trans_9 | Free but at what cost? (Some language warning)

"Wow, you look happy."

Dean casually glanced over, and shrugged, "Great handle on the sarcasm there, kid."

Ben nodded amiably. "I practice every day." He gave the transport -- if it could be called a transport at all -- a brief look-over. It appeared well cared for, but, glancing at the wheels, like it could have been old when the stars were young. And the feelings rippling through the Force... it wasn't the surprising optimism of most people aboard the ship. So what had happened?

A snort at that, "Yeah I'll bet." Most kids his age did after all. Dean certainly knew it well for years.

He gestured with his hand to the Impala.

"Got a thing for classic cars?"

"Is that what it's called?" he asked, eyebrows raised. "It's small for a ground vehicle."

"She's called a 1967 Chevy Impala, and she's all mine." He patted the chrome surface with clear affection in his voice and gesture.

Dean fixed him a look, "Small? Hell you should have seen the modern craptastic compact cars so many people drive now. Freaking clown cars all wired up with junk."

Jubilee was tired. Nightmares - things she'd had before the whole 'world going boom' thing, thanks - meant that, sometimes, no matter how hard she worked, she just could not sleep. Which meant wandering.

That was how she'd found the vehicles. Some looked hazardous to her healthy dislike for math but some...

Dammit, she'd hung out with Logan and Scott far too much in her life, because that was a pretty car.

Even more pretty though? The beer the dude was holding. "Dude, I will totally owe you huge, if you tell me you've got another beer I can snag." Jubilee did not have shame.

Ben snorted. She was direct.

"Can it get off the ground?" he asked, putting a hand on the front of the vehicle.

Dean gave a small grin to the latest arrival. Pretty young but cute. He just reached down to grab another bottle from under the car.

"Must be your lucky day, or unlucky since now you owe me." Larger grin now.

He then added with another look to the blond haired kid, trying to deflect his hands away from his precious baby, "Hands off and hell no, it's a car, not a metal coffin with wings. It's for driving on the open road."

Samus, with a rather large tool box propped on her shoulder, was making two stops in the hangar. One at her bike and one at her ship. The two were kept in separate areas, so she had a bit of walking to do.

She weaved in between various vehicles to cut down her trip. However, when walking next to one Impala, she happened to notice that it was, well, occupied. And its occupant did not look very happy. He also happened to smell of alcohol. She raised a half-interested eyebrow.

Normally he'd be flirting a mile a second. Right now it was more a slightly interested smile.

"Admiring the scenery?"

This was when she would cross her arms and tilt her head back to look more intimidating, but unfortunately one of her arms is kind of, well, in use at the moment.

So her 'Oh pft, seriously?' face will have to do, "Not quite. More expressing my misplaced curiosity in why you're lying there."

"Can't a man relax by his car for a while?"

"Didn't say he couldn't," And Samus wasn't one to judge. She would readily hide away in her ship if she didn't have so many other things on her plate. "If it bothers you, I'll be on my way."

She turned slightly, ready to go on and finish her ship repairs if there were no further objections.

Dean considered and then waved her back.

"You're not bothering me."

Shit, her here improved the view a lot.

She stopped, shrugged, and placed her toolbox down and leaned against an adjacent car, "I'm not?" She never really considered her company that desirable. ~~The keyword be "she."~~

He shook his head, "Nah, you're not. What were you up to?" Gesturing casually to the toolbox.

"Got one of your babies out here too?" Yes he calls his car his baby. It's a thing.

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When he got the comm message, Sam sat there for a few moments just staring at it. It was true. No more Earth. No more worrying about Lucifer and Michael and the Apocalypse.

He wasn't certain if this was better or worse, somehow. At least the world ending hadn't been their fault. That, at least, he was pretty certain about.

Still, wasn't something he wanted to deal with alone and he'd guess that Dean probably didn't either. Or, at least, he wasn't GOING to deal with it alone. Which was why Sam headed down to the Impala, stopping at the hood for a moment to watch Dean before stepping forward. "Got any more of that?"

Dean wordlessly handed a beer to Sam, lounging back in the driver seat with a sigh.

After a few minutes, he just said, "I asked Stacy. She showed me. That's it."

He went around to climb in the passenger side. It felt right. A lot better than those four months when he'd been the sole driver. "Damn. I guess...maybe there was some part of me that was kind of hoping, you know? That it wasn't as bad as they were saying."

"Yeah me too," Dean answered. "Even though it would have meant the Apocalypse was still happening and we're up here with our thumbs up our asses in space somewhere." He didn't want to say how he watched his brother die again, trying to protect them. That even the angels were being cut down. Stupid dicks with wings, but he wasn't sure they deserved it.

"I just hope that Stacy better thought to grab some of them. That she didn't just save our sorry asses and not anybody else."

"I doubt she would have. I mean, if it's all about our stories and it being spread across the multiverse, there's lots of others caught up in our lives." Too many, in some ways. Not nearly enough in others. "Reckon there have to be a few from our world out there, at least."

"Yeah well she better have, or I don't care if she controls all this... I...shit." What was the point of raging at an AI for not saving enough? It never would have been enough, not by a long shot. All those people they saved over the years, all been ripped apart.

"So...looks like we're officially retired."

He glanced at Dean and raised an eyebrow. "You really think so?" he asked, sitting back and taking another swig of beer. "Because, I mean, it's not as fast and furious as it used to be, but we've not exactly hung up the rock salt and silver."

He considered that, "Retired from our so called destiny anyway. Least we don't have ever say yes. But let's face it, any case coming our way now going to be few and far between."

Dean shrugged, "I don't know, maybe you want to try giving law another shot is all I'm saying. Especially after that thing about starting a Council around here."