We're back, happy Sunday! Just a disclaimer, I know nothing about cars, so sorry if any of that information is wrong. Thanks to Celtic Knot, Bjester74, onanickle, Western Gal, and TXKimsonFan for your amazing reviews. You guys have no idea how happy it made me that you enjoyed the chapter :) hopefully this one is received similarly.
Still don't own Supernatural (so I can't claim I had any part in the amazing past two episodes. Scoobynatural, who else loved it as much as I did?)
Dean wasn't quite sure how long they sat like that, arm in arm, but Sam wasn't breaking away and Dean wasn't about to initiate it. His head was quite honestly pounding with the new information, and again he cursed the stupid amnesia for putting them in this position. He didn't ask for anything else other than Sam's 'it was bad'.
Maybe it would come to him in a dream, or in a flash, or never. Maybe it was better to not remember how Charlie, a woman who was like a 'little sister' to them, had been killed. Maybe, maybe, maybe, his whole freaking life was filled with maybes.
But not Sam. Sam and Cas, they were the solid rocks upon which his castle crumbled and would be rebuilt.
When they finally did pull back, Dean's hand lingered on his brother's shoulder. It was evident by the way Sam's eyes kept searching for something, anything, from his posture to the way his shoulders slumped to the way his face was fallen…reliving the memories hadn't done him any good. But maybe talking about it had. He seemed sad, sure, but maybe a bit…lighter? Either that or Dean's little brother reading skills had been failing as of late, which even in his state, he doubted. He eventually dropped his hand and Sam ran a palm across his face, as if wiping away the last remnants of the memory.
It was pretty clear that neither of them would be getting any more sleep, not that Dean had gotten much in the first place. They continued to sit in silence until Sam broke it by standing up from his bed, a gesture which Dean mimicked. "Sam?" he asked carefully, just another check to see if things were okay in any way, shape, or form.
Sam cast him the smallest of smiles, he was at least trying to be reassuring. "Follow me," he simply said, and didn't provide any other information. He walked out of the room, down the hallway, and Dean followed in sock-clad feet. Sam led them to the garage and flicked on the lights. The cars were immediately illuminated, and in the warm light Dean could clearly see that Baby was in need of a wash. He felt bad for not having noticed it when he had taken her before, a few hours driving and then sitting in the dust had led to some being stuck to her normally dark, glossy exterior.
"Why are we here?" Dean ventured. He didn't have shoes or keys, and neither did Sam, they'd have to go back inside if Sam wanted to go for a drive, which they often did and Dean wouldn't be opposed to.
Sam made his way over to some of the shelves in the corner and came back with a decent sized box, which he passed off to Dean. Dean held it with one hand and looked through with the other, seeing various liquids and other tools that could be used to change the oil and other running fluids in a vehicle.
"You mentioned needing to get her oil changed before we left on our last hunt, that you'd do it after we got back from it since it came up so quickly," Sam started his explanation. "You went out and got everything beforehand, so we'd have it when you got back, but it didn't pan out…" he trailed off.
"Because you got hurt," Dean finished. The image of Sam's fresh scars immediately came to Dean's mind. That was one memory he figured he'd always have, though the memory of the event itself still remained hidden from his reach.
"Exactly," Sam nodded. "Then the thing with the Brits came up, then…but she could still use a tune-up. So…if you wanted, I don't know, something to work on?" he said it as a question, when he knew that Dean would take him up on it immediately.
It wasn't just something to work on. It was a sense of normalcy that was so seldom present in their lives as of late. It was an opportunity to actually do something productive that he knew how to do. It was muscle memory and actual memory combined. It was a chance to clear his head and sort through what had happened, and it never worked better than when he was working on the car, and Sam knew it. So hells yes, Dean would take Sam up on it.
Dean nodded, and with a faint smile, set the box down next to the Impala's front wheel. "Thanks, Sammy," he said genuinely. Sam nodded back, obviously happy that Dean had agreed with his idea.
They both walked back into the bunker in silence, where Sam mentioned about going on a run, his preferred method of clearing his head, and Dean grabbed his boots from his room. They parted ways again in the map room, Sam heading up the stairs and out into the world, Dean continuing on to the garage with a few work towels slung over his shoulder.
