Authors Note: Hey! I wanna thank you all for all your wonderful reviews :) They mean the world and I'm happy that you all liked the first chapter. I know I have said this a lot lately while posting stories but I hope the next update wont be such a long wait. This time of year has proved busy and chaotic lol If you're still with me then thanks and I hope you enjoy this next part. Thanks to Angelustatt and my Mum for helping with this chapter.

At the end of this chapter in my end authors notes there is a message I was asked to post about the writers strike ... now onto the story ...

Chapter 2. John's Truck.

"I still think that we should have used that distraction from Gone in 60 Seconds. You know like that little black dude did?" Dean snickered as they made their way quietly through the lot in the police impound.

Sam rolled his eyes deliberately not looking at his brother. A vision of Dean playing with a plastic doll to distract the Impound officer came to his mind and he shook his head to clear it. "Yeah, because we should take a chance with your mug on America's most wanted list." He replied sarcastically. "That's a real clever thing to do."

Dean shrugged as he followed Sam past other impounded cars. His response was cut off when he saw it off in the distance near the back roller door. Sam had organised with the Officer that had called to have the truck ready for them to take. It insured that when they came to get the truck they wouldn't be boxed in.

The sight of his father's truck after all this time was enough to make him pause. He felt a lump in his throat. Just looking at the massive truck reminded him of his father. The last time he had seen him drive off in it was to go and meet Meg. That was the last time he had seen his father as his father before waking up in the hospital and that was something that he really didn't want to think about. John was fine now, still dead but no longer in hell. It felt like it had been years since they had burnt their fathers body but in the same instance it felt like only yesterday, even more so when the man's truck was right in front of him.

"Dean?"

Sam's voice brought him back to the present and Dean shook off the feelings and emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. "Let's bust her out, Sammy."

Sam nodded and continued on the remaining distance separating them from the truck. As he reached the vehicle Sam placed his hand on the side panel and just took in the sight of it. There were so many things running through his mind right now that he didn't know what to say. They needed to get out of here, get the truck out before someone caught them. It was risky enough what they were doing and it was only the two of them. There was no team of car boosters to help them like in Gone in 60 Seconds and if they were caught they would be going down for more than just stealing a truck. Murder and a number of other crimes would be pinned on them and the last thing Sam needed was for him or both of them to be imprisoned when he had to find a way to break his brother's deal.

Sam moved onto the driver's side door and took out his lock picking set. He felt Dean come to stand beside him and briefly glanced at him before lifting the lock pick to the key hole.

"Sam, what are you doing?" Dean's voice was just above a whisper.

"Breaking into the truck," Sam answered as if it should be obvious.

Suddenly set of keys were jingled in front of his face. Sam pulled back and looked at Dean with a confused expression. "Dude, those are the keys to the Impala."

"Dad gave me a spare key to the truck in case of emergencies," Dean stated with a smile, separating his father's key from the Impala's.

Sam couldn't control the look on his face in that moment, looking at Dean like he was a moron. "Why the hell didn't you tell me that before?" he snatched the key out of Dean's hands.

"I almost forgot about it myself." He shrugged. "It's not like I was expecting to find the damn truck after all this time."

"I know." Sam slipped the key into the lock and turned it. The door unlocked with no problems. With one more shared look between the brothers Sam opened the door. The feeling was staggering, even after all this time of the truck being missing, it still had an air of John Winchester about it. It was enough to cause the two remaining Winchesters to pause for a moment.

Dean was the first one to snap out of it. "Sam, we're not gonna have very long before the dude at the booth realises that the call you made to him was phoney. We better get out of here."

"You're right." Sam agreed, handing the key back to Dean.

Dean looked down at the keys in his hand and then back at the truck and then back to Sam. "Open the roller door, Sammy. I'll start her up."

With Sam walking off to get the roller door open Dean climbed up into the cab of the truck and sat down on the leather seat. He shoved the key into the ignition and then placed his hands on the steering wheel. It was surreal. He was sitting in his father's truck. The man had been dead for about a year and a half and now suddenly the truck just turned up out of nowhere. It was odd.

