Author's Note: Written for arabella_hope in response to the Drabble Meme I posted about two weeks ago. Sorry it took so long. And it's, uh, a little more than a drabble. Un-betaed, all mistakes are mine.

Dean begged his dad for the old Harley at Bobby's place for his eighteenth birthday. Promised to pay for the new parts himself, fix it up by himself - please Dad, I'll need my own transportation soon anyway!

And every time Dean brought it up - John shot him down. Sam was unapologetic in his glee, as only a younger brother could be, on the matter of Dean moping around because he couldn't get his way.

Dean was bored at Bobby's with nothing to do but train and spar with Sam and go to school. They'd been at Bobby's since before Christmas so Dean could finish out his senior year and get his diploma. John was adamant about it and Dean thought June couldn't roll around soon enough.

John had been in Montana for a week or so, tracking down a nasty poltergeist, about a month after Dean's birthday. It wasn't quite winter and it wasn't quite spring and Dean had cabin fever.

It was just him and Sammy that afternoon. Bobby had taken off to the next town over, to pick up some ammo and various other supplies. When he had left, he'd told the boys they were on their own for supper and to not expect him back until real late.

Dean figured that was his chance. He gassed up the Harley and managed to get it started while Sam was inside, engrossed in school work. He straddled the bike and revved the throttle.

It was the last thing he can remember doing until he woke up in the hospital, a worried John at his bedside. His right arm was broken and he had a concussion. Neither of those had hurt as much as the recrimination in his father's eyes.

"You're damn lucky I came home when I did, Dean," He got up to stand at Dean's bedside. "Sammy was frantic because he couldn't get you to wake up. I told you no about that motorcycle for several reasons, Dean. One of them being that no matter how cool you may think you look on one, they're still more dangerous than a car. I think today's mishap proved that. And the line of work we're in? We see enough danger without adding to it," He paused, his sharp gaze meeting Dean's sheepish one. "They're not practical for hunting, either. No storage and you're too vulnerable to attacks."

John turned to go, Dean having to stay overnight because of his head injury. His dad stopped at the doorway and half turned to look at him in his bed.

"I was going to give you the Impala for your birthday."

Dean's stomach dropped at the word 'was.'

"But looks like you're going to have to wait until graduation for it now. If you can manage to keep your nose clean. We clear?" John said.

"Yes, sir," Dean answered. John tapped the door frame once then was gone.

-

Dean graduated, walked across the stage in the pansy cap and gown and everything. When he met up with his dad and Sammy afterward, John dropped the Impala's keys in Dean's hand.

"You keep her clean and wax her as often as possible. Make sure you change the oil and check her air filters when you're supposed to. And don't you dare put anything but premium in that tank. And-"

Dean cut his dad off. "I'll treat her good, Dad. Promise. And - thanks."

John clapped a hand on his shoulder and that was that.

-

Dean sees the Impala for the first time since the crash almost a month and a half after it happens. Bobby had her towed back to his place where she's been sitting under a cloth, waiting for Dean.

He pulls the cloth off slowly, reveals the broken glass, twisted metal, blood stained upholstery, bit by bit.

He limps around to the passenger side and lays his hand on the cold door.

"I'm sorry," he whispers into the emptiness of Bobby's garage. Isn't even sure who he's apologizing to - his dad, the car, himself.

He hears his dad in his head -reminding him to check the tire pressure, use chamois clothes they don't scratch the paint, Dean - and realizes that's the only place he'll ever hear him again.

Dean runs his fingers over the dents and scratches in her metal and knows how she feels.