May 2, 1999
An enormous yawn made Dean's jaw click as he gathered up his books and jacket and waited for Cassie to finish chatting with her friend. The yawn morphed into a dopey grin as he watched her. He'd been seeing Cassie Robinson for a little over two months now, and sometimes he still couldn't believe that someone that smart and that hot was interested in him.
He also couldn't believe he was actually here taking business classes at Kilian. Even two years ago he'd have laughed in the face of anyone who suggested he'd be at a community college. But as Bobby's health continued to decline, Dean was taking on more and more of the responsibility of running Singer Salvage. Sam had convinced him to give these classes a go – if nothing else, it would help him keep from screwing up Bobby's business.
At first he'd been skeptical, but now he was glad Sam had pushed him. Otherwise he'd never have met Cassie. And he supposed the classes were okay, too.
She bid her friend goodbye and turned back to Dean with a bright smile that put a sparkle in her deep brown eyes. Putting a hand on his chest, she leaned up on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his lips, and he slid his fingers up into her mane of dark curls to deepen it. When she finally pulled back, she looked up at him from under coy lashes.
"Ready to go?" she asked, lacing her fingers with his.
"Hey, I've been waiting on you, lady."
Indignant, she demanded, "Are you calling me slow?"
"Who me?" He pulled his most innocent face – the one he'd stolen from Sammy.
"I'm not slow, jerk!" she insisted, trying to look stern, but spoiling it when a smile slipped out.
"I didn't say you were," he said. "But if you ever need an outlaw name, it could be Pokey Joe. You and Shannon could be Pokey Joe and the Molassas Kid."
Cassie shook her head and gave him a mock dirty look. "You're an ass."
"I have always said you have an adorable ass." He chuckled, pleased with himself.
Rolling her eyes, she scooped up her purse and books. "Ugh. You're fired."
"What? I'm hilarious."
They left the building and walked out to the Impala. Cassie smacked his hand away from the door handle like she always did whenever he tried to open the car door for her. They climbed in, and Dean started the engine with a satisfying roar. Fifteen minutes later, they pulled into Cassie's apartment complex.
She scooted across the seat for a quick goodbye make-out session. Then she gathered up her things and slid out the door. "Tell Sam happy birthday from me, okay, babe?"
Dean gave a mock salute. "Will do!"
"See you tomorrow," she said before closing the door.
Dean watched her make her way in to her building, partly to make sure she got in okay, but mostly just to watch her ass as she walked away. When she reached the door, Cassie turned to give him a little finger wave before ducking inside.
How had he gotten so lucky? This girl was way too good for him, but she seemed to like him anyway. Karma must've decided he'd done something right somewhere along the line.
He left Cassie's place and headed home. Sam had insisted Dean not skip work or classes, so they'd decided to do a birthday dinner, just the two of them, but first Dean would finally get to give Sam the gift he'd been working his ass off on for the last two years. He was dying to see the look on Sam's face when he saw the car, but his anticipatory grin was interrupted by another yawn. Between work and school and fixing up the GTO, Dean was wiped out.
Sam must have been watching for him. He barreled out of the house as soon as Dean rolled in, all legs and elbows everywhere. He piled into the car, folding all those gangly limbs away somehow.
If Sam ended up taller than him, Dean was going to be super pissed.
"Hey, Dean!" Sam greeted him with a grin.
"Happy birthday, Sammy!" Dean reached over to ruffle his hair since Sam hated it so much. "From Cassie, too. She said to tell you."
"Thanks. And tell Cassie thanks, too," he said with a wrinkled nose as he straightened out his hair again. "And it's Sam."
"Soooo, I had your present, but I left it at the garage. Mind if we stop by there before we go eat?" Dean asked, giving the innocent face another go.
"Sure, that's cool."
A few minutes later, they pulled into the garage's lot. Dean's boss Benny was still there in the office and gave them a wave as they came in.
"Good to see you, Sam," Benny said with a lazy grin to match his lazy Louisiana drawl. "I hear it's your birthday, brother."
Sam gave an embarrassed shrug. "Yeah."
"I believe Dean has a gift for you here, don't you?"
"Yep. It's in here, Sammy," Dean pushed open the door leading to the bays and flipped on the overhead lights.
The '66 Pontiac GTO Coupe gleamed under the blazing fluorescents, her paint job glossy and beautiful. Dean had deliberated over paint colors for months before choosing a deep red. Not a flashy red, but a dark, moody color that you could get lost in, it was so rich.
Sam looked at the car and blinked, then looked at Dean, then back to the car. When he looked back again, Dean held up the keys and offered them to his brother.
"Happy birthday, Sammy," he said.
Sam's mouth dropped open, but nothing came out. He stared at the car some more, then finally turned to Dean, his face a mask of disbelief. "How?"
With a smirk, Dean picked up Sam's hand and folded it around the keys. "It's no big deal. I got it a long time ago and have been fixing it up."
"Make no mistake," Benny interjected. "That brother of yours has been working his derriere off, restoring it from the ground up. And a damn fine job of it he did, too."
Dean flushed at the praise. If he never did anything else worthwhile in his life, he would always be damn proud of that car.
