Her Boys
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If the Impala had truly been that flesh and blood black panther that she reminded one of, she would have been purring contentedly at that moment.
Dean had just washed and waxed her paintwork until she gleamed, then filled her capacious petrol tank to the brim and parked
her in this comfortable shady spot in the diner's parking lot.
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God bless that boy, nobody could give her a waxing like he could.
Sam of course had sat back, nose immersed in a book as Dean worked up an appetite making her glow like a black diamond, quite happy for his brother to have exclusive rights on prettying her up.
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The parking lot belonged to a Biggerson's Restaurant; Dean loved the food there and had fond memories of the free meals for a
year that they had won as the restaurant's one millionth customers, thanks to one really ambiguous rabbit's foot!
She watched them lazily through the diner's large windows, content with the fact that for the time being no danger was
threatening them.
They were sitting across from each other, brothers and best friends, talking animatedly and occasionally laughing at some stupid
remark, usually Dean's.
He loved to see Sam unleash that sun-filled smile of his, happy to play the fool if that's what it took to keep him from
brooding on Hell and on that damn flimsy wall that Death had put up in his sibling's head.
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The Impala's metal heart warmed.
Her boys were so wrapped up in one another, it was unbelievable; each was the other's entire world.
Oh, they saved people on a daily basis, most of the time in incognito and very often without receiving thanks of any kind for
having endangered their own lives for complete strangers, but still that was their mission and they just kept on going, having no
other ambition now than saving as many innocents as they could before that inevitable moment when they themselves would
become the victims, and their hunting legacy would pass on to someone else.
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She sighed.
She would have wanted so much more for her beautiful boys, but after everything she had witnessed she didn't hold out great
hopes of hosting any more little Winchesters on her leather seats. Fate however, always has a way of surprising you and no-one
could really know what the future had in store for Sam and Dean.
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This period was all in all a happy time for them, but she had shared in so many unhappy ones; when she and Dean had roared to
the crossroads and the distraught boy had sold his soul for his little brother's life, or when Sam was alone for six desperate
months because of the Trickster's cruel way of trying to teach him that he would have to live on alone without his brother when
Dean was dragged to Hell.
Only two of so many terrible moments, but perhaps the worst of all was in Stull Cemetery while Dean had been forced to watch his little brother throw himself voluntarily into the Cage to stop the Apocalypse.
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Dean was destroyed after that.
He spent hours just sitting inside her, head bowed down on her steering wheel, crying his eyes out for his brother; for the torture at the hands of Lucifer that he knew would be Sam's fate for the rest of eternity; and for himself, destined to live out what remained of his life without the other half of his soul.
But it was that self-same thought that had re-animated him, and he had driven her all the way to Lisa's repeating over and overthat he wouldn't stop until he got Sam out of the Cage.
Any promises he had made to Sam were worthless if they went against Sam's well- being!
The Impala's poor heart which had broken along with Dean's, took hope in the thought that he was ready to do anything to get
his brother back.
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But she had some good memories too.
The two of them when they were younger, curled up on her back seat together like two sleeping puppy dogs.
John hadn't been as attentive to her needs as Dean was now, and at times her heating system had been on the blink, and the only warmth had come from their huddled bodies and an old blanket that John would throw over them.
Then there was the way they found pleasure in small things; the giggling and laughter they shared even although they owned nothing that normal kids had, substituting guns and knives for the toys and games of their acquaintances.
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She often wondered how their life would have been if John had opted for a different path; had chosen to give his boys an easier
life, a home, friends maybe even remarried and given Sam and Dean other siblings.
Would they have still been as inseparable and shackled to one another by those invisible chains that were invisible to everyone
except to her?
Well, there was no point in dwelling on what might have been.
The brothers were what life and destiny had moulded them to be; separate but indivisible.
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She settled down pleasurably to wait for her charges to finish.
She was getting on in years and a little rest now and then was welcome, but that didn't mean she couldn't rise to the occasion when necessary, her tough steel body and powerful engine always at the ready to serve her boys.
"Semper fidelis" was HER motto too; those prissy Marines had nothing on her! She was a bona-fide assistant ghost-buster!
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Sometime later, she cocked an ear as she heard the droning of boys' approaching voices.
Sam was bitching to Dean about bolting down his food in an unhealthy manner and talking with his mouth full, causing his brother to snark back about Sam's absurd preference for limp rabbit food and how the hell he managed to keep his gigantor body upright, feeding only on that green stuff.
"That's not true, Dean! I eat meat too, just not those cholesterol-filled greasy burgers that you devour," she heard Sam retort
clearly now, as he curled a hand around her door-handle.
"Shut up, bitch," was Dean's educated reply as he rounded the hood to get to the driver's side, "Hamburgers are God."
If she had been blessed with eyes, she would have rolled them; just another normal day in the life of her beloved Winchester
boys.
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