SNAFU is an understatement
"Seriously, Sammy. An iPod? Didn't I teach you anything?"
Of all the ways Dean imagined this could go, bitching about a freaky techno-modification to his baby was never one of them.
Hell, the raspy voice was a surprise, too.
But you've gotta roll with it, right?
Right?
Of all the ways Dean imagined this could go, bitching about a freaky techno-modification to his baby was never one of them.
Hell, the raspy voice was a surprise, too.
But you've gotta roll with it, right?
Right?
Comments 36
"So I like to listen to MP3s instead of cassette tapes. Sue me."
It's unreal to be in the passenger seat again, with his brother behind the wheel, beside him. Sam's afraid he's going to wake up.
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"Don't tempt me."
He's grinning a little, and that grin broadens as he reaches forward to pat the dashboard.
"It's all right, baby. I'm back now."
Like it's really that simple.
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My brother's back.
The knowledge is a warmth inside him, spreading out to reach places that have long been bitter and cold.
"I did take care of her," he points out, mildly. "Tried to, anyway. Just like you showed me."
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Dean's grin widens.
"I'm gonna do a little white glove test, then, once we get where we're going."
He lets that hang in the air for a second.
"Long as the engine doesn't crap out on the way."
What?
It was too good to resist.
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