Title: The road goes on and on and on

Author: Disasteriffic Kaz

Info: Just a short one shot in which Sam is tortured…sort of and learns a new appreciation for Dean. Post 7x12 "Time after time"

Author's Note at end of story. :P

Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Sam trudged wearily into the parking lot of the busy truck stop. Two hours walking along the interstate left him dreaming of a warm bed and maybe a few gallons of water. He cursed the car he'd stolen again for dying on him in the middle of nowhere. He should have known better than to take it. It had taken him three tries to get the door open and another two tries to hotwire the engine before it grudgingly turned over; almost like it had been trying to tell him he didn't want it. He wiped the arm of his sleeve over his sweaty brow and sighed. Pride kept him from calling his brother and asking to be picked up. He wasn't in the mood to first listen to Dean tease him about the debacle and then yell at him for having to drive thirty miles out of his way to come get him.

"Looking a little rough there, Sammy." Lucifer's voice echoed in his ear and made him jump. The Devil chuckled and Sam studiously did not look to his left to see him. He ignored the hallucination and went instead toward one of the myriad big rigs. He managed a smile for the heavily bearded man opening the cab door.

"Hey!" Sam called and decided the guy didn't hit his 'bad guy' radar.

"Hey there, kid." The trucker nodded. "Need something?"

"A ride if you're going the right way." Sam smiled again. "Car died uh…I don't even know how many miles back." He pointed off to the East. "I need to get to Gainsville."

"So happens I am going that way." The trucker held out a hand. "Derrick."

"Sam. I can't thank you enough." Sam shook his head and resettled his heavy backpack.

"Go on get in." Derrick waved him around and climbed up into the cab.

Sam didn't argue. He went around and settled himself in the passenger seat and took a moment to let his head drop back to the seat in a sigh of relief to simply be sitting.

Derek chuckled. "Been walkin' that long huh?"

Sam smirked. "Yeah. Thank you again."

"Aw don't mention it." Derek fired up the engine with a smile. "Gets lonely out here on the road. Always nice to have a little company. Whatchoo doin' out here anyway?"

"Ah, my brother sent me to pick up something for him." Sam shrugged and didn't mention that it was a very specific bone for a ritual they needed to perform to get rid of a particular creature that had been pissing them off for near a week. He didn't think Derrick would understand. "Next time I'm making him do it himself.

Derrick laughed. "Good man. Let's have a little music, huh? Got us about four hours to Gainsville."

Sam nodded as the man reached over to the radio and then jumped as the volume blasted into the cab. He waited for Derrick to turn it down but to his consternation, he didn't. It was loud enough to vibrate his ear drums and the window his arm rested against and ruined his plans of catching a couple hours sleep on the drive. For the comfort of a warm ride he decided he could deal with a few hours of country music. Sam sighed and tried to tune it out even as it began to drive a headache behind his eyes.

"Been on this drive a few times!" Derrick's voice cut over the music, shouting inside the cab to be heard.

"What?" Sam watched wide-eyed as Derrick nodded happily; showing no signs at all of turning the music down to have a conversation. He was going to shout above it.

"Came down this stretch once a few months ago," Derrick continued, tapping his fingers on the wheel in time to the music as he yelled. "Blew out a tire."

Sam groaned as Derrick proceeded to tell him in painful detail of every step of that trip and the changing of his tire, what he had for lunch, how many coffees he'd had that day, what the weather had been like and how he'd banged a thumb in the process. Sam wondered if his ears were bleeding yet. Derrick didn't seem to need any response from him other than the occasional nod.

"Sometimes I just kick back in my sleeper there and watch movies. You use Netflix? I love em." Derrick reached over and changed the radio station; the country mercifully stopped but was replaced by some recycled Rap music that be tapped his fingers too just as enthusiastically while Sam considered eating his pistol.

Sam nodded again when Derrick looked over and closed his eyes. Four hours, he thought. Four hours, he can't possibly keep going the whole four hours. He was wrong. Derrick rarely took time for a breath and when he did the volume on the radio climbed a notch after which he simply yelled louder to compensate.

Sam learned all about Derrick's love of Netflix, his dislike of Swiss cheese, how he sometimes considered getting himself a partner to drive with, how the navigation system on the truck worked. He couldn't help but a snort a laugh when Derrick said he liked the nav. system's voice; how in hell could the man hear her over the radio? There were stories of the loads he'd carried, motels he'd stayed at, how his trucking company didn't give him enough hours, where he liked to spend his off time; even the fact that he'd stopped for a cheeseburger earlier in the day. All of it was delivered in a cheerful, booming shout over top of the blaring music. Sam actually found himself missing the quiet jeers of Lucifer for a moment. It occurred to him that there was one torment the Devil had never thought of in the Cage.

Four hours felt more like eight by the time Derrick pulled up to a stop in front of the motel he and Dean were staying at. The trucker finally reached across and cut off the radio. The silence was deafening and Sam found he couldn't actually hear the man speaking.

"Thank you!" Sam said and knew his voice had to be louder than it should be. "Really! Thanks!" He clambered down out of the cab and shut the door with Derrick still speaking and watched him pull back onto the road with what felt like glee. "Oh my god." He breathed and rubbed his hands on his pounding temples. He hitched up his backpack again and walked across the lot to their room. It opened as he reached it.

"Sammy! Where the hell have you been?" Dean demanded as his little brother came to the door and then grunted in surprise when he found himself enveloped in a crushing hug. "What the hell, Sam?"

Sam held on to Dean tightly for a moment and then set him back on his feet. "I'm never complaining about your music ever again."

"Huh. Ok." Dean's brows rose as Sam went past him into the room. "Dude. Why are you yelling?"

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The End.

Author's note: This one was born of the eight hour drive I just made home with a trucker friend who…is exactly like this. LOL No lie. I couldn't hear a damn thing by the time I got home and my head is friggin pounding while my brain has gone to mush. XD I love him but next time I may just bring ear plugs. Heh.