with Lisa was on a leash. It would be stupid to say that every itch in Deans body didn't want to turn back to find Sam when he was driving to the suburban area after the cage closed. It would be stupid to say that Dean didn't wake up every single day with that same itch still burning. It would be stupid to say that he never let himself do anything but protect Sam. It was his duty, it was his responsibility. He was always looking out for Sam, and maybe that's what Dean got wrong in the end.

"Hey! What's the hold up?" The girl knocked on his window. Dean cut the Impalas engine and got out of the car. Baby whined as Deans weight left her, as if she knew what was about to happen. As Dean lifted away from the car, it was like the weight left his shoulders. He touched Baby lightly with his hand. A small caress before the inevitable happens.

"Hey uh… I've been thinking. You got a lot of crap stowed with that bike yeah?" He asked softly.

"Yeah… lot of memories." She hesitated. "Judging by your whole rattle in the vents bit, you got some history too."

"Yeah." Dean scratched his head. He really didn't know how to go about this. "About this car…"

"Did it sputter? Somethin's wrong with it? I might be able to call a tow if-"

"I want you to have it."

"…What?"

"It's yours if you want it." Dean said rubbing his hand all over his face and head. "You can get out of here, see the world, and do whatever you want with her. She'll protect you. I guarantee it."

"She?"

"Yeah… I call her Baby." The girl stared at Dean for a bit, a silent understanding comes between them. She looked at the car and walked over to the driver's side door, gently fingering the chrome detailing on the window pane.

"Aren't we runnin'? If we do this?" She asked Dean. "Aren't we gonna be doin' exactly what they don't want us to do?" Dean thought about it. To anybody else it would seem like they're running, but Dean saw this as a way to really start over. To start to forgive himself for all the things he pent up for so long. Baby deserved a good life, a new one, so did Dean. Is that what that felt like? Deserving…

"Ya know, they've been telling us to do a lot of things. I think it's time we start telling ourselves what to do." Dean finally replied. The girl looked at him and grinned while softly pawing the Impala again.

"I call her Mary." She turned back to Dean and gestured to the bike. "It's my mom's name." Dean almost choked at the coincidence. She walked back to Dean and stared, blue hazel meeting green.

"You're really serious?" She asked. Dean paused.

"What's your name?"

"Sam."

.

.

"Yeah… Yeah I'm serious Sammy." Dean's eyes glazed over and it was a hard swallow that he didn't think he could make. Surely somewhere someone was making an awful joke. Sam pulled out her keys to Mary and grabbed Dean's hand to place them on his palm. Dean gripped her hand as she pulled away and hugged her tight. She gripped his shirt with almost as much force as the hunter did her. A silence fell across them as they parted and Dean handed over the keys to the Impala.

Dean turned back as Sam was getting into the car.

"Hey!" Dean jogged to the driver's side window.

"Yeah?"

"Um… there's some things you'll find about her. Things that make her, like the rattle. I'm not saying don't mess with them but, just remember that she has a story too." Dean rambled on. Sam smiled genuinely.

"She'll remember you. Just like I will." Sam started the Impala and turned on the AC to confirm the rattle of the Legos in the vents. Dean stepped back from the car and watched her drive into the sun paved road. When he couldn't see her anymore, he noticed the fields. Wide open space with the road that leads to everywhere and anywhere all at the same time. Dean turned to Mary, that Japanese manufactured hunk of style; still beautiful in her own way, reliable and steady. Dean walked over to her and held out the keys to the ignition when he noticed Sam's keychain. It was a picture of her and her parents. Dean flipped it over and noticed small print on the back that read:

"Wherever you go, we will always be there with you."

Dean smiled for the first time in a long time and started the bike up. He looked up to the sky and gave a suave salute.

"You better be watching Sammy. You better be doing good." Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The sun warmed his cheeks and the wind blew a new sense of adventure into his lungs. Dean settled on the seat and felt for the first time in years that he was meant to be where he was. He revved Mary smoothly and rubbed her front panel softly.

"Alright Mom… you said you always wanted to go to Virginia Beach."

Fin.