How the Winchesters got their groove back: the commentfic meme you totally knew you wanted
BECAUSE SAM AND DEAN STILL LOVE EACH OTHER (OR ARE INTELLECTUALLY FOND OF EACH OTHER, SAM WINCHESTER I’M LOOKIN AT YOU) AND I STILL LOVE THEM.
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“This is insane,” Sam whines. “This car is haunted and you’re making friends with it!”
“This car is awesome, Dean counters. “And if you have a problem with that, get out.”
Suddenly, the Impala’s passenger side down bursts open, and the passenger seat tilts in a way it’s definitely not supposed to tilt. Sam tumbles gracelessly out of the vehicle which, thankfully, hadn’t been moving very fast yet.
Dean smiles, and strokes the steering wheel affectionately. “That’ll teach him to wear his seatbelt,” he says. “But seriously, he’s my brother and I can’t leave him behind.”
The key turns in the ignitions, and the brake slams down. The car screeches to a halt and is silent.
“No?” Dean says, “No, he’s not my brother?”
The car is still and silent.
“No, I know he’s not, but he’s the closest thing I’ve got.” The car radio explodes in static, apparently displeased.
“Oh yeah?” Dean says, irritated now, especially since he can see Sam lumbering down the road toward him in the rear view mirror. “Then who is?”
There’s a rattling sound from the back seat. Dean cranes his neck to look behind him. The rattling sound is coming from the Impala’s rear door ashtray, where a plastic toy soldier has - finally - popped free of its prison.
Dean feels his heart skip a beat. The car engine rumbles, making the little soldier vibrate and crash against the sides of the ashtray. The radio switches channels frantically, before landing on some shitty emo song Dean almost-recognizes.
“Sam?” Dean says, and the car roars to life, honking its horn jubilantly.
Dean straightens in his seat. He strokes the steering wheel again. “It’s okay baby, I’m got you now.”
The body-that-isn’t-Sam-and-is-now-covered-in dust gets back in the car - a little hesitantly - and, as the Impala drives itself, Dean gathers all the ingredients for a demon summoning from the glovebox. “We’ve got one heck of a mess to sort out,” he tells not-Sam, grinning from ear to ear.
Not-Sam looks at him like he’s crazy, which Dean thinks is sort of ironic. It doesn’t really bug him, though; he couldn’t care less what this guy thinks of him.
Dean switches the radio station away from the shitty emo song, to make a point. “I’m still technically in the driver’s seat,” he points out, leaning back in his seat and putting his feet up on the dash, as he and Sammy set off down the highway.
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Such love for this--it's just given me the biggest smile. X3
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Oh my goddddd this was SO PERFECT!!! Sampala "hugging" Dean made me aww aloud, omg :') And his little bitchy smacks at not!Sam asd;kfa;sldkhg I LOVE IT SFM I WANNA HUG THIS FIC.
Thank you so much!!! :D
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I love how Sam honks jubilantly when Dean figures out who he is! *g*
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“This is insane,” Sam whines. “This car is haunted and you’re making friends with it!”
Awesome!
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