"And when it was clear, they'd park her in the middle of nowhere, sit on the hood, and watch the stars… for hours… without saying a word. It never occurred to them that, sure, maybe they never had a roof and four walls but they were never, in fact, homeless."
Sam stared out of the passenger window of the Impala, having no idea where they were or where they were going. Previously, he had been playing a game on one of his phones, but he gave up a few minutes ago when he ran out of lives. Dean had turned off the music some time ago, but Sam couldn't recall the last song they had listened to. As he stared at the stars above, his brain kicked in to 'survival mode,' identifying constellations and directions like a sailor lost at sea. This skill had been drilled in his head at a very young age.
He had just identified the constellation Pegasus and figured they were heading south when Dean turned left onto a narrow dirt road that led absolutely nowhere. Dean unbuckled his seatbelt and slid out of the car. Knowing just what was going on, Sam did the same. Going round back, he popped the trunk and dug through a heap of weapons until he found a small cooler of beer. Opening it, he pulled out two bottles and handed one to Dean. They sat together on the hood of the Impala and watched the stars.
They had done this a few times before, usually when Dean was upset or had something bothering him. Sam could always tell when something was up, but he didn't always ask. He didn't want to pry. Besides, Dean would always deny that there was ever anything troubling him.
So Sam leaned back, took a swig of beer, and stared at the speckled sky. Deciding they'd be here a while, he turned off survival mode and let his thoughts wander. He remembered hearing somewhere that in the Dark Ages it was believed that stars were chinks in the floor of heaven. Of course, that wasn't true, but it was a nice thought.
Hours later, they set off again, coming from nowhere and heading to a different nowhere. Sam doesn't worry about Dean driving; he can't even remember the last time his older brother had been drunk. Instead, he rested his head on the passenger window of the car, letting the cool surface chill his forehead and cheek and his breath fog up the glass. They both slept in the Impala that night.