AN: I own nothing! Silt, CO has turned out to be an actual town, but the Silt, CO in my story holds no similarities to people or places in the actual town.

I've combined Chapters 1-2 into one cohesive chapter. I feel it works better that way, and really it should have been done that way from the start. The content hasn't changed, except for some spelling and grammar issues I found when combining the two.

When I started this story I never dreamed that it would take me this long to finish it, but now that I have it's almost a bittersweet ending. Especially since the brotherly interaction that made me hooked on a horror show in the first place has for the most part disappeared from the show. This second half of Season 6 finally is showing the brothers I have come to love! I've missed them! Fitting seeing as how Jensen and Jared don't want to return for a seventh season, their contracts expire after this upcoming season. Hopefully the brotherly jokes and all together good times will make a return as well by the end and we say good-bye on a happy note.

Now, on to the story!

One week later:

Dean wiped off his hands on the rag lying on the floor. He stepped back to admire his work. The 1954 Chevy Bel-Air shined in the lights from overhead and the sun streaming through the windows. Fitting that out of all the Chevy cars he could have had to restore, it would be a '54 model. John Winchester had been born in 1954 and this seemed like a fitting tribute to the Kansas mechanic that loved Chevys. Dean heard someone approaching him, but did not turn to face them. He had heard those footsteps far too many times in his life to feel danger.

"It's beautiful, Dean", Sam breathed quietly. He was in awe of the workmanship that Dean bestowed on the run-down classic. He was also reminded of the fact that if Dean ever decided to leave hunting fulltime and open a garage, he'd be rich. Not that Dean ever would, maybe when he was past his prime he would consider becoming like Bobby.

Dean simply grinned. There was no need to comment. He knew his work spoke for itself.

George came over to join the boys in admiring the classic. He whistled appreciatively. If there had been a way to keep Dean in Silt he would in an instant simply for his mechanical knowhow, he didn't care what Henry thought of him.

Henry and Dean had never mixed well in the week that Dean had been in Silt. Poor Sam kept getting put in the middle and yanked in both directions, at least for the first couple of days. After that Dean seemed to take a backseat to Henry, which caused Henry to think he had won so to speak. What Henry kept forgetting, though, was that Dean was Sam's brother and best friend. While Henry and Sam were also best friends, they weren't brothers. Dean would always win in the long run. It probably helped that both brothers were staying in Sam's cabin and at the end of the day it was just the two of them.

"You have done an amazing job, Dean, I never knew your father well, but as a fellow mechanic, I have to say, he would be proud of your work" George offered softly, knowing that Dean could very well react to his praise with anger.

Dean's expression was tight. He really wasn't ready to deal with his father's death yet out in the open, but he recognized an olive branch when he heard one and after everything George had done for Sammy…'Damn', thought Dean.

"Thanks, George," Dean replied, giving a worried Sam a small grin, which earned him a full grin in return from his brother.

"You're more than welcome, kiddo", George answered, smirking as he patted Dean on the shoulder as he walked back inside to his office. He didn't have to turn around to see the look of disgust on Dean's face. Not one of the boys liked being called, 'kiddo', and that fact alone made George all the more determined to call every single one of them the endearment. The sound of Sam's sweet laughter was another reason for it. The garage had at one time ringed with the sound. The Sam that had returned to them laughed all too rarely. George and Diane were determined that by the time the two brothers hit the road again that Sam's laughter would be restored. They worried about Dean as well, but without the added benefit of knowing him, other than George's encounter with him all those years ago, they didn't have a clue where to start or how to.

Sam was currently sitting in the front passenger seat, admiring the detailing that his brother had done on the inside of the Bel Air. He was startled from his inspection when the driver side door opened and Dean plopped onto the driver's side of the front bench seat. The two looked at each other and laughed till they were wiping tears from their eyes.

"Man, give us a Chevy, doesn't matter they year or model, and we automatically gravitate towards our designated areas, huh?" Sam asked, still chuckling.

