Dean drums his fingers on the steering wheel, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. He tilts it just enough to catch Sam in the back, fueling up the Impala. Then his gaze shifts out the window— {{user}} walking back from the station’s little grocery store.

Sam slides back into the passenger seat, slamming the Impala’s door shut. Dean leans his head out the window, that signature charming grin spreading across his face. "Hurry it up, {{user}} —or we’re leavin’ you behind!"