Happy Sunday! I'm trying to keep updates to weekly on weekends, but we'll see once school gets started. Thank you all so much for the support so far! This story takes a few chapters of set up, but stick with me and you'll see what's in store ;) Thanks again, have a good rest of your day!

Still don't own Supernatural.

November 10, 8:30am

"Dude, seriously?"

"Yes, Sam, seriously."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because-" Dean cut himself off, closing the door to the car after he had thrown his carry on in the back seat, "no way in hell am I leaving her in an airport parking lot in New York for a few days. No way."

He had made the executive decision to not take Baby with him to the airport, which meant no cassette tape deck for music and no familiar car, but it was better than having her be broken into or scratched up or have something else preventable happen.

"Are you absolutely positive? I'm fine with other cars."

Dean looked up at Sam and shook his head. "Yeah, you're fine with other cars, but you're not driving in your condition, so it doesn't matter. I'm taking a back-up, end of story," Dean said, his tone conveying that the argument was closed.

He began walking back into the bunker from the garage, but not so fast that Sam couldn't walk beside him comfortably.

"Okay, if you won't take the Impala, at least take this," Sam said when they got back to the map room. He picked up Dean's phone from the table and a set of earbuds and passed them over.

"Yeah, I was planning on taking my phone," Dean nodded slowly, not seeing what he was getting at.

Sam rolled his eyes and smirked. "And music. I loaded a bunch of songs I could find on there for you to listen to."

He didn't say that it was to combat the flying anxiety, since humming was what had calmed him down last time. He didn't say that it was to make the whole experience easier and to make up for his own absence in it. But both of those sentiments were reflected in the otherwise simple sounding explanation.

"I mean, no cassette tapes, and I know how you hate all the new music on the radio," he halfheartedly explained, which was a true statement in itself.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean muttered, but he quirked his brother an appreciative smile anyways and slipped the items into his jacket pockets. He had holy water, salt, and some other small necessities with him, but he couldn't bring any of the big guns with him. He was just hoping that there were no demons planning on derailing the flight this time.

Dean rolled up his sleeve to check his watch and nodded. "Should probably hit the road, I hear check in takes a while. And traffic. This sounds like fun already," Dean muttered.

Sam only nodded. "Text me when you're at the airport and when you land," Sam reminded, as if Dean had forgotten the first five times he had told him.

"Will do. Flight 523, from New York to London, leaves at six in the afternoon," Dean informed. "I put it on a little sticky note by the computer in case your lazy brain forgets," he added with a smirk. "And Cas texted, said he should be here in six hours or so. You good?" Dean asked, eyes leveling with Sam.

"I can handle myself for six hours, Dean, I'm not doing much."

Dean nodded back and sighed. "Well alright then. I guess I'll see you in a few days." Normally, there would have been a quick send off hug or something, but given Sam's injury, he opted to put a hand on his shoulder and smile before he dropped it and turned to leave.

"Watch yourself," Sam added.

"Always do, Sammy, it's just a pressurized flying tube, no big deal," Dean brushed off, sending him another look before he started the walk back down to the garage.

Dean was used to taking back roads, so the beginning half of his drive wasn't too bad. He ended up turning on the radio for an hour or so to see what he could get, and sure, some of the music was decent, but it wasn't the same. He eventually gave up and put his phone in the cup holder, playing some of the tunes that Sam had gratefully downloaded.

At his first pit stop six hours later, he texted to make sure Sam was okay, and after being assured that he was and the car again had gas, Dean was back on the lonely road. It wasn't that he wasn't used to it, it was just…strange, he so often travelled with Sam or Cas that having the passenger seat empty was strange.

Then again, Sam being a passenger the last two times hadn't exactly been easy, it had taken Dean hours to get the blood off the seats…

And he cranked the music up again. He didn't need to think about that any more, Sam was fine, he was always fine, he would always be fine as long as Dean could make sure of it. He completed the next six hour leg with that mentality in mind.

November 10, 11:30pm

"Not interrupting any beauty sleep am I?" Dean asked once he had stopped at a motel for the night, and kicked his boots up onto the bed.

"Dude, it's only eleven, I'm not a kid anymore," Sam shot back, but Dean could hear the smile in his voice.

"I told Cas to put you to bed by ten."

There was some rustling on the other end of the line, and a slightly more gravely voice replied, "you did no such thing when we last talked…or texted, I am fairly certain nothing was said about bed times."

"Just no staying up into the morning painting fingernails and braiding Sam's hair."

"I don't own any…Sam do you own any nail polish?"

Dean let out an audible laugh, able to picture the angel's confused face as he looked to his brother, who was undoubtedly smiling and faintly laughing as much as he could.

"Got it Dean, quit mother henning and get some sleep."

"I'm not mother henning," Dean shot back, trying his best to sound offended. "You're the one telling me to go to sleep."

"Yeah, yeah, watch your drive," Sam said, sighing, and Dean could guess he was rolling his eyes along with it.

"Will do, I'll text when I get there. You two hold down the fort, no kitchen experiments," Dean reminded with mild seriousness.

"I assure you, we will be doing no kitchen experiments," Cas added, in complete seriousness.

Dean chuckled and shook his head. "Alright, I'll text, night." Similar sentiments were exchanged, and Dean shut the phone off, leaving it on the nightstand next to the bed.

Of course, his eyes drifted to the other bed closer to the bathroom, which was empty. The motel didn't have any single beds for some reason. And the empty bed only served to remind Dean of more what ifs…

He shut off the light, crossed his arms, and closed his eyes, but the empty bed kept mocking him, even though he had just gotten off the phone with his brother.

It was going to be a long few days.

In the end, Dean drove the last nine or so hours going on two hours of sleep, which was far from desirable. However, being stuck in New York traffic did make him appreciate the open roads much more. Even just an hour spent in wall to wall cars getting to the airport was enough to have him mentally and sometimes physically yelling at the idiots around him.

By the time he got out of the car and slung his bag over his shoulder, he was thoroughly done with the day. And he hadn't even gotten through security or to the terminal yet. Or hell, even inside the airport. And it was raining. He probably should have expected it from New York, but that didn't mean that it wasn't annoying.

He did a quick check to make sure the holy water and salt were still in the bag, which they were. The Brits would have weapons and they boasted about London being safe, so he probably wouldn't need them, but probably was still a maybe. Dean carefully rolled up the headphones and stuck them in his jacket pocket, even though they would probably get all tangled up anyways.

And he still had four hours before his flight was supposed to leave.

Dean ran a hand over his face. "This meeting had better be worth it," he muttered as he locked up the car and made his way into the airport.

So I normally reply to reviews through PMs and then guest ones at the end of the chapter. If you don't like it, just let me know, and thanks for the feedback!

Guest: Awh thanks, hope you enjoyed reading it! :)