Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. It belongs to Kripke, and man does he keep it locked up tight. I would also like to mention that I do not own any "mullet rock" bands, nor do I own any performers of the pop genre, or their music. I do however own my three human characters and the werewolf. Did anybody realize how hard werewolves are to come by? Thank Heavens for Ebay!

This story contains some violence, language, and angst but nothing any worse than the show. And since Dean is in it, it is of course going to be funny. Well at least I think it's funny...but I wrote it so let me know what you guys think!

Enjoy!

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"HEY, HEY, MAMA, SAID THE WAY YOU MOVE, GONNA MAKE YOU SWEAT, GONNA MAKE YOU GROOVE. OH, OH, CHILD, WAY YOU SHAKE THAT THING, GONNA MAKE YOU BURN, GONNA MAKE YOU STING. HEY, HEY, BABY, WHEN YOU WALK THAT WAY, WATCH YOUR HONEY DRIP, CAN'T KEEP AWAY!!!!!!"

"AH YEAH, AH YEAH, AH, AH, AH. AH YEAH, AH YEAH-"

"Dean, PLEASE SHUT THE HELL UP!!!!" Sam shouted at his older brother from where he sat in the passenger seat. Poor Sam couldn't take it any more. He hit the eject button on the stereo's control panel and out popped the cassette. The car abruptly went into blissful silence except for the sound of the wind whipping in through the windows.

The black Impala had been cruising down the highways of Colorado for the past 2 hours while Dean blasted his music. The rolled down windows didn't bother Sam. He liked the fresh air and the way his shaggy hair blew in the wind. He also liked the way it drowned out some of the music, even though the music wasn't even what bothered him exactly. Sure he'd have liked to listen to something other than Led Zeppelin's 'Black Dog' for the fourth time in the past half hour. No, what bothered Sam was the fact that Dean seemed to insist on shouting the lyrics at the top of his lungs while strumming on the steering wheel and dashboard in accompaniment. And Dean was definitely no Robert Plant.

"Jeez, Sammy, what crawled up your ass?," Dean asked perturbed by his little brother's rude interruption. He was just getting to the good part.

"Sorry, I just couldn't take it anymore. Can't you play your music at a normal volume? Not seats-in-front-of-the-speakers-at-a-concert volume?"

"No, Sammy I can't."

"And just why not?"

"Because then you might try to talk to me."

Dean spotted a diner and was pulling over when he glanced over at his brother who's jaw had dropped and he started to laugh. Sam seeing his brother's amusement got out of the car and slammed the door.

"Was it something I said?," Dean asked trying to sound oblivious.

"You're a jerk," Sam replied.

"Tell me something I don't know."

He knew Dean had been kidding about what he said, but he also had the feeling there was some truth there too. They had been through a lot lately and Dean wasn't exactly the pour your heart out, give me a shoulder to cry on type.