For the next two days, they didn't go anywhere.

Dean insisted it was because there was so much to do around the Bunker and they finally had time to get a few things accomplished. He knew Sam was allowing the ruse even though they both knew the real reason they weren't going anywhere was because Dean didn't want to drive the shiny black 2017 Chevrolet Impala.

Initially, he had failed to see the humor in Sam's decision to rent that particular car. But he didn't find the situation quite as frustrating as he had at first, although he still didn't like the car. It could have all the bells and whistles and fancy toys, but it wasn't his car and he was glad he didn't have to keep it.

"Dean?"

He looked up from the pieces of shelving in front of him and called out, "In here."

"Where's here?" Sam's voice sounded further away.

"Turn around," Dean shouted back.

A moment later, his brother appeared in the doorway. "Hey."

"Hey." Dean stretched his legs out and leaned back against the wall. "What's up?"

Sam was studying the mess in front of him and Dean could tell he had about thirty seconds before his brother was going to be on his knees sorting the pieces of wood and screws by size and type.

"How's the project going?" Sam asked, taking a step closer.

When he leaned over to grab one of the boards, Dean punched him in the side of the leg. "Hands off. My bookshelf. My project."

"You could be done now if-"

"I've got it under control."

Sam frowned, looking from him back to the boards. He was itching to organize the mess. Dean knew Sam's organizational expertise would make the project go faster, but he wasn't really in a hurry. It was his Saturday project and he had all day. He'd put it off all week so he would have it to work on today. Because it was Saturday and that was the day people worked on projects. He'd figured that out during the year he'd lived with Lisa and Ben.

Normal people worked around the house on Saturday if they weren't out grilling or playing baseball. Now that he had a place to call his own, Dean liked having a project to do on the weekends when they weren't out hunting monsters. They usually worked on the larger projects together, but this was just for him.

"So what's up?" Dean prompted when Sam continued to stare at the boards.

"Lunch." Sam glanced at him. "And the shop called."

Dean was on his feet. "What'd they say?"

"We can pick her up anytime." Sam smiled.

"Let's go." Dean pushed past him, leaving his Saturday project for later.

"Lunch first."

"Nah, we can eat when we get back."

"We're eating now," Sam countered. "I put a lot of time and effort into the meal so you will eat it before we go."

Dean headed toward the kitchen, casting his brother a knowing look. "Time and effort, huh?"

"Yes. It's a culinary masterpiece."

"You reheated the mostaccioli, didn't you?"

Sam grinned. "I even sprinkled cheese on top."

"Please tell me you used the splatter shield. I'm sick of cleaning the microwave," Dean griped. "It takes one second to put the cover-"

"I used the cover."

"So no pasta sauce all over my microwave?"

"Your microwave?"

"My microwave."

"Technically, we bought it using half of my winnings from that pool game in Tupelo," Sam said as they entered the kitchen. "So it's our microwave."

"How do you even remember stuff like that?" Dean muttered. His stomach growled at the amazing smell as he sat down at the table. Shaking his head, he said, "We better never get a divorce, Sammy. I mean, who's gonna get the microwave? Who's gonna get the fine china?"

Smiling, Sam handed him a beer and sat down across from him. "I want the microwave. You can keep the splatter shield."

"You want the china?" Dean asked around a mouthful of mostaccioli.

"No, you can have it. I'll take the library."

"The whole thing, huh?"

"The whole thing."

"I bought some of those books." Dean shook his head.

"Take it up with my lawyer."

Dean almost spit beer all over the table. Once he'd contained his laughter, he said, "Don't tell me we're gonna have to fight for custody of my Baby. Cuz she's mine. All mine. Always has been and always will be."

Sam paused, fork halfway to his mouth. After a moment's consideration, he said, "Visitation rights?"

"Sure." Dean grinned.

They fell silent as they dug into the reheated pasta. Dean couldn't wait to get his car back, but he had been hungry and had to admit the leftovers tasted pretty great with cheese sprinkled on top. Still amused by their conversation, something hit him that he'd never really thought of before.

Finishing a bite, he asked, "Do you want a car?"

Sam's eyebrows rose and he paused, fork halfway to his mouth again. "What?"

"A car. Do you want one?"

"Uh...I'm confused."

"It's a simple question, genius."

Sam set his fork down and said, "You did hear me say we can pick the Impala-"

"I heard you. This doesn't have anything to do with the Impala."

"Okaaaay," Sam drew the word out.

"So?"

"Do I want a car? Why would I need a car? Are you kicking me out?"

"Yes, Sam," Dean said as seriously as he could, "After thirty-whatever years, I'm kicking you out."

