Ride or Die-
Warning: Some violence in this chapter may disturb younger readers. Sorry, but if you watched this show through seasons 1-5 the canon used to be like this too.
Jack had felt the adrenaline. He wanted to hunt and he wanted to live before whatever this sickness was finally caught up with him. Which is how he ended up in a blazing Greyhound with Dean at the wheel, Sam slicing Michael hybrid Skinwalkers to bits with razor wire and the jagged end of a seat belt, and Cas trying to pluck civilians from the blazing seats.
All Jack could do was hold on to two sets of burning seat belts, trying to use his last strength to keep it together. Normally, he'd be beating himself up for how he was contributing to this situation. But this time, he was just kneeling there, holding on for dear life, awestruck by the complete savagery of the Winchesters.
It was something that he'd not been told by the stories. All their memories had been told through the lens of their bond with each other. Jack had never realized that Sam and Dean's lives had been so brutal until he saw Sam in uncensored combat this time. Blood ran from his hands as he fought with the pieces of the collapsing bus. When a Skinwalker kicked him in the face, his hands shot up and he shrieked at it, ripping pieces of the bus roof straight from the frame to slide into its face.
And Dean, Dean was driving with his feet, and shooting off the bus full of Skinwalkers with a machine gun of silver bullets. He was picking them off and killing them as Sam was holding them back from the screaming, crying people. Just long enough for Cas to pluck them free.
"Jack! 'Member them driving lessons? Get over here!"Dean shouted over open fire, jarring Jack from his stupor. Jack sluggishly slid forward to where Dean was all but bodily slamming him in front of the bus' wheel.
"Dean! I don't know how to drive a BURNING BUS!" Jack heard his own voice shouting over the sound of the backdoor blasting from the frame. Cas howled as he held the walls together.
"You're not driving, kiddo, you're crashing with style. Just hold the wheel and try to keep us on the road!" Dean pulled a knife from his boot. He grabbed Sam's shoulder from behind, linked arms with him and they used each other to propel Dean into a high fly kick.
Jack was supposed to be watching the road. But he was instead watching the Winchesters and how they turned into one machine function of clockwork violence when they were in the middle of hand-to-hand. Jack loved them. Immensely. But at this moment, he was just a little bit terrified by them too. They were juggling one knife and blazing bus parts between each other like a circus of death. Even Cas, an angel who had seen Millennia of war, had wide eyes as he watched them from his stance at the end of the bus.
Jack kept them on the road until the wheels blew out from beneath the bus. The bus pitched and rolled and skated on its side. And in that ruin of the world, the strangest sound rose up. Dean, laughing like a hyena, carefully easing civilians out the shattered windows, whilst he took silver pistols to the remnant monsters.
"Ride or die, Sammy! Woo-ah!" Dean was jeering, to the wide-eyed awe of the people he'd just saved.
To Jack's surprise, Sam's voice was completely steady of nerves when he answered back.
"Dean! The timing. We're on the clock, man!"
And to answer them all, Cas pushed a hole through the melted floorboards turned roof and let in the sun.
"Everyone stay calm and completely ignore these two. They enjoy their job a little too much."
Even as he lay there with his back to a blazing dash, pieces of glass in his hair and a melted steering wheel in his hands, Jack was smiling. What a ride his short life had been up until now. Faith of his fathers, bond of those brothers, freewill over destiny, win or lose, ride or die.