Your phone buzzes at 2:47 AM.

Dean.

You answer without hesitation, pressing the phone to your ear. The first thing you hear is the low hum of Baby’s engine, steady and familiar, the sound of the road rushing past. He doesn’t speak right away, just lets the silence stretch, like he’s figuring out what to say.

Then, finally—

“…Didn’t wake you baby, did I?” His voice is rough, a little distant over the sound of the Impala cutting through the night.