"I'm taking my half of the library," Sam said and this time his mouth was full of pasta. "And the microwave."

Dean rolled his eyes and reached for his beer.

"Seriously." Sam frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Setting the beer down, Dean studied his brother. All these years and it had never occurred to him. Dad had given him the keys to the Impala and they'd been on the road together ever since. Barring a few periods spent apart, they'd been together. And, other than a brief period when he'd been without his soul, Sam had never had a car of his own.

"All these years, driving around with me, you never wanted your own car?"

"Sometimes. Especially whenever you were being a jerk." Sam smiled. "But why's this coming up now? I mean, we've got a system and it's been workin' for us for years. You don't want me riding with-"

"That's not it," Dean cut him off. "I'm not tryin' to change anything. I mean, the Impala's ours, Sam. Sure, I drive most of the time, but you know she's yours too, right?"

"Yeah."

"I can't imagine not having my wheels. Even having that piece of crap rental isn't the same. It's not mine. I just never thought about it before. That you've never had a car of your own."

Sam smiled again and shrugged. "It's not a big deal."

"You want one?" Dean offered, feeling oddly bothered by something he'd never once thought about before. "I mean, we could get you a car. We could still use the Impala for huntin' but you could have your own car now."

"Actually, I already have one."

Dean grinned. "You do, do you?"

"Yeah."

"So got it all tucked up in mothballs somewhere for a rainy day?" Dean played along.

"Yes."

They fell silent. Dean narrowed his eyes and waited for the punchline. When it didn't come, his mind began reeling. He was being serious? Sam was smiling the way he always did when he knew something Dean didn't. Is it possible?

Clearing his throat, Dean decided to continue pursuing the topic. "You have a car. In mothballs?"

"It's not in mothballs because that would be bad for the paint job." Sam took a sip of his beer and nodded, obviously enjoying the situation. "But it's tucked up in a safe place."

"You're not joking."

"I'm not joking."

"You seriously have a car."

"I seriously have a car."

Dean shook his head, completely flabbergasted. "You have a car and you're just mentioning it now? How long have you had a car?"

"Since I didn't have my soul."

Dean spit beer across the table.

Sam passed him a stack of napkins.

"Thanks," Dean said, mopping up the mess. "How the hell do you have a car from then that I don't know about?"

"Well." Sam shrugged. He gave it some thought, then said, "Things were pretty complicated for a few years there."

"For a few years? When haven't things been pretty complicated?"

Sam laughed. "Ok you're right. They've always been complicated."

"Yeah. So start explaining."

"Remember the Charger I had...well, soulless me had?"

"That plastic piece of crap Cas smashed?"

"Yes. That one."

"What about it?"

"I kept it."

"You kept it." Dean's jaw dropped. "How? I mean, all this time, everything that's happened? And you never thought to mention it? And why did you keep a smashed up car anyway?"

"I liked it."

"You didn't have a soul."

"I still liked the car, Dean." Sam smiled.

Dean waved a hand. "What's there to like?"

"Dude, I've got a 6.1 litre Hemi under that plastic hood." And he sounded so pleased about it that Dean couldn't help but be proud. "Zero to sixty in five seconds."

Still struggling to adapt to the knowledge that his brother had kept a Dodge Charger SRT8 hidden away for six years, Dean said, "It was smashed."

Sam nodded. "I had it towed, repaired and then stowed."

"You did all that, didn't tell me, and then you just went back to ridin' shotgun with me even though you still didn't have a soul?"

"I can't explain it, man." Sam shrugged. "I wasn't all there. Literally. I liked the car, still do. So I had it taken care of so I could get it back when I wanted it."

"So why did you start riding with me again?"

"Well, for one thing, my car was in pieces at the time."

"Yeah, I guess that was an issue."

"It was."

"So you just rode with me because your car was smashed?"

"I didn't have a soul remember?"

"I know, I know."

"I don't think I intended to stay on the road with you forever," Sam said, tracing a finger along the edge of the table. "It was just the logical and convenient thing to do right then."

Dean could see the validity in that. "What I still don't get is why you haven't said a word about having a car for all these years."

"Didn't seem important."

"You have your own set of wheels sitting in a garage somewhere and it wasn't important." Dean shook his head. "Even after you got your soul back?"

"We were dealing with a lot of crap, Dean," Sam said softly, studying the bottle in his hand. "I wasn't exactly thinking straight right then."