"Hey, Baby," he greeted her casually, and rapped his knuckles lightly on the hood of the car before he slid the box over. "Let's fix you up, hm?" He popped open the hood and just in taking a quick peek, he was happy to see that his present/future self still took impeccable care of the irreplaceable car. Dean had expected nothing else.
Dean filled some of the silence with a few tunes hummed under his breath while working, or filled some of it with speaking. Baby was a good listener, after all, and after so many years together, she knew Dean as well as Sam did. Call him crazy or whatever, but it eased him in the slightest to talk through a few things with something familiar that wouldn't judge him this way or that. The rest of the time, he just let silence fill both his head and the garage.
He did a total oil change, as he knew how to do like the back of his hand, added water in for the wipers, replaced the coolant, and generally gave the rest of the engine a tune-up. When he finished, the car still needed a wash, but her engine was as good as it would ever get.
But before the wash…another slight thing that had irked him. The doors always squeaked, but it was slightly worse on the passenger side than it had been in a while. Maybe she had been dinged or something had shifted, but Dean got down on the ground to make sure that nothing was amiss other than a screw needing tightening or some oil needing to be administered. He opened and closed the door a few times and determined that it was on the bottom hinge. After some repositioning, he wedged himself between the door and the car itself and tightened whatever screws held the door in place. He moved, opened the closed the door, put some oil on it, opened it again, and the squeak had faded to its normal amount.
"If only everything else were so easy to fix," he said quietly, even though Baby was the only one there to hear him. He patted the bottom of the seat next to him, but didn't yet move to get up. He sat on the floor, legs stretched under the open passenger door, back up against the passenger side seat and metal exterior, and let out a sigh.
Had Charlie ever ridden in the Impala? If they were as close as Sam said, she must have, which meant that the car had more memories of the flame haired woman than Dean did. It was an odd thing to think about.
Had Lisa and Ben been in the car? Not since he could remember. As soon as he got to the house, Baby had gone into the shed. Dean convinced himself that it was because she needed fixing after she had broken a few of his falls that Lucifer had dished out, but that wasn't it. He could replace a windshield in a day with the right materials, paint scratches in hours, and have the metal un-dented before day two was done and then she'd be drivable again. But that wasn't it.
It was the fact that after Cas flew back to heaven, Dean was left with an empty passenger seat, one that would never and could never be filled again.
Or so he thought.
So Baby had gone into Lisa's empty side garage with a tarp over her until…well, Dean didn't quite know. He had to have taken her out at some point. Sitting next to the car, he liked to think that Lisa and Ben had been in it. Maybe they'd taken her out for a few spins, or hell, maybe even a day trip if things were really looking up. Maybe he'd shown Ben a few things to do with the engine like he had shown Sam those years ago. And here Dean was, back to the uncertain maybes until his brain could give him the information to turn the maybes into positive or negative facts.
Nothing like some car work to get the wheels in his brain turning again. The floor wasn't quite as comfortable as it had once been, which made him wonder how long he had been sitting there. He had half a mind to get up, wash off the car, and head back inside…but he could sit a few more minutes.
Or he would have, if he hadn't heard quiet footsteps coming up the stairs to the garage. Dean expected it to be Sam, back from his run, and was somewhat surprised when he heard Cas' voice.
"Dean?" the angel called. He had paused at the top of the stairs, probably surveying the area, seeing as how the driver's side faced the door, so Dean was hidden from view.
"Other side, Cas," Dean spoke up, not wanting to worry him.
Cas' boots sounded on the cement before he appeared around the trunk of the car, where Dean looked at him. "I apologize for interrupting, Sam mentioned you were here, and after he returned from his run we made breakfast-"
"And Sam sent you to summon me for a pancake?" Dean asked, a slight smile on his lips.
"Yes, he did," Cas nodded back. "Is everything alright?" he was looking between the car and Dean.
"Hm? Yeah, her engine's sparkling, and I fixed up a squeaky hinge, she's as good as she'll ever be," Dean replied, but Cas was still looking at him. So the question had been mostly directed at him, then. "Just thinking, Cas."