"Holy shit, Dean. I don't even know what to say," Sam told him, staring down at the keys in his hand.
"How about, 'Come on, Dean, let's take it out for a spin!' for starters?"
Sam looked up with bright, shining eyes and a face-splitting grin. Dean had never been so happy to be a big brother in his life.
As Sam climbed reverently behind the wheel, Dean thanked Benny one last time for all his help in getting the project done. Benny opened the bay door, and after Dean settled in to the passenger seat, Sam drove his ridiculously awesome new car out into the street.
At first Sam was extremely cautious. Bobby had taken him to get his license earlier in the day, but this was an unfamiliar car with a powerful engine. He drove around for a while, delighting in the wake of turned heads they left behind. Then Dean encouraged him to leave the city limits and head out onto roads that weren't so busy so he could really open her up and see what she had in her.
Sam whooped and howled as he tore down the straight stretches on the empty back roads. He was even gracious enough to let Dean drive a little, too.
Eventually, hunger led them back into town. They headed for Sam's favorite pizza place that had repulsive toppings like artichoke hearts and spinach. But Dean was willing to sacrifice to make Sam's birthday special.
While they were stopped at a red light, Sam turned to Dean with one of those super mushy afterschool special looks on his face. "Thank you so much, Dean. The car is so frickin sweet, but I don't mean just that. All the time and work you must have put into it? It really means a lot to me."
"You're welcome, dude," Dean replied, even though the touchy feelies were making his skin itch. "Light's green. We getting pizza or what?"
Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes at Dean's aversion to talking about feelings, but stepped on the gas.
Pain.
Jarring pain and the screaming of metal on metal followed by the musical tinkling of shattered glass.
Dean forced his eyes open, squinting into the confusing swirl of color and lights. The lines of the car around him bent at strange angles, and he wasn't sure if he was seeing things or if that's how they really were.
"Sammy?" he rasped. The first things he saw when he looked over were blood on the spiderwebbed cracks of the driver's side window and Sam slumped against it. Panic forced its way into his muddled thoughts, and he scrambled to untangle himself and get to Sam. He gasped as a searing pain shot through his knee, but he ignored it the best he could. "Sammy, talk to me!"
"Dean!" The ragged shout came from outside the car.
He looked through the passenger window to see Castiel frantically trying to open the door, but it was jammed. Shit, maybe he was seeing things after all. The last time he'd seen Cas was almost two years ago by the river. "Cas?" he croaked.
"Sam!"
This cry came from the other side. Through the crunched driver's side window, Dean saw Gabriel wrenching at the door, trying to force it open to get to Sam.
"Oh, fuck." Dean could only watch helplessly as Cas and Gabriel came face to face for the first time.
When their eyes met, Castiel immediately dropped into a defensive crouch, whipping his silver blade from its sheath. His wings opened to their full, impressive span, the feathers bristling up aggressively. "Angel," he hissed.
Gabriel jerked back from the door at the display, drawing his own blade. "Holy buckets!" he squawked in surprise.
"No!" Dean shouted, renewing his fight to free himself from the car. "No, don't!"
But Castiel edged around to the front of the car and growled at Gabriel – actually growled. Dean had never heard him do it before, and if it had been directed at him, he'd have been hard pressed not to piss himself.
"Cas, stop! This is Gabriel," Dean cried, terrified he wouldn't be able to stop this from turning bloody. "He's just here to help Sam. Please! Castiel!"
The next few seconds seemed to last an eternity as he was forced to watch and wait to see whether one or both of his friends would end up injured or dead. In those endless moments, Dean registered that there were other people in the street, some screaming, some shouting into phones, and others running either toward the wreck or away from it. A siren wailed in the distance.
Castiel's eyes left Gabriel for a flickering moment. He looked at Dean, pinned in the car, and Sam, bleeding and unconscious. He drew his wings in a little, though his feathers and posture still bristled with hostility. With one last growl at Gabriel, Cas vanished.
Gabriel stayed frozen to the spot for an instant longer, before sheathing his blade and resuming his desperate efforts to reach Sam. A cop car arrived, and a uniformed officer appeared with his Maglight in hand, using the butt of it to break through the side window enough for Gabriel to reach inside. His palm cupped Sam's cheek, slipping a little in the blood pouring in sheets from the small cuts on his forehead and scalp.
Just like when Joshua had healed Bobby, Dean felt nothing. No humming energy beneath his skin. No warmth. No connection with the angel at all.
It seemed to take forever, but at last, Sam took a shuddering breath and opened his eyes.
"Sammy?" Dean cried, stretching across to grab Sam's hand despite the pain in his knee.
Gabriel pulled his arm back through the hole in the glass, clamping his other hand down on the cuts he'd gotten on the way. "He'll be all right," the angel said, before backing away to let the emergency responders get to work extricating the brothers from the wreckage. But he didn't take his blazing eye off Dean the whole time.
"Dean?" Sam slurred.
"Hey, bro, just relax. You're okay." He gave Sam's hand a squeeze as additional reassurance and as a distraction from the upsetting shriek of metal. "Everything's gonna be fine."