And, yeah, they had been dealing with a lot of crap. A lot of crap. The memories flashed through his mind in an ugly montage of pain. Cas' betrayal resulting in the wall in Sam's head collapsing. Bobby's death. Purgatory. Everything that happened after he'd escaped that place. It still seemed crazy that Sam wouldn't have said anything about the car, but Dean knew Sam was right; he hadn't been thinking straight.

"So where is it?" Dean asked, ready to move on to a less depressing subject.

"Pennsylvania." Sam looked up at him. "That's where we were when it got smashed. I didn't have a lot of time so I made the arrangements and left it there. I always meant to go get it, but I don't really need it, you know?"

Dean couldn't help but smile. Something deep down inside him warmed at the admission. He'd known for some time now that Sam wasn't going anywhere, wasn't leaving him. But it still meant something to hear Sam was content to stay by his side in the Impala. A second car could come in handy at times when they needed to split up.

"You wanna go get it?" Dean asked, deciding it was about time his brother had his own car.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you hear what I said? I don't need it."

"I know. And I'm cool with that, but…"

"But?" Sam prompted when his voice trailed off.

Mind made up, Dean said, "But I think we should go get it."

"Why?"

"Sometimes having a second car would be handy. We could cover more ground on some cases." Dean held up a hand to hold back the protest he knew was coming. "I'm not saying every case or all the time. Besides cases, sometimes we do like to do our own thing. You could take your car and go to the library and I can-"

"Go pick up a girl?" Sam grinned.

Dean grinned back. "You wanna go there, Mr. Night Moves? What was that waitress's name again?"

"Shut up," Sam muttered, but he was still smiling.

"I'm just sayin' there's no reason not to get the car. An extra vehicle isn't a bad thing." Dean could see Sam was considering it. So he added, "Besides, you like the car, right?"

Sam nodded.

"I'm guessing you didn't just boost it because it was convenient."

"I didn't steal it," Sam said. "Working with the Campbells had its perks. They had some money and I got to pick out what I wanted."

"Well, I'm relieved to discover your taste in cars doesn't entirely suck at least."

"Thanks."

"So. Road trip? Once I get my baby back, that is. I'm not galavanting across the country in that...thing."

"Galavanting?" Sam looked amused.

"Whatever. I'm not driving that thing anywhere but to pick up my car. Then you can return it from whence it came."

Sam's eyes widened. "From whence it came? Who are you and what did you do with my brother?"

"Shut up. You want your car or what?" Dean asked.

Sam considered the question for a moment, then said, "Yeah. I do actually."

Dean smiled. Considering he'd kept the car in storage for six years without saying a word about it, Sam looked pretty excited about the prospect of getting it back.

Nodding, Dean said, "Ok. So, road trip. Finish lunch, pack a bag, pick up my Baby and we'll go get yours."


Sam hadn't expected his brother's reaction to the revelation that he had a car. He was kind of surprised by his own admission about the car. It had been years since he'd even thought about the Charger. It had never seemed important and it surprised him how seriously Dean was taking it. He couldn't help but smile as he reflected on their conversation earlier. Dean had felt bad about him never having a car of his own.

It was unexpected and...sweet.

He thought about saying so aloud just to annoy his brother, but, at the moment, Dean was already annoyed.

There had been no griping about the rental Impala for almost fifteen entire minutes. Dean had been too busy packing to gripe. But now? Now that they were packed and ready to leave?

"It looks like a granny car," Dean griped as they loaded their gear in the too small trunk.

"Don't insult all the nice grannies out there, Dean." Sam elbowed his brother out of the way so he could try to cram his gear into the trunk. "Be thankful I didn't get you a Prius. Or a Taurus."

Dean shuddered. "Now that is a granny car. Ick."

"Ick?" Sam repeated, rolling his eyes. "Really? Ick?"

"Damn straight ick." Dean slammed the trunk closed. He stared disdainfully at the car, then asked in a legitimate whine, "Can we go now?"

Sam motioned to the keys in Dean's hand. "You've got the keys."

"No, I have the remote control," Dean muttered, eyes narrowed as he studied the key fob. "It's a remote control car. What happened to cars that were machines? Cars that were badass. Now they all look the same. And they're remote controlled. Why?"

He'd only half been listening to his brother's complaining, but Sam picked up on the fact Dean was expecting an answer right now. They were still standing at the rear of the car and he'd been daydreaming about his Charger. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Sam glanced at his brother and saw the torment in his eyes. This was very serious to him.

Stifling a smile, Sam said, "It's for the convenience. Remote start in the winter? Warm car to get into? Air conditioned in the summer? Easy to unlock doors and pop the trunk."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean muttered, glaring daggers at the unfortunate remote control car. "But it's a piece of crap that looks like every other piece of crap out there."