"About anything in particular?" Cas ventured a few steps closer. After a few moments of gazing down on Dean from six feet above, Cas made the decision to sit down against the car next to Dean.
The hunter shrugged. "What's there not to think about?"
"Sam mentioned Charlie when I asked about it. That must have been a…heavy conversation to have, I am sorry for all these realizations that you are being faced with, Dean." His face was one of slight sorrow, and it was there that Dean realized Charlie had probably been a friend to Cas too.
Before Dean could reply, Cas continued, his eyes watching the light bounce off one of the older cars in the garage. "And I am sorry that I can not do more to help. Usually, head trauma like this, I would be able to fix, but in the past few years, it has not been possible. Scrapes and bruises I can help with, but this type of centralized, serious damage I can not heal, Dean," he said, and looked back to Dean. The sorrow had morphed into regret.
"Hey, Cas, it's nothing to be sorry about," Dean assured, and shifted ever so slightly so he didn't have to crane his neck quite as much. "You're doing as much as you can, Sam too, that's all you guys can do, and I do appreciate it," he made sure to annunciate it, as if that alone would help Cas understand it. He still didn't know the story behind why Cas couldn't heal like he used to, but that didn't really matter, because the angel was still by his side where he could help.
"I still wish I could assist more," Cas admitted with a slight shake of his head.
Dean was silent for a few moments. "You wanna help?"
Cas' head turned up at that and he nodded, as if eager to do anything that could assist in some capacity.
"I need to finish washing the car, then grab breakfast, you up for that?" he asked.
Cas thought for a few seconds before he looked back at Dean, puzzled. "I'm afraid I don't know how to properly wash a car by hand."
Dean let out a laugh at that, he should have figured. "It's not hard, I'll show you," he offered, to which Cas nodded. The angel got up first, and gave Dean a hand to leverage himself up from the awkward position between the door and the car itself.
Dean then gave Cas the full run down. Buckets, water, soap, sponges, how to wipe it in circles (he may have used a Karate Kid line that Cas was somehow familiar with, which Dean would have to ask about later). Dean found a hose off to the side and used it to spray down the Impala, which they both then dried off.
In half the time, they were done, and once again the Impala was sparkling, and looked much better than she had started off. Dean carried the buckets and sponges to one of the garage's sinks and left them there, as he'd get it all put back eventually.
"Thanks for the help, Cas," he made sure to say when he came back to the car, which Cas seemed to be admiring.
The angel smiled a bit back at him, apparently happy that while he hadn't directly been able to help Dean's condition, maybe he had been able to ease his mental state in the slightest, and that counted for something.
"Now, breakfast?" Cas nodded back at the question and Dean clapped a hand onto his shoulder before he turned and headed down the stairs into the rest of the bunker.
Sam, having return from his run, taken a shower, and cooked in the time Dean had spent in the garage, had a stack of pancakes waiting when they returned, plates and syrup already on the table.
"Car repairs go okay?" Sam asked as he got a few cups of coffee onto the table as well, shooting Dean and Cas a glance.
Dean nodded in affirmation. "Baby is squeaky clean and ready to go," he answered before he took a seat at the table and began dragging a few pancakes onto his plate. Sam brought over Dean's meds with the coffee before he too sat down, Cas following suit.
"That's good to hear," Sam replied, with a genuine smile on his face. Finally, something they could actually fix for the better. Both brothers were a bit more at ease following their preferred methods of clearing their heads. They settled into an easy back and forth across the table and one by one, pancakes disappeared, until they did 'not it' on who had to do the dishes. The sense of normal didn't cover up what had just happened hours before, but it served to smooth over a few things and assure everyone in the room that things would more or less work out.
The next few hours were spent like many others: getting Dean caught up on shows and movies he had "missed". Of course, Sam knew which ones Dean liked so those were brought up first, and while none triggered memories, they were all still enjoyable. Though, in the routine of it all, Dean found himself getting antsy again, like there was more he should have been doing. Hunting, for now, was out of the question, at least for another few weeks. Sam had made it clear, Cas had agreed, and neither was budging on the stance, so Dean knew better than to argue.
