Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and WB. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while!

Set after Asylum (I'm pretending their father didn't call at the end of the episode!) and set before Scarecrow. Enjoy!

Thanks for all the lovely reviews - its lovely to see that people are enjoying the story. Thank you.

BROTHERS

by Eryn Grant

CHAPTER SIX
Dean and Frank

Dean didn't look over his shoulder as Sam roared off in the Impala. He hadn't even threatened Sam with all manner of torture if he damaged his car. He felt too miserable. Moving around to the back of the diner, Dean checked to his left and right that nobody was in sight. He dropped his holdall on the ground with a sigh as he looked over to the shiny red Impala. Nothing would ever replace his own Impala but the car in front of him was a thing of beauty too.

In his mind, Dean could see the beautiful car being engulfed by flames as he stood by watching. He could almost hear the crackling of the fire, smell the burning leather and metal as the car disintegrated and burned before his eyes. He could imagine himself standing next to the charred twisted remains of the Impala and he shivered at the thought. He sighed to himself. Dean knew that Sam was right but it didn't make what he was about to do any easier. He liked Frank. And the Impala, well it would be like burning his own car. He shivered again at the thought.

Dean sighed again picking up his holdall as he moved closer. He couldn't resist one final look. He wandered around the car the finger tips of one hand carefully caressing the paintwork as he moved. Doing a full circle of the car, he bent down peering in the window looking at the perfectly kept interior. "This sucks," he said to himself as he straightened up coming face to face over the top of the car with Frank.

"Hello Dean," Frank smiled at him. "Come to look at the car again?"

"Damn," Dean thought to himself. He gave Frank a small smile. "Couldn't resist it," he lied trying frantically to think how he was going to get Frank away from the car so he could steal it and then burn it. He groaned inwardly at the thought.

Frank beamed at him. "Are you OK Dean?" he asked frowning. "You look a bit pale." Frank moved around the car to stand next to him.

"I'm fine," Dean gave Frank another small smile.

Frank nodded. He stared at Dean biting at his lip. He took a deep breath gathering all his courage. "You believe me don't you?" he stuttered nervously.

Dean frowned at Frank not immediately understanding. "Believe you about what?" he asked his mind still on coming up with plan to steal the car.

"The ghost," Frank answered. "You and your brother believed me when I talked about the ghost and the road." Dean raised his eyes in surprise and Frank smiled at him. "You didn't look at me funny that first time in the diner. Then you asked me about it when we went out back and you... you looked serious. And I dreamed you did," he creased his brow for a moment. "At least I think it was a dream," Frank shrugged. "But sometimes I get all confused... so I never know," he looked into the distance lost in his thoughts. "He said you could help."

"Who said?" Dean asked confused by Frank's ramblings.

"David," Frank looked back to Dean. "At least I think it was David. It... it sounded like him."

"David talked to you?" Dean said as he leaned on the Impala.

"Yes... no... I think so," Frank looked confused. "I dream about him all the time. Hannah doesn't know," he rattled on. "She just gets upset. So I don't tell her."

"Frank," Dean said gently deciding to ignore his promise to Hannah. "You know what happened to David, don't you?" Frank turned away. "You were there. Paul Johnson wasn't the only witness was he?" Dean held his breath. He could almost feel the older man fighting with his thoughts and hidden memories. Frank turned back to Dean. Tears were in his blue eyes and Dean immediately regretted asking him questions. "It's OK. You don't have to tell me," Dean soothed.

"No," Frank replied. "It's about time. It's been over forty years," he wiped at the tears and nodded slowly. "And I know you'll believe me. Won't think I'm some kind of nutcase." He nodded slowly. "Yes I was there."

"What happened?" Dean asked quietly.

Frank took a deep breath. "Paul Johnson never really saw what happened. He was out of it. Knocked out when his head hit his windscreen," he sniffed wiping at his tears again. "Steven and Paul were racing their cars up on Lake Road. David found out and he was really mad. He hated Steven racing. Said someone would get hurt. It was one of the things they always fought about," he looked at Dean who nodded at him to continue. "David and me went up to Lake Road in the Impala looking for Steven." Frank bit at his lip.

"Go on," Dean encouraged gently.

"We got up there and David told me to stay in the car. He made me promise to look after the Impala while he was gone. Anyway, we could see them coming up over the hill. Steven was winning as usual. Then he side swiped Paul's car. Paul went off the road and I think that's when he knocked himself out," Frank took another deep breath. "David got out to flag Steven down. Make him stop. Tear him off a strip. But... but it was dark," Frank's tears were flowing freely again and he wiped at them frustrated. "And ... and Steven never saw him... until it was too late."

"You mean," Dean's mouth dropped open in shock. "Steven hit David with his car?" Dean suddenly knew who the spirit was on Lake Road and why he was angry and bitter. He started to worry a little knowing that Sam was up on the road alone. Dean turned back to Frank listening as the older man finished his story.

"Yes," Frank stuttered. "I saw the car hit David and he... he flew up in the air and went over the cliff. But it was an accident," Frank shivered. "Steven didn't mean it. I know he didn't."

"I'm sure he didn't," Dean soothed.

"I saw Steven get out of his car and run to the edge of the cliff," Frank said. "I thought he was going to jump. But he just screamed David's name over and over and fell to the ground screaming."

Dean nodded. "Why didn't you tell anyone about what happened?"

"I was too frightened," Frank stammered. "I just panicked and drove away. And Steven never knew that I had seen the accident," Frank looked into the distance.

