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Dean turned to look for Sam – the passenger door was open and his brother was gone. He remembered feeling like the car was being lifted, shaking and shuddering under the fury of whatever it was that rolled over them. He may have blacked out. He wasn’t entirely sure.

He fell out of the Impala, bent forward and put his hands on his knees gasping for air, choking on the fetid stench of sulphur burning his nose and slicing into his lungs. He squinted through the murky gloom, trying to make out the shapes as the cloud of crap slowly cleared around him.

“Sammy?” he bellowed, as he stumbled around to the other side of the car. “Sam!”

“Here. I’m here Dean”, Sam yelled back.

Dean saw the figure of his brother emerging from the muck that still clung to the air.

“Are you okay?” Dean hollered, grabbing at Sam’s shirt, then his face, checking his little brother for injuries, just as he’d done for some 30 odd years.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine Dean. I think I got thrown from the car! Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.” Dean said, absentmindedly patting himself down just to be sure.

The brothers stood side by side, watching as the cloud of blackness disappeared into the distance, the air around them returning to normal.

As the roar of The Darkness dinned, a quiet fell and all the brothers could hear was their breathing. Large, fast gulps, taken in unison.

“Well that’s just peachy.” Dean said.

“At least we’re alive, Dean.” Sam almost whispered, as he stepped forward, watching the mass of God knows what continue to rage over the land.

Just then his brother’s voice pierced the stillness.

“SON OF A BITCH!” Dean hollered, making Sam jump out of his skin.

He spun around to see Dean, hands resting on the Impala, head hanging.


“I’m gunna kill them Sammy, the freakin’ Darkness. I’M GUNNA KILL THEM. IT. WHATEVER!” He turned to face Sam.

Sam looked at his brother. He was practically puffing out fire. “Well, yeah Dean. We need to get back to the Bunker and figure it out…hopefully there’s something in the bunk…er….lib… um” Dean was staring at Sam, incredulity etched over ever part of his face.

“Oh yeah sure, worst evil ever, blah blah blah…THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT…look what they BABY!” Dean made an over exaggerated arm sweep.

Sam looked at the car. It was covered, completely covered in what looked like thick, black soot. He looked back at Dean who was pulling a, “SEE!” face. Sam couldn’t help but chuff out a laugh.

“Oh yeah, real freakin’ funny Sam. Look at her! You know how long it’s gunna take me to get her clean?”

Sam shook his head. “Dean, you…I mean…” But Dean raged on.

“Look! That crap’s in every crevice, every cranny. Just look at her chrome!” He moaned. He was bent down using the corner of his shirt and a bit of spit to try and clean off a spot. “Great, it’s like it’s glued to her!” He hung his head and sighed.

Sam was trying his absolute hardest not to bust out laughing.

Once the brothers had pushed the car out of the ditch she was still stuck in, Dean silently stormed around to the driver’s side, as Sam slid onto the passenger seat, noting but not daring to mention, the small puff of grime that drifted into the air as he slammed the door closed behind him.

Dean put the keys in the ignition, quietly chanting, “Come on Baby, please, please start. Please.”

The car roared to life.

But Dean’s jubilant whooping was soon replaced by coughing, as a gust of black dust burst into the car via the dashboard ventilation. The brothers quickly opened the windows spluttering for air.

“Son of a bitch” Dean growled.

He turned on the windscreen wipers to clear the windshield; head following them from side to side as they squealed across the glass, smearing the grunge in wide arcs.

“Son. Of. A. Bitch.”

Dean put his foot on the accelerator and they skidded across the dirt, soil and who knows what billowing in their wake.
As they hit the blacktop, Dean reached down and turned on the radio.

Sam looked at his brother. Dean’s face was as dark as whatever it was that had engulfed them. Sam was pretty sure they were in more trouble than they’d ever been in. He was pretty sure he should be worried sick. He was pretty sure they should be trying to figure out what to do now. But as he watched his brother, glaring out the window, furious at the filth coating his Baby, thinking only about the hours ahead of him getting her to shine again, Sam had to chew on his lip to stop from grinning. Because, sure, this might be the worst thing they’d ever faced…but his brother was back. Dean was back…and he was as pissed off as ever.