Title: Traveling Sam Winchester Territory
Chapter: The Engine
Rating: PG
Characters: Sam and Ezekiel.
Spoilers: Up to 9x2.
Warnings: Strong language
Summary: To survive, Ezekiel and Sam must start the engine of the Impala. Together, they uncover the last piece of motivation Sam needs.

A/N: This is the last chapter detailing Ezekiel's journey into Sam. It may not be satisfying, but the rest is history, as they say!

Nothing was faster or bolder than the Impala. If they were short on time, they would need her to get them to where they were going. In the Impala, they could escape anything, including Death. "We can drive out of here," Sam explained. "Dean's waiting outside."

"Yes, good plan," the angel responded. They rushed out of the house and to the car. She had honked, but the engine was cold. Strings of feathers blew gently over her stationary hood, like the leaves of a willow tree.

Dean wasn't waiting outside.

Ezekiel paced around the car and looked through the windows to see if the eldest Winchester was inside, but he wasn't. Just as he expected, only remnants of people could exist within Sam. In that sense, Sam was like any other vessel. Sam and Dean had the strongest bond out of all the bonds Sam had, but they were still distinct souls.

"There isn't time, Sam. You're going to have to drive!" Ezekiel hopped into the passenger seat and called to Sam again. "Hurry!"

"Right. Right, okay!" Sam replied. He hopped into the car, but couldn't find the keys. "I don't know where the keys are! Zeke, Dean always has the keys."

"Why do you call me that?" Though not the most important of his concerns, Ezekiel had heard the moniker enough to be distracted by it.

Sam eyebrows furrowed. "I don't know."

Then he realized that was just the sort of nickname his brother would have given the angel. It was the second time he had called Ezekiel by that name but he hadn't noticed until it was brought to his attention. Sam shook his head. "Nevermind about that. We just need to find the keys. Will you help me?"

"Of course!"

Ezekiel and Sam seemed to find everything but the keys. They found movie and concert tickets. They found toy soldiers and melted crayons. In the back seat, they found a cooler full of ice and Sam's favorite beer. Ezekiel frowned at a bag of hot fastfood. There was spare change under an old blanket they had used to keep warm on nights when they didn't have time to get a motel. Speaking of motels, there were dozens of yellowed and faded receipts to the cheapest motels in a multitude of towns. There were a few receipts for on-the-road doughnuts and coffees too. The Impala was filled with lifetimes of things and Ezekiel was in awe of the mountains of junk Sam kept. By contrast, each item they found filled Sam with an inner smile and gave him the urge to tell Ezekiel the stories attached to each.

"Holy crap, Ezekiel. Batman Returns! We begged dad to let us see that." Sam couldn't believe the old movie stubs were still in the car. "More like Dean begged until he went blue in the face and dad took us."

Dad dumped us at the theatre while he went on a hunt.

"It was so freaky to me back then. I was like nine. We still watch it whenever it's on TV," Sam explained. He thumbed over a familiar concert ticket and began to tell Ezekiel another story. "This was totally the concert where Dean got into a fight!"

Sam laughed and Ezekiel listened. They still needed the keys, but Sam promised the story wouldn't take long. "It wasn't Dean's fault. The dude was being a total asshole. By the way, Dean won – of course. I don't think I've ever seen him lose a fight."

Sam neglecting to explain how he had been sucked into that fight and had gotten clocked in the jaw. That was precisely when Dean had gone into overdrive and they all got kicked out. He exhaled. It was still a great night.

"Yes, well, the keys, Sam?" Ezekiel spoke for the first time in what felt like forever.

"Man, we got in so much trouble," Sam remarked, "We weren't supposed to take the car. Dad was pissed… but it was so worth it."

Sam had opened a beer for himself and one for the angel, claiming that they might as well drink if it was going to take them a while to find the keys. The refreshing coolness of the beer was irresistible.

"I do not require beverages – " Ezekiel felt like they were getting way off track. He wasn't used to eating or drinking so the bottle of beer forced upon him felt bizarre and foreign in his hand. Still, he noticed that Sam was far more comfortable in the Impala than he had been even in the safety of the house. Ezekiel came to believe he should play along if these items gave Sam strength. Between them, they drank a six-pack.

Sam chatted to Ezekiel about a time he drove with Dean up the Rocky Mountains. He told the angel of how they had gotten drunk, staring up at the stars. Snowy peaks had surrounded them and watched over them with the familiarity of great ancestors. When Sam again opened the cooler, it was once more packed with fresh ice and beer. Sam gasped with excitement, "Awesome! Zeke, you want another?"

"We're losing track of time. We really need to get going," Ezekiel replied, but the beer had weighed him down almost as much as it had Sam.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Sam sighed and sat comfortably against the cushions of the backseat. "By the way, you know Dean had sex with your sister back here."

