Indianapolis, Indiana

Deep in the crowded streets of Indianapolis, a multitude of cars came and went, passing thousands of people without leaving a single impression. A monstrous, black vehicle squeezed through the crowds while its driver searched the hundreds of neon lights for a suitable eatery. Catching sight of a big chain fast food place, the driver urged his Impala to a small road off the main road in hopes of food. As he pulled through the drive through, he addressed the silent passenger in the backseat.

"Hungry, buddy?" He adjusted the rearview mirror in order to get a good look at the man. He was slumped against the seat, sunglasses askew on his nose and a rumpled button-down half out of his waistband. His dark brown hair was disheveled and aided the sunglasses in hiding his eyes. The driver sighed. "Ah, probably not. Shame I never got your name, though. Actually..." he trailed off, reaching around his seat to fish through the passenger's pockets.

"Here we are!" he smirked, opening the wallet. An old Indiana driver's license was stuffed inside one of the clear pockets, and a large number of credit cards were filed neatly in the other pockets. "Bobby, huh? I'm Dean. Dean Winchester. You know, I got a friend named Bobby. Haven't talked to him in awhile, although I can tell you he had way fewer credit problems than you," he muttered as he shuffled through the wallet. As he fully opened the wallet, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Oh, hey! You mind buying dinner? I don't have any cash on me." Dean turned and waited for a response from the passenger. Getting none, he nodded and pointed a friendly finger at Bobby.

"You're awesome," he expressed. The car in front of him pulled up, giving him a chance to order.

"Hello, welcome to Pig N' A Poke. What can I get for you?" a muffled voice asked through the speaker.

Dean grinned. "I'm glad you asked. I'll take the special with a large Coke and fries."

"That'll be $8.50."

"No problem," Dean assured the speaker. He rolled up his window and glanced at Bobby through the rearview mirror. "Hope you don't mind. I didn't think you'd be hungry."

When he reached the window, Amy, the new hire at Pig N' A Poke, pushed the thick glass aside and was initally caught off guard. She blushed, awestruck by the effortless way his lips formed a charming smile. She struggled to find words, and stutterd the words she could get out.

"Uh, h-hi! Um. You got the special with f-fries and a drink, right?" she inquired, fighting the urge to twirl a curl of her hair. Dean draped one arm over the window frame, leaning out just enough for the harsh fluorescent lighting to strike the pale green of his irises. Amy felt herself go weak in the knees.

"Sure did," he answere. Amy smiled and remembered her training as she grabbed the food from behind the window. Engage the customer, her manager had said. She scanned the car and noticed a form in the backseat.

"Oh! You didn't get anything for your friend there?" she asked, peering into the glass at the motionless figure. Dean's eyebrows raised as he was momentarily confused by her question. As he realized who she was addressing, he pointed a thumb at the passenger.

"Who, him?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, that's Bobby. He's not hungry. Sleeping off a bit of hard partying, if you know what I mean," he hinted with a wink.

Amy became immediately flustered and laughed nervously. "Oh I getcha. Nice," she giggled. As she handed Dean his food, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, pleading for any continuation of the interaction. The moment the food hit Dean's hand, he grinned.

"Thanks, babe," he expressed. Within moments, he zoomed off, rushing to leave Indianapolis behind.

About an hour later, the food was gone, as well as the busy streets. Dean zipped down an empty, country road, still talking to his silent passenger.

"You got family, Bobby?" Dean glanced in the rearview mirror for an answer. "I do. Not much, though. There's my brother, Sammy, although I haven't seen him in, what, five years? Just as well though. I don't think he'd be too happy to see me, and I can't say the feeling wouldn't be mutual. There's Bobby, too. He's basically family, but I haven't seen him in awhile, either. See, he took Sammy and me in after Mom died." Dean fell silent, studying the road ahead of him from beneath furrowed brows. "If you're wondering about Dad, well, don't worry too much. Let's just say he didn't take Mom's death well."

Dean brought the car around a snake-like curve, and the passenger flopped onto the leather of the backseat. Dean whipped around to glance at the passenger.

"Whoa, hey. Watch it, bud. Don't get blood on her seats, alright?" Dean peered into the rearview, studying the now-brown splotches that had finally stopped spreading across the light fabric of Bobby's shirt. "My baby and I have been through, well, everything together. I've carried loads of people in here. Although," he smirked as he watched the road ahead, "none of them really got to sit anywhere but the trunk. Oh, look at that," Dean remarked, turning off the road down a rocky trail. "It's your stop, Bobby." He drove down through a grove of trees and stopped on the lip of a cliff. After shutting off the car, Dean walked around to drag the body from the backseat. He tucked Bobby's jacket around him, keeping himself and the car free of blood stains. He buttoned the jacket before tossing the body over his shoulder and approached the cliff's edge.

"Man, Bobby. You're lighter than you look. Really should have enjoyed that meal you bitched about so much, you know that?" Dean held the body for a moment longer, admiring the white foam of the waves below. "Great view. Shame you can't see it," he muttered. He peered down at the sharp rocks that jutted from the side of the cliff, and wondered just how far he could throw the lightweight.

"Well, Bobby, it's been fun, but here's where you get off." Dean lowered the body from his shoulder and held it like a small child out over the waves. With one swift movement, he hurled the skinny body over the edge and into the ice cold water. "Happy trails," Dean muttered, waving to the quickly disappearing form. The wind began to pick up, and Dean turned his collar up to protect him from the wind.

"Ten bucks says it takes Sammy less than a week to find this body and blame the wrong guy," Dean mumbled to himself, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Either way, see you soon, Sammy."