Taking Care of the Boys
The man with the weary face sinks down into the leather embrace of the front seat, his head resting on the steering
wheel. Tears stream down the cheeks of his weathered face as he looks up into the rearview mirror to see his two
young sons in the backseat, shock reflecting in the jade green eyes of the oldest boy as he holds his infant brother
in his arms.
"It'll be OK, Sammy, don't cry, please don't cry," said the boy as he hugs his brother close to his chest. The baby
wails loudly but begins to quiet as the boy rocks him and sings softly to him.
The man stares out of the driver's side window at the burned out shell of his home. His big hands shaking, he cranks
the big black car and eases it into gear.
"I will take care of you."
The tall man with the shaggy auburn hair slams his fist against the dashboard of the big black car. "Dammit, Dean!
How could you leave me alone? I can't do this without you!" he screams. He sits in the car for hours, mourning the
loss of his brother, listening to the silence surrounding him, tears falling from his face onto the leather of the front
seat. He raises his head as the sun breaches the horizon, spying a lone cassette tape on the floorboard of the car.
Picking it up, he smiles as he reads the label "Dean's Road Song Mix" Popping the cassette tape in, he cranks the
car and turns up the volume as the strains of Wayward Son filter through the speakers. "Thanks, Baby," he says as
he adjusts the rearview mirror. "Let's go."
"I will take care of you."
The black car sits as a silent witness to the heartbroken man with the jade green eyes as he woodenly sits on the
ground, leaning against the warm metal of the car door. Bruises and cuts have wreaked havoc on his beautiful face,
blood streaking from lacerations on his cheeks, split lip leaking ruby blood. His left eye is completely swollen shut
and he cradles a broken arm. "Dean, Sam's gone, it's time to go now," he hears from a gravelly voice. He looks up at
the source of the voice, a dark haired man in a brown trenchcoat. The man touches two fingers to Dean's forehead,
healing his battered face and broken arm but unable to do anything about the broken heart. "Cas, how am I gonna
go on without my brother?" the shattered man asks as he hauls himself up against the car and leans his weight
against it.
"I will take care of you."
The brothers, reunited once more, are sleeping soundly in their big black car, the shaggy haired man in the back
seat and the green eyed man in the front seat. Both are covered with blankets against the chill of the night air. The
metal surrounding them softly ticks as it cools off after a long day on the road. The green eyes man tosses over in
his sleep, moaning "No, no, no, Sam! I'm not letting you die again!" A cassette tape gently slides into the tape deck
and the soothing refrain of Wayward Son fills the air, easing the green eyed man into more pleasant dreams. The
shaggy haired brother sits up as the sound of the music and sees his brother in the front seat. "Dean, did you turn
on the radio?" he asks but gets no answer. He shrugs, noticing that his brother's blanket has slid off and onto the
floor. He reaches over and settles the blanket back around the form of the sleeping man. "Love you, big brother," he
says softly as he settles back down in the back seat.
The next morning as Baby roars down the highway, the two brothers grin at each other across the front seat. "Where
to next, Dean?" asked the shaggy haired man. "I don't know yet, " answers the green eyed man "But wherever we
go, Baby will get us there in no time!" He pats the leather seat contentedly and turns the volume up on the radio.
"I will take care of you. I will ALWAYS take care of you."