Fic: Second Season

[mekachu04]

SUPERNATURAL FANFIC

The family is the test of freedom; because the family is the only thing that the free man makes for himself and by himself.
Gilbert K. Chesterton


Title: Second Season
Series: Supernatural
Rating:
Pairing: none
Timeline: Though Late Season 5. Follows The End
He's on south 27, and in farm country. Empty fields stretch out on either side, a scattering of trees off to the left, branching whipping in the wind. Winchester, Indiana 8 miles.
He shakes his head, slumping to rest his forehead on the wheel. "How about that Sammy...."
The world really does end. But with The End comes a new beginning.

Disclaimer: Kripke might be sharing his sandbox this season, but i'd probably still be shot for trespassing.

The lines blur; yellow and white staining into each other, tinting black around the edges. Dean's so tired he's not sure it the black is real or not - edges still out of focus no matter how many times he blinks, or scrubs at his eyes. He needs to pull over, needs to SLEEP, but he can't, not yet. He hasn't gone far enough yet - he's still not sure he's lost the demon's yet.

He can't loose everything to them again. He can't loose Sammy to them again. Becuase there's nothing left now - just Sammy. And he's positive that this time, he won't even get that back if he can't hold on. A few more hours of driving, he can do that. If Sammy can just stay asleep a little long, bundled and bound in the Impala's seatbelts and Dad and Cas' old coats - then Dean can get one more state line between them and the loose ends left over from Lucifer. At least for a few more hours.

He's circled the country by now - the drive's been a haze, the Impala choose the roads on her own most of the way - highways, forest access roads, interstates and rural back roads - but he distinctly remembers hitting Washington at one point, and then the smouldering skyline as he skirted around the big cites of California. He always thinks of Sammy when he sees California - of his little brother going off on his own, to be his own man - and it's still something he can't swallow. Something that just won't sit .

Maybe because he usually ends up thinking of Jess - and all the things he's wanted for his brother, and never was allow to give him.

Sammy stirs in the seat now - face scrunched, and moments away from wailing. His hands tighten on the wheel, road briefly coming into focus as he turns his attention to where he is. It's not like he cares where he's been, or where he's going, but right now, he needs to find a place to pull over before he crashes.

He's not sure how long he's been driving - days have been melting together, between road, Sammy, and brief moments of sleep. Judging by the stiffness in his back, and the aches of his neck and legs - he's thinking about a week or so. He shifts in the seat, trying to stretch, before reaching over to pat the fussy baby next to him. A road sign catches in the head lights, and he slows to a stop in front of it, trying to force his eyes to adust - to force the black letters into focus long enough to figure out how far away the next town is.

He's on South 27, and in farm country. Empty fields stretch out on either side, a scattering of trees off to the left, branching whipping in the wind.

Winchester, Indiana
8 miles

He shakes his head, slumping to rest his forehead on the wheel. "How about that, Sammy...." he says to his little brother with a smirk. The baby just fusses at him, tired, cranky, and demanding food. And probably needing changed too. Seat belts off, and he lifts Sammy up out of Dad's jacket.

Oh yeah. Needs changed.

His own clothes had been dumped in the trunk, and his duffel filled with somewhat legitimately procured baby stuffs from back water gas stations. The back bench easily turned to changing table, one of his old button ups down to protect his one love from the unique fouls that his other love tended to make. He would never - in his life - admit to the words freely falling from his mouth, but he cooed and talked softly to his crying brother, unwrapping him from the trussings of Cas' trench coat. Sammy pouted - tiny fists clenching on the coarse fabric.

"Nuh, uh, uh, little Sammy. Gotta let it go for just a little bit."

The baby disagreed - honestly, he'd put up fight every time Dean'd tried to take it. He wasn't sure how his infant brother had gotten wrapped up in it in the first place. But once the dust cleared, and the city was level, Dean had woken up alone in the back seat of his half buried car. Little Sammy's wail had him stumbling into the rubble of down town Detroit, unearthing his infant brother wrapped tight in the coat of his last living friend. He and Sammy's been healed, but alone in the fallout. Bobby didn't make it - body lost in the debris, but the demon's where still alive and ready for blood, and Dean had booked it as soon as he'd gotten his car out.

There hadn't been a sound from the angels or the devil since.

He changed the mess, got Sammy wrapped up in a new, clean diaper - the nasty one wrapped in a few shopping bags and put in the trunk until he could dump them somewhere. He'd been tempted to just toss them on the side of the road early on, but the country was already to messed up and torn apart... and then Sammy'd started to wail - like he new what Dean was trying to do- and Dean just didn't have the heart to do it.

Water bottle mixed with baby formula, and Sammy wrapped back up in his security blanket, Dean half curled in the back seat, Sam eating greedily in his arms. Dean was exhausted, and without the road to try and focus on, he was loosing his battle with alertness. Sammy seemed good to take control of the bottle, leaving Dean without anything to keep him awake for. sliding down against the bench, he cribbed Sammy in against the seat back with his own body and drifted off.