The highway stretched out long and dark before him, the white dotted lines in the center hypnotizing in their set pace as they passed beside the car and into the red illumination of the taillights. Life was much like those lines, he reflected, watching in his rear-view mirror as the lines faded into the darkness. It came at you full speed, and passed you by whether or not you wanted it to. Before long, all that was left were the memories. The experiences that, even when shared, were his alone.

His time on earth was almost up,the months of his yearlong contract having gone by much quicker than he'd have thought possible. He glanced to his right, the sight of the sleeping figure in the passenger seat bringing a soft smile to his face.

Sam.

He recalled when he'd shown up on Sam's doorstep three years ago and the warm greeting he'd received. Warm greeting my ass, he chuckled softly to himself. The only thing warm about it had been his face after the successful landings of a few of Sam's punches to his jaw. Yeah, those had hurt, but he'd deserved it for sneaking in the way he had. Didn't matter that they were brothers. Sam may not have hunted for a few years, but he was no slouch. He'd learned from a master - they both had - and the first thing they'd been taught was to be the attacker, not the attacked.

They had picked up so easily where they'd left off. Oh, initially there had been some rough patches, but they had progressed past them and become close again. He thought back to those first few months with fondness. The teasing and pranks had been instantaneous to their traveling together. If he was honest with himself (and what better time for honesty than when your life is almost over), he had been lonely hunting without a partner. Even when he and Sam argued, they never stopped looking out for each other. There was always someone there to watch his back. It was with deep sadness that he realized he wasn't going to have that where he was going.

Sighing wearily, he rubbed his chin, the stubble there a reminder that they'd been driving for a whole day without stopping for anything other than gas, bathroom, and snacks. He could really go for a burger and fries about now… and pie. Apple would be really good, he thought, with some ice cream on top, too.

The lights of a town up ahead confirmed the sign they'd just passed: New Dakota - 3 miles. Good, they could eat and get a room for the night. Dean's back pinched as he shifted in the seat. Yep, definitely time to stretch out on a lumpy mattress and give his back some relief.

Glancing to Sam's peaceful form, he saw one cluster of petulant strands of hair had once again fallen across Sam's face. He could remember waking up from nightmares when they were young and seeing Sam sleeping next to him in the double bed, the same serene expression and obnoxious hairs covering his face. He reached out, wanting to push them back in with the rest of the mop, but halted his hand before it reached its destination.

He wanted the contact. Damn it, since he was being completely honest with himself, he needed the contact. He had to have positive memories to hold him out through an eternity of torment in the pit of Hell. There wasn't any more time for his macho bullshit. No more time to be the strong one for both of them. Hadn't he done enough? Sam was going to be on his own soon. He didn't like it - knew Sam liked it even less - but there was nothing they could do. Despite what the demon bitch had told Sam, he knew better. Sam wouldn't believe it until it was too late, but that was Sam, ever the optimist.

Pulling his hand back to steer, Dean maneuvered the Impala off the main highway and into an empty spot in front of the building proudly proclaiming in bright green neon to be Dina's Diner. He briefly entertained the idea of checking out Dina as he shoved the gear shift into park, but chucked the thought as a large yawn escaped him. Nope, tonight he was going to be flying solo into dreamland.

Sam hadn't moved, and now Dean could hear soft snores coming from the other side of the car. The hairs were still there across Sam's eyes, beckoning him to take action, and so he did. Giving them a quick yank he woke his brother, earning his arm a slap and a grumbled "ouch"in return as Sam was rudely pulled from slumber.

"C'mon, Princess. I'm hungry and about to fall asleep at the wheel," Dean said, not waiting for Sam to come fully awake before exiting the car.

The tall, lanky form of his little brother ambled up to where Dean waited for him on the sidewalk and groaned as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "I am not a Princess," he grumped, entering the diner as Dean held open the door for him.

He watched as Sam walked past him, still half asleep, and saw the little boy that Sam had been. He could remember back to another time they'd done this same late night dinner, only their father had been with them then, and Sam had carried a battered old teddy bear named Zeke in his arms. He couldn't have been more than four years old at the time.

Sitting down in the booth across from Sam, he smiled up at the waitress - Lizzy, not Dina - as she took their beverage order, noticing how her eyes lingered on Sam's face a little longer than was casual. Sam may not have been a princess, but he was a prince… to the female population, at least. Dean knew he got lucky more often than Sam because he was the 'bad boy' type. Sam was the keeper. Always had been. It was the reason their father had let Sam go, grudgingly, to college and away from the family business. It was the reason Dean fought like hell to keep his little brother out of danger. The same reason he was going to die soon.

Shaking his head from the morbid train of thoughts as Sam's gaze asked where he'd trundled off to, Dean teased his brother about needing a haircut. With a predictability that Dean could have placed money on, Sam rolled his eyes and looked out the window just as he'd always done ever since he'd been a little boy.

Yep, those had been the good ole days. But as the song went, those good old days were gone.

~END~