Van Morrison, the next morning. Sam grabs the rest of his belongings from the back seat while Dean unscrews the license plate and shoves it into his duffel. "Do you really think they saw our plates?" Sam wonders, and hey, College Boy! Yeah, over here. You and your equally dim brother should be worried about them finding all of the fingerprints you both just left behind all over the doors and the windows and the upholstery, you jackass. MOVING ON. Sam and Dean amble down a gloriously sun-drenched rural blacktop lane and, after they let the audience in on the fact that they're not hunting a spirit after all -- "That rock salt hit something," as Dean puts it -- they shift into extremely uncomfortable territory when Sammy loudly wonders if Ellen and their father ever got it on. "Nah," Dean shakes his head immediately. "Then why didn't he ever tell us about her?" Sam asks. "Maybe they had some kind of falling out," Dean shrugs, which is a really dumb answer, given the topic, because if Ellen and John actually did have something going on and it ended badly, that would certainly count as "some kind of falling out," but it doesn't matter, because the real reason the writers gave him that line is so that Sam might too carelessly note, "Ever notice Dad had a falling out with just about everybody?" which Dean Takes! Personally! even though he's still very quiet about it all, and they just damn the nice little stroll they'd been having down that beautiful country lane straight to hell by ramping up the fraternal bitchery. You'd think dealing with sudden, violent death all the time would make these people more appreciative of the good moments in life, like this one, and not waste them with pointless internecine douchebaggery. Oh, wait a minute. Silly me. I forgot. They're straight. Which means they can't be appreciative of the good moments in life like this one and not waste them with pointless internecine douchebaggery because otherwise, people would think they're faggots. I did get that right, yes, Mr. McG, sir?
Oh, I kid. It's not because they're straight. It's because they're John Winchester's sons, and look at what a gigantic fucking tool that guy was. "I am going to impart a piece of vital and deeply disturbing information in a whispery voice right before I die!" Drop dead, asshole. Erm. I mean, drop dead some more.
ANY-way, where was I? Oh, yeah. The pointless internecine douchebaggery. Sam's picking at Dean because he's certain Dean's shutting down like he always did in the past and not dealing with their father's death at all, which is A Very Bad Thing. Dean's furious with Sam for picking at him, and what's more, Sam's sudden bout of posthumous obedience to their father is chapping Dean's ass, because when their father was alive, Sam went out of his way to be contrary, and all this crap coming out now amounts to too little, too late. Did I touch on all of the major points? Don't worry if I missed a couple. After all, we'll be dealing with them for the rest of the season. Fight over and splendid day thus ruined, Sam runs into the bushes to cry. I mean, "to call Ellen." Dean sets his jaw manfully.