"Go on," Dean encouraged.

"Then the sheriff got involved because my mother reported David missing." Frank turned back to look at Dean. "The sheriff came and questioned Steven because Paul Johnson said he remembered seeing David up on Lake Road but he couldn't remember anything else. They searched but never found a body and assumed that David had either fallen or jumped so the sheriff closed the case," Frank sighed. "And Steven kept quiet. But then he just went kinda crazy. Like the guilt got to him. Doing crazy stuff. Driving too fast. Drinking. Nobody could talk to him and I didn't want him to know that I knew... and then... then he killed himself and I didn't want anyone to think that Steven killed David on purpose. I just wanted them to be remembered for who they were. They were great... kind and fun," he shrugged looking at Dean earnestly. "I know it sounds stupid but ... but the years just went by and no-one ever asked. Not even Hannah. So I didn't say anything."

Dean looked into the distance not able to imagine the years of pain and misery Frank had endured. His worry about Sam was increasing by the moment and he quickly went over his options in his mind. "Frank," he said gently.

"It's Steven up there isn't it?" Frank interrupted.

"I think so," Dean confirmed.

"I think I always knew," Frank said sadly. He looked around him. "But I always felt that David was here. It's like he's with me all the time. And not just in my dreams."

Dean started to pace up and down. "Frank," he stopped in front of the older man. "I want you to listen to me. And not say anything until I'm done. OK?"

Frank nodded giving Dean a small smile. "OK," he agreed.

Dean took a deep breath. "My brother and I hunt ghosts and a million other creepy kind of crap." He put his hand up as Frank opened his mouth to say something. "Why's not important. We just do." Frank nodded and remained silent. "We can lay Steven's spirit to rest but I need your help."

"How?" Frank asked.

Dean put his hands on his hips hating what he was going to say next. "We need to get rid of everything that belonged to Steven. And I mean everything," he looked past Frank to the Impala.

Horror filled Frank's face as he turned looking at the Impala knowing, deep down, what Dean meant. "No," he croaked putting both hands protectively on the car. Frank stroked his hands possessively over the paint work. He had promised David he would look after the car. It was his only link with the cousin he loved and the pain of losing the car was too great.

"Look Frank," Dean argued. "I know this is hard. It's hard for me too. But it has to be done. Sam and me looked it up. We need to help Steven. So he doesn't hurt anyone else. And the only way we can do that is getting rid of stuff that belonged to him. And go up to Lake Road and do some chants and throw some special herbs," he explained. "Then Steven can rest." He started to pace again. "Sam's up at Lake Road handling the book and herb stuff." He stopped in front of Frank again pleading silently with the man.

Frank stared at Dean studying the young man carefully. He could see that what he had suggested hurt him and Frank glanced back towards the car. "So what do we do?" he asked his voice cracking slightly.

"I'll take the car," Dean pronounced each syllable carefully so Frank understood that he didn't have to come along. "And swing by and check on Sam. Then," he let his words linger on the air.

"No," Frank said determined. "I'm coming too. I have avoided that road for over forty years. And it's about time I put the past where it belongs... in the past. And as for the car," he waved his hand at the Impala. "I need to be there. For David."

"OK," Dean nodded. "As long as you're sure." Frank glanced at the Impala and nodded.

"So you never went back up there?" Dean asked changing the subject. "Ever."

Frank shook his head. "No never. And neither has the Impala. I just couldn't bring myself to go up there after...well you know."

Dean nodded in sympathy as he pushed his holdall into the back seat of the car. "You wanna drive?" he cocked his head at Frank.

Frank shivered taking a step backwards. "No," he replied. "I can't. I'll come with you. But I'll leave the driving to you," he tossed the keys at Dean.

Dean slid into the driving seat as Frank cautiously lowered himself into the passenger seat. Dean turned the ignition and smiled reassuringly at Frank. He gunned the engine and headed the car out onto the road.

"It'll be OK," Dean reassured his nervous passenger.

"The car didn't really belong to Steven," Frank said quietly. "David's father gave it to him when he got his licence. Was the only kind thing that his old man ever did for him."

Dean looked confused turning sideways to look at Frank. "So the Impala didn't belong to both of them?"

"Yes and no," Frank replied. "Steven owned a Mustang that he used for racing. And David had the Impala. But they both drove the Impala. Sort of shared it as it came from them father. David thought it was only fair. But David loved it the most. It was his baby," he smiled at Dean. "But I think it was special because his father gave it to him."

Dean nodded in understanding. "This could change things," he gave a small smile. "We'll see what Sam has to say." Dean wondered if David had somehow become trapped in the Impala the night he died. It made a sort of sense to him. He loved the car. Dean knew that if he was going to be trapped as a ghost or spirit he would want to be in his Impala. Or with his brother, he admitted to himself. Dean looked across at Frank feeling sad because in a way Frank had been just as trapped as Steven and David his whole life ending when they had died.

He pressed his foot down on the gas pedal feeling the familiar roar of the engine as his speed increased. He smiled to himself feeling at home in the car. Dean hoped that with the car really belonging to David that he wouldn't have to burn the Impala. He just hoped that Sam would agree with him. He sighed and concentrated on the road ahead. "Thank you," a voice whispered in his head. Dean shook his head and turned towards Frank. Frank was staring distractedly out of the window lost in his own thoughts.

"The car is not talking to me," Dean repeated in his head over and over.

To be continued...