The roller door was opening at a slow pace, much slower than Dean really liked but there wasn't much he could do about that or the noise that it was making.

It was in the middle of the night and the only officer on hand at the Police Impound at gotten a call from 'his superiors' calling him away from the post. Sam had made the call hoping that they could get in and out before the night man got back to his post. It was a good thing too because the roller door was damn noisy when in operation.

Dean started up the truck as soon as the soon as the door was open enough, smiling when she started up without a problem. Closing the door he drove out only stopping long enough for Sam to set the roller door to close and hop up next to him in the passenger seat.

Pulling out of the driveway Dean drove in silence in the direction of the Impala that they had parked in a side street a few blocks away from the Police Impound.

Sam shifted in the seat as he looked around at the interior of the truck. He remembered when his father had first bought the truck. John had handed over the keys to the Impala to Dean for his 16th birthday and therefore needed transportation for himself. Bobby had picked up the Chevy GMC for a decent price and from that point on it was him and Dean in the Impala following their father in his truck around the countryside.

Dean was still having trouble believing that they had found John's truck. His mind was swirling with so many questions that he didn't have answers to. Who'd had the truck this whole time? That question was at the forefront of his mind. They had searched. They'd had Bobby search and keep an eye out for the massive truck. It might have only been a truck but it was a part of his father and to lose that right when they had lost the man himself hadn't helped his mood.

To Dean someone's personal vehicle said a lot about a person. Even for people who didn't pretty much live out of their car like the Winchester's did a car held a part of that person. You could probably tell a lot about a person by what you would find in their car.

Dean eased his foot onto the brake pedal as the side street where the Impala was waiting came into view. Indicating and then turning right into the smaller street the older hunter came to a slow stop behind his car and left the motor running as he turned and looked at Sam.

"So …"

"So you take the Impala and I'll meet you at the apartment complex." Dean answered ignoring the surprised look on his brother's face. The kid was obviously shocked that he was handing over the driving of his beloved car so that he could drive the truck.

"Okay … but no detours okay, straight back to the apartments. And park the truck around the back; we don't need anyone spotting it." Sam opened the door, a little reluctant to part ways with his brother even though he knew there was no way around it.

Dean raised an eyebrow in annoyance. "I think I know what I'm doing, Geek Boy."

"I'm serious."

"Yeah," Dean replied. He nodded slowly. "And so am I. Now get out before I have to kick your ass out." He smirked, letting Sam know that he was joking.

Catching the Impala keys that Dean tossed to him Sam closed the door to the truck and strode over to the black Chevy. He unlocked the door and climbed in.

Dean watched from his seat high up in the truck and waited for Sam to pull out onto the road before he took off, following Sam for a distance before turning off and taking another direction to the run down, abandoned apartment complex they had decided to stay in for the night or however long they were there. It was far enough away from the Police Station for them so that they didn't have to constantly worry about cop's catching them out with the stolen truck but still in the surrounding area. Dean hadn't wanted to move too far out of the area until they'd had a chance to look over the truck and try to work out what to do from there.

The most logical course of action would be to call Bobby and take the truck back to his salvage yard. They would need to call the mechanic and let him know that they had been held up with the hunt anyway but Dean wanted a moment to work things out by themselves first. After all this was their father's truck.

Until finding the storage room full of their father's things they had only had memories and a journal full of John's knowledge on Supernatural evils to remember him by. Dean was anxious to find out what they could find hidden in the depths of the vehicle that had carried his father around for the last 10 years of his life.

xXx

There was one thing that Sam knew for sure. This was the last time he let Dean pick where they squatted. There was a definite suspicious smell coming from somewhere in the depilated building. He could smell it now that he had sat down long enough. It smelt like something had up and died and Sam desperately hoped that he didn't find a dead human body anywhere because that was something they didn't exactly need to deal with.

Scrunching up his nose in disgust at the smell wafting through the room Sam stood up, almost sending the chair he was sitting on flying backwards. Where the hell was Dean?

Walking around the medium sized kitchen with the white peeling pain on the wall he began opening cupboards and draws. He was trying to find what the hell that smell was because he doubted that if either he or Dean would be able to sleep with it.

