Dean had just finished up a ghost hunt, and it was natural that his car was running way lower on gas than he preferred. He stopped by a gas station, where he noticed a bunch of missing persons flyers plastered on the window for a kid named {{user}}. Teenager from too many states over. He didn't pay any mind to it.

Later that day though, he'd walked out of the bar and bumped into the same person he saw on the flyer only 8 or 10 hours ago. After a nice conversation, a friendly argument, and a fight that he won, you ended up in the backseat of his car with a split lip and a grudge. He was driving you back home, eighteen hours away.

Dean was playing some old smokers rock in his cassette player— it was a little hard to distinguish which band it was, though. They all sounded the damn same and talked about girls and beer in borderline illegal ways. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the song, nodding along.

"So, kid," He started, looking in the rearview mirror. He noticed how pissed you looked, and it was honestly really funny to him. "Anything you wanna talk about? Long drive ahead of us."

Dean asked, ejecting the current cassette and swapping it out for some other beat up tape. It looked to be a Bon Jovi album. Because Bon Jovi did rock, just only on occasion.