But still, being cooped up in the bunker wasn't doing any of them much good. Sure, it was for a good reason, but still. So, after the third movie of the day ended and darkness had settled, Dean announced that he was going out, and got up to get his boots on.
"Going out? Where?" Sam asked immediately, seeing how Dean's last outing had turned out. At least they were given prior warning this time.
"A place," Dean said simply with a shrug of his shoulders.
"A noncommittal answer in a situation like this is not advised, Dean," Cas reminded, also on the fence about Dean's suggestion.
"You guys are coming with, so quit nagging and get your shoes on, we're wheels up in five." Dean left them, somewhat confused and looking to each other for answers, in the room while he walked back out to the garage. He made a pit stop in his room first and grabbed a few extra jackets in case they needed them with the cold night air.
He had seen a place when Sam was driving them back to the bunker after his previous outing. It wasn't far, or anything really special, but it had sprung an idea in his head. Maybe they had done it recently, maybe not, but it couldn't hurt. And besides, his gleaming Baby deserved to be out in the world.
He slid behind the driver's seat and smirked to himself. When the promised five minutes were up, both Sam and Cas were back in the car. Sam hadn't said anything about the passenger door, but Dean had seen the ghost of a smile on his face when he opened and closed it to a softer squeak than it had been before.
"So…this destination a secret or something?" Sam again tried, the smile having faded to something more serious. Dean didn't want to drag him along, but a surprise meant no telling.
"Relax, Sammy," which probably wasn't a good suggestion, "it takes like five minutes to get there. You guys don't like it, we'll turn around and put on Pirates number…how many did they make?"
"Stopped counting after the mermaid one," Sam replied with a sigh, having acquiesced to Dean's 'surprise' outing. Cas, meanwhile, was silent in the backseat, watching the exchange go down.
Dean turned the Impala on and waited just a moment, listening to the engine, before he threw her into drive and got out of the bunker's garage. Outside, it was just as he had hoped: clear winter skies. The drive only lasted a few minutes before Dean pulled off down a small, dirt road that really led nowhere but stopped by a fairly flat field. He parked the car and looked to Sam, who seemed to have some inkling of what was going on, but the angel in the backseat didn't.
"I fail to see the importance of this outing, Dean. We are surrounded by dirt and dead grass," Cas said, and tilted his head a bit as he tried to figure it out.
"That's 'cause you haven't looked up yet," Dean replied with a smirk. He tossed an extra jacket at Sam, who took it but didn't yet put it on, and got out of the car. His breath made puffs in the air as he came around to the trunk of the Impala and leaned against it with a sigh.
The sky was what he missed most while being cooped up in the bunker. There was no direct line to the sun or the stars above them that he had so often looked at while driving. While the car could seem confining at times, it was always reassuring that the world was spinning on, right outside the windows.
Sam was next to join him about a minute later, and leaned up against the trunk next to Dean. They were both silent for a moment. "You know, we haven't done this in a while," he brought up quietly, as if a louder voice would break the peace around them.
"Why not?" Dean asked simply, not turning his gaze away from the stars.
He heard Sam's jacket shift as he shrugged. "Been a crazy past few months, not much time to spend outside." He didn't elaborate, but it was clear by the way he too looked up at the sky that he had missed it.
Cas finally got out of the car and joined the Winchesters by the trunk. Hands inside his pockets, he too tipped his head back to look at the stars. The slight breeze that blew past them ruffled the grass and twigs around them and served to clear away any clouds that otherwise would have covered the expanse of the sky.
Away from most of the major cities and the light pollution that came with them, the stars lit up the night in a wide array of brightly colored pinholes poked through the darkness. They were endless.
"This view…it is different than it was in heaven," Cas said quietly a few minutes later, "but it is no less spectacular." He now understood the importance of the outing, and just like the Winchester brothers, stood with his head tilted towards the sky, enjoying the reminder that the universe went on, even when behind closed doors it sometimes appeared to be cracking apart at the seams.
I'm trying to keep the story from dragging, so hopefully it isn't. It's a lot of slowly putting the pieces back together, this isn't a quick fix. I tried to put a bit more Cas in because he's been a bit lacking as of late. And the star scene, no explanation for that, it's just one of my favorite images/moments/headcanon things from the show. Thanks for reading!