Considering the car's lineage, Sam did have to admit it was lacking. Glancing at his watch, he realized he needed to get things moving. They didn't have a lot of time to pick up their Impala and return this one.

"We should go," Sam said, holding a hand out. "Let me drive."

"Like hell." Dean closed his fist around the keys and stormed toward the driver's side door.

Sam sighed. Rolled his eyes. Got into the passenger seat. Listened to Dean continue to gripe. Buckling his seatbelt, Sam said, "You're getting Baby back in under an hour. Why don't you just let me drive? I can drop you off and then I can take this car back."

Dean ignored him and started the car.

Resigning himself, Sam settled back for the drive.

A few minutes into the drive, he realized his butt was on fire. Dean grinned triumphantly and laughed. Sam decided maybe seat warmers and remote control cars weren't all they were cracked up to be.


"Oh Baby, how I've missed you." Dean smiled as he took in the sight of the Impala sitting out in front of the repair shop. Parking the rental, he tossed the remote at his brother without even looking at him. "Get the crap."

"Yes, your highness," Sam mocked him as he got out of the car.

Dean ignored him and hurried into the shop. It took longer than he would have preferred to listen to the mechanic's report on the car and pay for the repairs, but finally he had his keys back. The repairs had gone well, he'd been assured. Not that he didn't trust them...but he didn't trust them. So he spent the next ten minutes under the hood checking.

Sam was busy loading their gear back into the trunk. A trunk where everything fit easily and didn't need to be crammed in like sardines. Dean sank into his seat with a happy sigh, running his hand down the wheel. When he heard the trunk slam, he pulled his door closed and rolled down the window.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?" He peered up at his brother, revving the engine.

"You ready?"

Dean allowed the roar of the V8 to be his answer.

Sam rolled his eyes and backed away. He raised his voice to be heard over the engine. "You gonna remember to pick me up?"

Dean grinned, put the car in gear and tore out of the parking lot.

He saw his brother throw his hands up in resignation and walk to the 2017 Impala. Dean left the repair shop in the dust. The open road was ahead of him and only one stop sign stood between him and a flat stretch of freedom. For a moment, as he pulled up to the stop sign, he was twenty-six again.

The world an undiscovered adventure ahead of him.

The problems he'd faced at twenty-six had been staggering even though, somehow, they seemed small in comparison to everything he'd faced since. At twenty-six, after a lifetime of working and living side by side with his father and his brother, he'd been alone for the first time. It had been terrifying and exhilarating. He'd been faced with trying to locate his father and deal with monsters at every turn.

And then Sam.

How many moments of his life could be summed up with those three words? Almost all of them. He'd gone to pick up his brother to help find their dad, and then Sam had watched his girlfriend die in front of his eyes. On top of his worry over his father, Dean had been faced with trying to help a heartbroken little brother. A little brother he wasn't sure he even know anymore. And then Sam had developed superpowers right under his nose.

He'd been so far in over his head that he hadn't even been able to see daylight anymore.

But before all that, Dean remembered sitting at a stop sign just like this one. Empty stretch of blacktop leading him west. The last moment before he'd made his decision. The last moment he'd had a life all to himself. He'd sat there, deep in thought, just like he was now. Hindsight was 20/20 and, at this exact moment, Dean couldn't begin to fathom why he'd ever hesitated that night.

His gaze was drawn to the rear view mirror and he smiled a little when he saw the 2017 Impala slow to a stop behind him. Sam was holding his hands up in a questioning way. Dean turned slightly and gave his brother a thumbs up, then turned back and took a deep breath.

Open road ahead.

World still an undiscovered adventure ahead of him.

He could easily put the pedal to the floor and go for a spin. Sam would understand. He'd take the rental back and wait until Dean returned. Dean realized that, for as often as Sam had walked away from him, he'd also waited for him.

Smiling, Dean took another glance at the road ahead. And then he turned right at the stop sign and lead the way to the rental office. Sam followed him and Dean let his brother handle the transaction. He remained comfortably settled behind the wheel of his car with his music playing; he had no desire to be near the modern Chevy again.

Sam pulled the door open and ducked into the car.

"You could've picked me up," Sam said, settling back into his seat in a way that made Dean think his brother was just as happy to have their car back as he was.

"What do you call this?" Dean asked, accelerating down the road.

"I mean, you could've gone for a drive first. I know you wanted to take her for a spin."

"What do you call this?" Dean repeated.

Sam smiled, resting his arm on the door, apparently content not to pursue the topic further.

Dean couldn't help but grin as they came to the stop sign again. One right turn stood between them and the never ending road. Today it was leading them to Pennsylvania and his little brother's Dodge Charger SRT8.