Dean chuckled as well while running his fingers over the wheel. The wheel that responded to whoever sat behind it, the wheel that controlled what direction the car went in, the wheel that was an extension of the driver's desires…the area of the car that, as Sam had so eloquently just put it, Dean's designated area of the Impala. He had come to accept over the past year that a lot of Sam's desire to leave was from a lack of control over his destinations. Dean had been slowly giving Sam more and more control over which hunts they took and time behind the wheel. Although, considering what happened the last time Sam was behind the wheel of the Impala, it wasn't surprising he hadn't gone near the car. A fact that would have to be dealt with soon when they left Silt, Dean wasn't planning on travelling the country in a Jeep Wrangler, nor was he willing to let his brother. Dean quickly returned to his original train of thought, the fact remained that as long as Dean insisted on being the main one in control he risked losing his brother again. The only way this was going to work for the long haul was if both of them shared control over their common destination.

"I let you drive sometimes, Sammy", Dean countered quietly.

Sam breath caught in his throat as memories of the last time he was behind the wheel of the Impala rushed through his mind. He knew Dean wasn't referring to that episode, but that he was speaking metaphorically. How he knew this for sure, he wasn't even sure. Most people who knew he was psychic would point at that as the reason, but Sam liked to think it was because he knew his brother too well not to get Dean's metaphors.

"Yea, you do Dean", Sam replied, "but that doesn't mean that the driver's seat doesn't belong to you."

"Well, yea, dude, the car's mine!" Dean responded.

"Exactly," Sam countered back with a smile.

"Bitch", Dean said with a smirk.

"Jerk", Sam replied with a grin.

Dean knew the issue wasn't solved simply because Sam wasn't willing at the moment to hash it out, but he was confident that they would be able to work through it later on. He knew as well as he knew Sam liked to rock out to Bon Jovi that eventually Sam would want more control in their partnership as brothers and hunters.

The Next Day:

Sam quietly packed away the non perishable food into a box that would go into the trunk of the Impala. The perishables were being divided into a box for the Taylors and being packed into a cooler to eat on the road. Dean was currently sorting their clothes into piles to be washed along with the linens that the brothers had used while at the cabin. They had mutually decided last night to keep the cabin, but have the cabin transferred into Bobby's name if he was willing. Considering Dean was supposed to be dead, and who knew where that would leave them if they ever got caught again, Sam didn't argue with Dean's logic on that call. Dean did want to sell Sam's Wrangler, though. Sam had disagreed, arguing that an extra vehicle would have come in handy a few weeks ago. John's truck had never been located, and the boys knew that it would never be seen again. Bobby was on the lookout through his contacts for the weapons, in case they ever made it to his normal dealers.

Dean walked into the kitchen and smirked. He could tell Sam's wheels were burning rubber without even asking, especially since he was about to put lunch meat in the non perishable box.

"Dude!", Dean called.

"What?", Sam answered distractedly until he realized what he was about to do, "Oh, shit!"

Dean walked over to the fridge, chuckling while he grabbed a beer from inside. Sam's face was beet red, sometimes being the annoying big brother was so easy!

"Do I need to check over your packing, Sammy?", Dean asked.

"No", Sam responded with a glare.

"If you say so, but if the Impala starts stinking, you're detailing her", Dean warned walking back out of the kitchen and into the living room. There was a box being packed in the living room as well of books and photos that Sam wanted with him on the road. It would be a pain to make sure that the box was with them, but considering all of Sam's college books and pictures went up in flames, Dean could hardly deny his brother his box.

The boys had finished up at the garage the day before. They knew as soon as they had exited the Bel Air that it was time. George and Henry had been shocked when they informed them of their plans. George had insisted that the two join the Taylors for supper last night and tonight as well. Dean looked as his watch. They had about three hours before they needed to head over to the Taylors. Diane hadn't taken the news of the brothers leaving very well. She had prodded and plied information from the two brothers like a pro until she was satisfied that they would be okay on they're own. Her concern had touched Dean even though he wasn't about to admit it out loud.

