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Jan. 11th, 2006 10:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Dad's voice is in his ear, patient and soft.
Okay, easy slide, hook it under. Not too fast, now. Good. Now just gently lift it straight up.
Inside the old beater, parked behind a truck stop halfway to California, the lock button pops up with a soft thump. Sam smiles.
John's hand claps down on his shoulder, warm and approving. Sam opens the Impala's door proudly, and Dean cracks wise from inside. "Took you long enough."
"Shut up," Sam grins. John pointedly observes that Dean took an hour to get that move down, and the Winchester men laugh together.
Sam climbs into the beat up old rust bucket and jimmies the ignition with his knife. The engine flares, and Sam pulls out of the lot. There are 200 miles between him and his brother, and if he take the secondary roads and is careful about how he speeds, he can make it in two hours.
The phone just rings and rings. Sam guns it to the interstate.
Okay, easy slide, hook it under. Not too fast, now. Good. Now just gently lift it straight up.
Inside the old beater, parked behind a truck stop halfway to California, the lock button pops up with a soft thump. Sam smiles.
John's hand claps down on his shoulder, warm and approving. Sam opens the Impala's door proudly, and Dean cracks wise from inside. "Took you long enough."
"Shut up," Sam grins. John pointedly observes that Dean took an hour to get that move down, and the Winchester men laugh together.
Sam climbs into the beat up old rust bucket and jimmies the ignition with his knife. The engine flares, and Sam pulls out of the lot. There are 200 miles between him and his brother, and if he take the secondary roads and is careful about how he speeds, he can make it in two hours.
The phone just rings and rings. Sam guns it to the interstate.