"So," Dean began. Except it didn't much seem to be the start of anything, because the whole car dissolved into silence again. Sam glanced over, his eyes caught between the rhythmic lines along the dark road, and the tense look that had overtaken his brother's face since… God knows when. Probably since his "psychic" stuff had first flared up. If Dean knew what that'd led to-

He bit his lip. It was still too early to think about bringing that up. "Mhm?" he prompted, just barely getting his voice beyond the sound of Lock and Key.

"It didn't take you long to get that iPod."

He glanced away. "No, it didn't."

Out of his peripheral Sam could tell Dean was trying to catch his eye, but it was all still too fresh. Obviously he hadn't meant to offend his brother by installing the stupid thing. It was just…

"You don't like my music?" Dean asked, smirking, as if nothing was wrong.

But lots of things had been wrong. Listening through all of Dean's classic tapes while his brother had the wheel and Sam could recline in the passenger seat- that was proper. But hearing those songs while he drove, even from various radio stations, had been too harsh a reminder while his mind was preoccupied with demons and Ruby and blood and blood and-

No. It had all been wrong.

"I didn't want to wear 'em down while you were gone," he said softly. No glance in the side mirror was necessary to know that his smile was a cheap one.

Dean shrugged. "Whatever keeps you in the fight."

He gulped, wondering if Dean would stick by that idea.