"You know I'm intending to kick your ass all the way home, right?" Dean asked, still sitting at the stop sign.

"You can try." Sam's smile widened at the suggestion of a race. After a minute passed, he waved a hand toward the windshield. "You plannin' to move sometime today?"

Dean nodded, eyes on the horizon. The road ahead was theirs. No one as far as the eye could see in any direction. His thoughts drifted back to that stop sign twelve years ago. He could've picked any direction that day. Dad had been gone. Sam had been gone.

He could've made a right turn or a left turn and gone his own way, and started his own life. But he'd gone straight. Straight toward the only life he'd ever known or cared about. Straight toward the most important person in his life.

Straight toward the future.

Dean smiled, knowing his brother was wondering what was taking so long.

"You ever stop to think about all the roads we've been on over the years?"

Sam's voice drew him out of his reverie. Dean glanced at him. Obviously his brother was involved in his own moment of reflection.

Catching his gaze, Sam smiled. "We should've started marking the roads on a map."

"Aw, Sammy, we need to get you a scrapbook." Dean grinned. "Get you some stickers and stencils."

"Shut up. And drive, will you?" Sam waved a hand. "You're gonna be the first guy to get a ticket for not going after stopping at a stop sign."

"You'll bail me out."

"You're so sure about that?"

Dean grinned and finally accelerated down the road.


They were silent for almost twenty minutes before Sam asked, "What were you thinking about back there?"

"Back where?"

"Back at the stop sign." Sam shifted, resting his elbow on the open window. "You were sitting there forever and you looked like you had something on your mind."

Dean shrugged. "It wasn't anything."

"Dude, you sat at a stop sign for almost five minutes. You seldom stop at a stop sign let alone stay stopped at a stop sign."

Whatever it had been, Dean was in no hurry to share details. Which made Sam all the more interested in getting his brother to share those details. He opened his mouth to press his brother but, to his surprise, Dean spoke up before he could.

"I was thinking about the day I went to pick you up."

Eyebrows raised, Sam asked, "Uh. You wanna narrow it down for me?"

"Stanford."

"Oh." That hadn't been what he'd been expecting and Sam wasn't sure what to make of it.

Dean glanced at him as if sensing his curiosity. He shrugged and said, "It's nothing."

The statement alone told Sam it wasn't nothing. He waited, knowing if he didn't push, he'd be more likely to get an answer. And, sure enough, a moment later, Dean spoke up again.

"I don't know why, but sitting at the stop sign, I just thought back to that night. I was sitting at another stop sign trying to figure out my life and what I was supposed to do." Dean took a deep breath, settled more comfortably in his seat, then said, "Dad was in the wind-"

"And you came to get me."

"Yeah."

"Crazy to think it's been twelve years." Sam shook his head. It didn't even seem possible for it to have been that long.

Dean nodded. "Crazy."

"You ever regret-"

"No," Dean cut him off before he could finish. "I don't."

Sam smiled. "Me neither."

Dean looked away, smiling. There'd been plenty of things to regret over the years and Sam was sure Dean had his own list. But it was reassuring to know this wasn't on either of their lists.

"So," Dean said, motioning to the road ahead.

"So." Sam nodded, resting his arm on the back of the seat and shifting to look at him. "You sure you wanna do this? I mean, we've got a lot on our plates right now and the car isn't really important-"

"Yeah. It is."

Sam smiled. "It's just a car, Dean."

"Damn straight it's just a car," Dean said, grinning and patting the dashboard. "It's not my Baby."

Sam rolled his eyes. "And it's not my baby either, dude. It's a car."

"Well I'm glad you aren't intending to name the car Baby 2 or something dorky like that."

Sam laughed and turned the radio up.

"Think we can get to Pennsylvania and back without the world ending?" Dean asked.

"What? Again?"

They both broke out laughing.

Maybe they'd make it back without the world ending in the meantime or maybe they wouldn't. Sam decided it didn't really matter. They were together and that was what mattered. It was the only thing that ever had.

And the only thing that ever would.


Ok, the premise of this story was born when I came across a website that pointed out Sam was driving a 2006 Dodge Charger in the episode "The Raid" when he went to meet Mary. The site hypothesized that it was the same car from episode 6.1 "Exile on Main Street" and 6.3 "The Third Man." Whether or not it's truly the same car, the idea of Sam having kept the Charger sparked my imagination. I love the idea that the car he drove in "the Raid" was his own car. It's plausible, I think, and I tried to give it as reasonable an explanation here that I could. :)

Hope you enjoyed!