The sound of the large truck driving up the driveway and then over long weeds and grass was a welcome sound. He hated it when his brother was out there by himself with the chance of something going wrong like the cops finding him or anything in Dean's case. His brother seemed to attract trouble like a moth to a flame.

Picking up two flashlights and his .45 just in case, Sam made his way out the door to greet Dean. When he reached the back door he could see Dean hopping down from the truck and looking his way.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked flippantly.

"Dude, I think something died in there." He hadn't meant for a complaint about the smell to be the first thing he said but it sort of just came out.

Dean frowned. "That bad?"

Sam nodded, a disgusted look coming over his face. He brought his attention to the truck. "I'm going to assume you didn't have any trouble."

"Nope, streets are quiet."

"You wanna do this now or wait until morning?" Sam asked shining his flashlight at the car.

Dean shrugged and smiled. "It is morning, Sammy."

Sam rolled his eyes but the effect was lost in the darkness of night. "I'll rephrase … would you like to wait until light?"

Dean shook his head. "I wanna do this now …"

"Dean, it was a long enough drive to get here in the first place. The truck will be here in the morning." Sam tried. They would be able to look over it more thoroughly in the daylight but even in the dark Sam could see the stubborn look on Dean's face.

Dean shook his head again and looked back at the truck, placing on hand on the still open door. "Nah, you go in if you want to Sam. I wanna get this done now."

"Dean …"

"Sam." Interrupting his brother's tirade Dean swung around to meet his Sam's gaze. "You just told me it stinks like death in there. I think I'll stick with the truck … okay?"

"Fine," Sam conceded with a huff.

"Good."

Dean took the flashlight that Sam handed to him and started making his way around to the passenger side and opened the door. The first thing he wanted to do was check the weapons compartment at the back of the truck bed.

The cop hadn't said much to Sam about the condition of the truck other than it was involved in the robbery. There were two possibilities. Either they hadn't searched the car or the weapons stash had already been found and taken by whoever had taken the car. Considering the robbery Dean doubted that the cops would have skipped the search. Still, he had to check just in case. He flicked the flashlight on and reached into the cab and opened the glove box. Inside was a button on the roof of the glove box that activated the secret compartment that held their fathers weaponry. He pushed it in and then stepped back.

Approaching the back of the car he saw Sam standing there waiting for the compartment to slide forward and open.

"Thought you wanted to get some rest?" Dean asked, holding the torch up, shining the light at the back of the truck.

Sam shrugged. "Yeah, well, two eyes are better than one. Besides I think this is something we should both do."

Dean gave him a tight smile. John was Sam's father too and Dean was secretly glad that Sam was there beside him. They had lost so much and when their father had died Dean had realised for the first time how little they had to remember the man. He didn't even have a headstone. John Winchester lived on in people's memories and his journal. But now they had his truck and hopefully they would find some of their fathers stuff hidden in places that the thieves or the cops hadn't been able to find.

As expected, the weapons compartment was completely bare. There wasn't a single weapon left. Their father's whole arsenal was gone.

He heard Sam sigh beside him. "Well so much for that." Dean turned to Sam.

"Well I guess we couldn't have really expected it to still be there."

"Nah, but damn whoever helped themselves probably has enough weapons to fight off a freaking army now." Dean shut the lid and the compartment slid into place.

"Who do you think took it anyway?" Sam asked as he rounded the truck. Placing the end of the flashlight in his mouth to free up his hands Sam used the back tire as a foothold and pulled himself into the truck bed. "You think it was just some random person?"

Dean looked up at Sam from his spot on the ground, his hands on his hips. "I dunno, Sam."

"No-one had seen him for at least a year when he met up with us. Aside from Meg who else knew he was in Lincoln?"

"No-one as far as I know, I guess it could have been just some random stranger." Dean wasn't exactly sure which idea he liked the least, some random person having his father's truck or someone they knew … an enemy or maybe another hunter. "Whoever it is ended up with a lot of fire power."

