She wasn't nearly as quiet as she thought she was, but Dean wasn't really upset at being woken up- he still hadn't managed to place her in the 'ok' noise section of his brain. And to be perfectly honest, he was surprised he'd slept for three hours without her waking him up.

The hum of the Impala coursed through him, relaxing his body back into a sleepy rhythm, and not for the first time he was glad that there was someone else in his life to help him take care of Sammy (and, begrudgingly, him, too). It was nice to fall asleep in the car for once, instead of trying to ignore the lullaby his brother's soft snores always created; nice to be able to lean his head against the cool window and glance out at the stars as they passed the sleepy purple countryside.

Her soft singing changed tune, and he hazily recognized Hallelujah as she turned the defrost on. Her voice wasn't anything beautiful, and he knew she'd be embarrassed if she ever found out he woke up to her singing, but he wasn't about to tell her anytime soon. It was comforting in a way even the feeling of his car eating up the road couldn't compare to; and he knew that, too, would embarrass her.

She didn't sing daintily, nor did she hit every note perfectly, but the way she sang never sounded shoddy. She always sang with care during the rare nights that she drove. He could hear her heart in the soft notes she chose- her voice a bit too smoky to hit the higher notes, so she chose a lower melody and let the singers carry the songs, instead playing back-seat fiddle to them.

But while her singing wasn't great (even though it was comforting), her humming was beautiful, and he always tried to stay awake long enough to hear her hum a song. He never managed to make it through an entire one, though.

Because somewhere between the cold distant stars, the soft breeze of her slightly rolled down window, and the sound of her heart beating in the form of her song, he fell asleep.