"What?" Ezekiel prickled up, suddenly offended. "Excuse you! Of what are you speaking?"

Sam burst into a fit of laughter. How many sisters had Dean fucked right where they were sitting? It brought Sam unusual pleasure that Ezekiel's reaction was a lot like the reaction a human brother might have had.

"Anna. Anna Milton. She is your sister, right?" Sam asked. "Angels are kind of all related, aren't they?"

"Anna?" Ezekiel fumed and reclined against the seat. Of course he knew Anna. He wasn't sure exactly how to feel about Dean bedding her, but whatever the emotion was, it wasn't a good one. He curled his lip in distaste at the white seats beneath them. "Why would you tell me that?"

"I don't know."

You just like talking about Dean.

Sam shrugged, "That's not a bad thing, is it?"

There were so many memories in the Impala. They were memories worth remembering no matter how far away they seemed. "It's kind of funny."

"What is?" Ezekiel leaned closer.

"Dean had sex with your sister and stitched me up in the very same spot." There was a scar over his bicep that Dean had mended. The eldest Winchester had poured whiskey down his throat and had told Sam not to worry because he had done this before. They hadn't had the time or the money for hospitals, so Dean had pulled a needle through his brother's arm repeatedly, to patch him up himself. Sam's blood had gotten on the seats, but Dean never did complain about it though he complained about anything else getting on them. "He's a man of many faces."

Admiration overflowed from Sam. He just wanted to sit and drink with Dean.

"We can't do this forever, Sam. We have to get moving."

"I know, but we shouldn't let these burgers go to waste," Sam answered. "We'll need our strength and I'm really hungry."

As soon as Sam mentioned burgers, Ezekiel's stomach growled. Eat and drink. You need your strength. Sam remembered that these were the best burgers in New Mexico. "It's the spices that make them so good."

Ezekiel ate with Sam, and felt more replenished as he did.

"Four bucks for all of this. Can you believe that?" Fries appeared and Sam corrected himself. "Five."

He shared his fries with the angel. "Now that you're here, I'm kind of glad," Sam admitted. "I do feel a little better. Are you healing me now?"

"Yes." Ezekiel wiped his lips with a napkin in a very humanlike gesture. "As long as I remain here, I will be healing you in one way or another."

"I can feel it. I didn't believe you, but I can feel it now."

"I'm glad," Ezekiel smiled, "It must be working."

"Do you feel better?" Sam asked and the angel nodded.

"These burgers really are good."

"I told you! Dean knows all the best places."

They lost track of time in the car. They conversed, ate, and drank until they were both drunk and happy. Sam's experiences in the Impala transferred to Ezekiel, leaving the angel buzzing with contentment.

"Weren't we looking for something?" Ezekiel asked with slightly slurred speech.

"The keys," Sam responded in an off-handed manner as he rested shoulder-to-shoulder with the angel. "They're not in here. We've looked everywhere. Twice."

"That's impossible. They must be somewhere."

"They're with Dean." Sam waved a hand. "He always has the keys."

"Surely not 'always.'"

"Surely. Always. Dean always has the keys."

"Then how do we move without them?"

"We don't. We need Dean to drive."

Ezekiel got an idea. He thought about pushing the car. The car wasn't a real, mechanical thing like in the world outside of Sam's soul. The white Impala didn't adhere to the laws of physics and she was just as alive and susceptible to influence as Sam. Maybe with a push, it would start on its own. Sam was drunk enough to try it. The angel and the human got behind the car and gave her a fierce push. The Impala resisted each time they tried to get her to budge. "It's no use," Sam panted. He slid down, over the trunk.

Another thought struck the angel.

"Sam… Have you ever thought… perhaps you can't find the keys because you really don't want to drive?"

"What? What're you talking about?" Sam scoffed. "I'll drive, if I have to."

"If you have to, but not because you want to."

"Oh, don't you dare psychoanalyze me. I know what you're doing."

"What am I doing then?" Ezekiel gave Sam a tired gaze, like he was being subjected to a close friend's old, bad habits.

"You just said it! You think I really don't want to drive, but I do. Look, I would be driving right now if I had the keys."

"When was the last time you drove?"

Sam's mouth fell open. He rubbed the back of his head and his eyes fell to the grass. He cleared his throat, "When Dean died."

Ezekiel pretended to be hard of hearing. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"When Dean died!" Sam shouted, irritated.

"Why did you drive then?"

Sam felt stabs in his heart. He felt old wounds blistering and throbbing. "I don't know. Because I wanted Dean back. I knew what he'd done and I took over because I knew he would have wanted me to. I couldn't just leave the car… Not when it meant so much to him, and to me."

