"Dean, slow down."

"What's the matter, Sammy?" Dean said mockingly. "You think we're going too fast?

"Yes," Sam answered, eying the speedometer, which had just skittered past ninety.

"What's the magic word?"

Sighing, Sam didn't answer, just turned away to look out the passenger window as the Impala burned down the highway.

"Come on, Sammy," Dean goaded him, turning the wheel to corner around a snake crossing the road. "Speak up!" He laughed derisively.

Sam kept his silence.

Dean snorted. "Yeah, that's what I thought." He pushed his foot down hard on the accelerator and the Impala bucked, surging forward.