While Sam was searching out the truck bed Dean lifted himself back up into the driver's seat and sat there simply looking around. There was nothing even remotely personal about the inside of the cab. There was nothing to show their father or the person who had been driving it for the past year and a half. Bringing his light down to shine on the centre console Dean flipped open the lid and as he expected found nothing. He took a breath before next opening the secret compartment where John had always hidden his fake ID's. Dean had hoped against hope that maybe whoever it was hadn't found them but just like everything else it was pretty much bare except for the white envelope sitting in the middle of the compartment.

Dean's first thoughts were that not everything of their fathers had been taken but then the question of why someone would take all of the ID's and leave one envelope behind occurred to him. He cautiously reached in and picked up the envelope. Turning it over in his hand Dean shone his light on it as he heard his brother jump out of the truck bed, his feet hitting the floor with a thud.

Dean raised his eye brows. Their last name was scrawled across the front of the envelope in cursive letters. The writing definitely wasn't John's.

The crunching of boots on gravel made Dean looked up as Sam came to stand beside him next to the open door. "There's nothing back there …" Sam trailed off as he saw the envelope in Dean's hand. "You found something? What is it?"

"I guess we're about to find out." Putting his own flashlight down now that Sam was there shining his down at the envelope Dean quickly opened it. Reaching in, he pulled out the contents to find what looked like a photo and a piece of lined paper.

Dean was met with three smiling faces, their fathers smiling face and he recognised the photo immediately. It was taken by Pastor Jim out the front of his house many, many years ago. He hadn't seen the photo itself in years but he remembered that day. It had only been a few years after their mother had been killed but it was a rare happy moment between the three of them, a rare moment that Pastor Jim had been able to catch.

"Oh wow."

Sam's voice brought him back to the present. Sam was leaning in the open door trying to get a better look at the photo in Dean's hand. It was a picture of the three of them that he hadn't seen. He didn't remember this. "God, I must have been only …"

"You were three years old."

"We look happy there." Sam observed, searching out his brothers face.

"It wasn't all bad, y'know." Dean replied in an irritated tone. "We did have some good times … even back then."

"I didn't mean that …" Sam sighed as he trailed off. "So who took the photo?"

"Pastor Jim."

"You remember that day?" Sam asked. He had come to realise that he relied on his brother a lot to recount memories of events that he just couldn't remember himself. For a lot of the early stuff he had been too young to remember.

Dean nodded. "I haven't seen this photo in years I didn't realise he'd kept it."

Sam understood his brother's surprise. He was still a little surprised that he had found his old soccer trophy in the man's storage room. Apparently their father still liked to keep them on their toes from the great beyond. "What's that?" Sam asked gesturing to the paper in his brother's hand.

Handing the photo to Sam, Dean unfolded the piece of paper. The same cursive writing was on the inside of the note. He didn't know what he had been expecting but this wasn't it.

"Well what does it say?" Sam asked, snatching the note out of Dean's hand when his brother was too slow to respond.

"Dude …" Dean complained but waited for his brother to read the note.

Enjoying the memories? There's more where this came from. Take a stab at following the clues and claim what's yours …

TBC ...

Hope you all liked that :) I PROMISE you all that there WILL be another update before Christmas Day. If I have my way there will be another update before the weekend. I hope everyone has had a wonderful weekend :)

Now for the Writers Strike Message ...

Just wanted to add a note for those fans affected by the strike and desperate
for it to end. I am including the name of a fabulous site that is supporting
our writers. This site has a listing of all of our favorite shows. Just pick
your favorite (Supernatural of course) and type in your e-mail and zip. To
save time, there is already a letter written to the heads of the networks but
feel free to personalize. We need to do our bit to help end this strike.
Please take a few seconds to show your support to the writers.

The address is below spaced out ...

Http // firedoglake . com / wga / index . php / write / compose

In case you haven't heard the negotiations have broken down and we may not
get any more Supernatural episodes beyond eppy 12 so I'm hoping the fans can
help out.

The link is also on heather03nmg's page. Thank you to her for giving us the heads up with this :) Thanks Girl :)

Tara x0x