Dean didn't say anything. He just gave his brother a look that said it all. There was no Impala. There was no home. Dean, in that moment, was lost.
Sure, some people could call it a stupid car. They could call it a well loved tin can. Of course, many of those people would get a fist to the face, bread basket, or junk. They were fighting words.
The older hunter looked back at the jungle growth and shook his head. This was not what should happen. They could lose so much; they could even lose each other and their way at times, but to lose the last piece of home - the charms and whatnot they'd squirreled away into their apartments and elsewhere were safe, but charms and whatnot were not home.
"I..." he needed a drink, but he couldn't even bring himself to say that.