MOM-WHEELS
Moms come in all shapes and sizes...
Disclaimer: I don't own them
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Dean gave a soft snore; stirring slightly, causing his soft breaths to mist the passenger window. The Impala's engine purred a soothing lullaby, fuelling his much-needed nap as she powered along the dusty highway.
Later, when he was awake, Dean would take over the driving, and she'd see to it that Sam would get some shut-eye then. That boy had been looking tense lately; mind you, he was hardly the poster boy for relaxation at the best of times.
She'd done the sums, because she was clever like that, and she'd worked it out so that she'd run low on fuel exactly when they reached that gas station about a hundred miles over She liked that one because it had a nice diner. Not for her of course, she was quite happy with a tank of decent gas, but for her boys. This diner had a hygiene rating and a couple of dishes that weren't fried, both rarities in the average roadside diner. The boys were looking too lean for her liking. They needed a good square meal; a good square meal with knives and forks and tablecloths, and maybe even a vegetable or two.
Yes Dean, she's looking at you!
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When the Winchesters lost their mother on that terrible night all those years ago, no-one knew there was a perfectly willing and able replacement waiting in the wings.
One who takes her job very seriously.
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end