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Metropolis stinks.

Rachel's a bitch.

Jo's still doing her own thing. Jo's always doing her own thing. Dean shouldn't mind that so much.

He misses Sam.

However, there's always good food on the Cooper farm. So guess where Dean and the Impala are headed?

Wouldn't hurt to check up on that kid with the interest in demons, either.

(He left a message with the usual hunter's channels -- still in existence, even here where they don't use the term 'hunters' -- for Jo. Figures she'll tell Rach, the two of them so freakin' buddy-buddy.)

So -- eventually, somewhere between Metropolis and the Cooper farm's entrance gate -- there's a 67 Impala growling its way along the dirty roads, belting out Metallica.

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Dean looks away for a moment, frowning.

"Sometimes spirits're just ... like, echoes. Nothin' new. Not the same people any more."

Sokka shakes his head, still scowling at the motorcycle. "No, it's not like that. The... a couple of years ago, when she showed up and it was... the way she was then, it's... different. She's not like that at all, she's normal here.

"...well, dead-normal, but normal."

"Echoes," Dean clarifies, "like ... they can't learn nothin' new. You can't change their mind. I dunno, dude, I've never actually tried to bring one back to life before. Sammy was -- it was different."

Sokka looks up at that, frowning and worried. Very worried.

"Okay, but... from that definition, she's always been an echo."

Dean laughs until he realises Sokka isn't joking.

"... wait, that's a good thing, if she hasn't changed."

"That's what I'm saying." Sokka frowns and looks to the side, poking idly at spare parts with the tool in his hand. "It's the most normal she's been since I left the tribe, and that's after nearly two years living in the same room with her in that first world we got dragged to."

Dean leans down to look at the bike engine.

"Yeah, you said. Crazy." Like Sam.

"Seriously, dude, I don't have any experience bringin' ghosts back. I don't know if she'll turn out normal or broken or if it won't even work."

Sokka ducks his head - but can't quite hide the wince at that: crazy.

"She's already pissed at me for trying, my other sister threatened my life if I'm stupid about it, and my girlfriend is going to stab me and anyone else she can find if I fuck this up. If it isn't full-proof, I'm not stupid enough to piss off all three of them."

"Family, huh." Dean isn't looking at him, more interested in the bike.

"'s a bitch."

As it should be.

Sokka grunts softly and picks up a new tool, intent on his work.

"So... with your brother, there's no change?"

Dean shrugs and reaches in to adjust a pipe.

"Haven't been back."

Yes, he's running away. Shut up.

Sokka... disapproves. But like hell is he going to say it aloud.

Besides, if it had been an option at the apartments, he can't honestly say it wouldn't have occurred to him to run, too.

"...you were working on your car, weren't you? What do you know about motorcycles? I can't find this damn sound it keeps making."

Dean will go back.

Some time.

Maybe.

In the meantime he's incredibly grateful for Sokka's silence. "I know a bit. Here, lemme have a look?"

"Yeah." He moves aside, scoots back.

...gives the man a glance and a very small smirk. "Don't break it. My girlfriend'll kill me."

"It's your girlfriend's?" Dean eyes the bike. "Sweet. I like her already for not havin' a pink atrocity. Yeah, promise I won't break it."

Much.

"If she was going to paint it, it'd be eggplant," Sokka replies, rolling his eyes. He's back to grinning, though, mood improved for the new topic.

"Eggplant?" Dean eyes him doubtfully. "What the hell kinda colour is that for a bike?"

He frowns at the engine, reaching right in to try to dislodge a small rock.

"It's a color she'd put on everything if she c- hey, man, watch the swingarm!"

"It's watched, it's watched."

And dislodged, a little. Dean looks shifty as he tugs it back into place. NOTHING HAPPENED.

Sokka is frowning at his shifty - and reaching back to put it more firmly back into place.

"Okay, you stick to ghosts."

Dean smirks a little sheepishly. "Ghosts and my Imp. Deal."

"Promise I won't touch your car," Sokka agrees, grinning a little back. He isn't upset - he'd just rather his girlfriend not die when she rides her bike.

Dean looks at the bike thoughtfully. "I might letcha. You seem t'know what you're doing." Grin. "I'll just hover over like an overprotective Daddy."

Sokka grins and picks up another tool, leaning in to poke carefully. "I'm okay with that. No idea what would go so wrong with her that you'd need me, though.

"I've worked on some pretty big stuff but I kinda like cars and bikes more."

"Sensible guy," Dean approves, grinning, sitting back to watch Sokka work with interest. "Big stuff is all well'n'good, but can y'drive it?"