"Do you always drive just for your brother?"

Sam glared at Ezekiel.

"You drive because he's dead. You drive because you think he wants you to, but why don't you drive for yourself?"

Defensively, Sam said the first thing that landed on his tongue. "Because he won't let me!"

"What makes you think that?"

"I don't have to listen to this." Sam stomped over to the driver's seat and got inside, just to spite Ezekiel and just to show him that he was ready to drive. When Ezekiel got inside, Sam gestured to the ignition. "See? No keys. Can't drive. Dean has the keys. You seriously think Dean would give me the keys? He doesn't even let me pick the music."

As if on cue, Led Zeppelin began to blare in the car. Sam gestured to the radio. "See? His car, his music. That wasn't even my favorite beer. It was his favorite, and it only became mine."

"Why do you think he brought you back?" Ezekiel asked suddenly, and eyed Sam.

"B-Because of... of stuff! Damn it, Zeke. Just because! That's what we do!" Sam began to run his fingers over the car upholstery nervously. They didn't talk about feelings like that. Not so blatantly.

Because he loves me.

"Don't pout," Ezekiel chided Sam. "You realize this is one of your most powerful assets?"

"What is?"

"Family, love." The angel spoke in a voice mixed with sadness, jealously, and longing.

Sam knew Ezekiel would say that before the words left his mouth, but he failed to notice the minutia in the angel's reactions. He couldn't argue with the fact that Dean loved him. There weren't many things in his life that were more constant than the Impala and Dean. Sam cleared his throat. "You sound like a Hallmark card."

When Ezekiel heard the word, his mind filled with flowery, pink cards. "Nevermind what I sound like. You know... I have seen the rest of you. What's out there."

Sam squirmed in the passenger seat. What was out there, outside of the ring of angel feathers was ugly and painful. Cas hadn't been able to remove all of the suffering and negativity that had been collecting within him since the day he was born. That Ezekiel had seen all of that, made Sam listen.

"This is the best of you," Ezekiel gestured around him, to the Impala and the house. "Your brother would want you to love yourself as much as he loves you."

"Fine, Oprah. You can cut it out now." Sam punched Ezekiel in the shoulder,hard. "Really, just stop. I get it."

Sam was quiet for a long time. When they were younger, he had always believed that – in comparison to other kids – they never got to do what they wanted. Now, he realized the past was full of more freedom than they had ever had since. I don't even get to choose to die.

"Why are you so afraid of living?" Ezekiel pinned Sam down with his question. The Winchester was so alarmed by it and his inner responses to it that he failed to see Ezekiel had taken the driver's seat. Then, with all the fierceness only a Winchester could have, Sam sat up and gave the angel a bold answer.

"I'm not afraid." The last thing Sam was was a coward. He didn't know why multiple lives kept coming his way, though he knew Dean usually had a strong hand in his longevity. Sam was ready to die at the same time that he was unable to throw away an opportunity. Ezekiel was giving him power and life. Sam could feel the grace spilling over his wounds. "Damn it, let's start this car!"

In that instant the Impala roared to life. Ezekiel and Sam shared wide smiles and laughter. "Thank you, God." The angel beamed. "Thank you, Sam. You are saving my life."

"Don't mention it," Sam shrugged, like saving lives was mundane. He watched Ezekiel put the car in drive and they began to move. The renewed color in the angel's face brought Sam satisfaction. He could become so weary of his endless suffering, but sights like these were never tiresome. Wasn't I driving?

Ezekiel wouldn't look Sam in the eye any longer. The shift in their mood was drastic. "You're not strong enough yet."

Sam shuddered like he was watching something horrid and unstoppable while caught in sleep paralysis. Why can't I move? His heart and soul thudded with panic.

"It's better this way," Ezekiel answered. "Just go to sleep."

Sam could feel his mind becoming hazy and all his memories slipping from him. His eyelids began to droop, as if drugged. If they were friends, why was Ezekiel doing this to him? With all his strength, Sam cast his eyes to the angel and saw another face flash over the one Ezekiel was wearing. Sam spasmed with fright, at least realizing the stranger traveling the landscape of his soul had many hidden facets.

"Are you even... are you even..." Sam couldn't talk anymore. Ezekiel?

The angel used an unwise amount of power to immobilize Sam and take away his memories.

No.

Ezekiel gave Sam a look that he hoped seemed trustworthy. "I promise, Sam. You'll be as good as new in no time."

The Winchester's breathing was erratic as he tried to hold onto control in an impossible battle.

A part of me will always know.

That was the last thing Sam thought before a blinding white light filled every level of his being. Then, Sam sat up to face the dawn. He shared a smile with Dean as they drove down the road in the Impala.