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Salvage
He’d watched for weeks as Dean slowly rebuilt himself along with the car.
He’d thought they were both goners; he hadn’t counted on John’s self-sacrifice or Sam’s stubbornness. When the boys came to him after, he guessed pretty quick that Dean’d figured out John; boy was too quiet, like he’d been when they’d first met and had never been since. But he’d asked for tools and started over. He maybe did a better job on the car than on himself, but spare parts for souls were harder to find.
Now he prayed Sam could fix himself at least as well.
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*Offers fresh box of Kleenex*