They planned on leaving in the morning, which meant making sure the Impala was packed with everything but the perishables and what they needed for in the morning tonight. Dean sighed, if he was honest with himself this was one of the reasons he didn't like staying in one place for long. He absolutely hated packing, the shorter time they stayed, the less packing and unpacking he had to do.

Before the brothers realized it, it was already time to head over to the Taylors for supper. Sam was looking forward to spending one last evening with the Taylors and even Dean was looking forward to the home cooked meal and company. Dean had also given Sam an unexpected gift in the form of letting Sam drive them over in his Jeep under the pretense of saving gas for the next day. Sam had already called Bobby and talked to him about bringing his Jeep to his place. God forbid something happen to the Impala a second time, but just in case, they both wanted to have alternative transportation available.

Dinner was a quiet, but comfortable affair. Diane had fixed Sam's favorite dinner of meatloaf with corn on the cob and mashed potatoes with gravy. Henry and Sam talked about past escapades that kept Dean more than amused during dinner. George engaged Dean in a discussion about the virtues of a 50s classic car versus a 60s model that had Sam and Henry shaking their heads as the tone of the conversation started to become heated.

"Boys, that will be enough of that," Diane said while carrying in a pie plate from the kitchen, causing Dean and even George to redden.

Dean sniffed the air appreciatively. He knew that smell, could recognize it anywhere. He treated Diane to a full blown Dean Winchester special grin and replied, "Something sure smells good!"

Diane flushed while the other men chuckled at her expense. "Only my award winning apple pie, which I have been informed, is your favorite desert," Diane responded with a wink, "You know, I may have made an extra pie, you boys promise to keep in touch and visit and you can take it with you."

Dean sniffed the air again, "Done and done," he answered, holding out his plate for a piece of the divinely smelling pie.

"I'm going to have to remember that," Sam chuckled, "Wave an apple pie under your nose, and I can have whatever I want."

"Ha Ha Ha, Sammy," Dean said while he glared over at his brother.

Both brothers broke out into laughter which warmed the hearts of the Taylor family and eased their remaining worries about the brothers going back into the fray.

The next morning dawned with both brothers ready to go. Sam finished putting the last of his stuff into his Jeep. It would be weird following the Impala instead of being her passenger. He used to be resentful of his place in the family order. John had his own wheels and the freedom they provided and even Dean had his own wheels and the pseudo freedom the Impala provided him as a young adult. Sam never had his own wheels. Dates were spent in his date's car or with Dean dropping him off, borrowing the Impala was absolutely off limits.

"Hey, Sam, stop your day dreaming and let's get a move on!" Dean bellowed across the yard from the front door he had just locked.

Sam crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow at the brother who was not even next to the Impala yet as opposed to Sam who was standing one step away from his Jeep.

"What?" Dean asked, a little unnerved by the similarity between John and Sam at that moment, while he walked around the Impala and opened the door.

"Nothing, Dean, absolutely nothing," Sam answered with a smile while getting into his own vehicle. Mentally he was counting…one…two….three…

"WHAT?" Dean asked again, annoyed that his brother had left him hanging. He looked back at his little brother who was currently laughing his head off inside his Jeep. Oh well, he'd get back at him later.

Both vehicles drove off from the cabin without even Sam feeling the presence that was watching the brothers banter back and forth. Their banter had been missing in the last few months since they had lost their father, and watching them now, John could have cried to hear it return. Not that spirits could cry, but being so new to this realm, he could still remember human emotions and responses. He started to feel a warmth from off to his right. He looked over and saw the most beautiful light he had ever seen.

"No, there is still one more thing I've got to do before I cross over, Mary," John said softly watching as Mary's spirit which was waiting for him in the light nodded at him. The light faded and John looked back forward. The cars were long gone by now, but he wasn't planning on bothering his boys anymore. They could work their way back by themselves. There was someone else that needed his attention now, and his attention was almost five years overdue.

John's spirit vanished from the yard and somewhere in California a prison inmate screamed.

THE END

AN: I can't believe this story is finally over! I want to thank all of you for your patience. When I started this story I never imagined it would take this long to finish it, but I am proud of the end result and that is what matters!

Reviews and Constructive Criticism Welcome!