Sam woke up groggy in that kind of way that only a hot summer day nap can induce. He felt relaxed and rested but a bit disoriented; his head still piecing together the circumstances of him waking up sweaty and hot on a mildly itchy plaid sofa. That alone told Sam that everything was fine. If there was something wrong then he would have woken up completely alert and ready for action. Sam let himself lounge a little longer, relishing in the carefree indulgence. Being able to lie around with nothing better to do was a rare opportunity for the Winchester brothers and Sam soaked it up. He guessed that this feeling was what normal people referred to when they mentioned lazy Sundays. As he lay there listening to a fly buzz madly around the room he felt a vague pang of loss for the ordinary life he might have lead; it would definitely be nice to do this once a week. Then again he figured most people couldn't appreciate the luxury that it was because they had no frame of reference.
Sam no longer wished for that life; just every once in a while he felt that the creature comforts that came with that lifestyle would be nice. There was no point in dwelling on that thought however, so Sam peeled himself off the couch and stood; arms out in front of him and then up in the air in a giant stretch. He laughed as he noticed himself making that weird whiny gurgly sound that you only ever make when you stretch. He tried to think of any other activity that elicited that sound and came up short. People have a stretching sound, interesting. He filed that thought away for future contemplation while he padded over to the fridge to grab a drink. Damn it was hot.
They were in Louisiana and it was the height of summer. Sam had long ago given up the process of trying to piece together just how they ended up in a particular place and why; things just had their own way of happening and thinking about it wasted too much brain power. So at this moment in time Sam found himself standing in his boxer shorts drinking ice tea from the jug in some backwater cabin in Louisiana where they had decided to take a bit of time to rest. The stupid fly was still buzzing around wildly, repeatedly slamming itself into the wall looking for a means of escape. Every window in the place and the front and back doors were open and still this dumb fly couldn't find a way out. Sam wondered how the species had managed to survive at all.
The quiet in the small cabin, other than the buzzing of the retarded fly, led Sam to the conclusion that Dean was either sleeping or not inside. If his brother was awake and inside there would be a myriad of telltale sounds; the tv,radio, humming, singing, chewing, banging, shuffling, cursing, a pick apart commentary directed toward the tv/radio or other inanimate object not doing it's desired task, out of sync hand drumming while Dean extoled the virtues of a specific musical rift etc, etc. Dean could sit for hours on stakeout without ever moving or making a sound and he could do quiet brooding like no one else Sam knew, but he was never quiet when he was relaxed. As if to prove the point Sam heard Dean's muffled voice coming from outside the front door. He grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and filled them before heading out to the porch. He intended to call out to Dean and have him join him on the porch swing, but what he saw when he stepped outside changed his mind. He took a seat on the swing and watched his brother with amusement.
Dean was in just his jeans, no shirt or shoes and he was lovingly rubbing slow circles on the hood of the Impala with a one of his old shirts. It looked more like he was caressing a lover than waxing his car and the soft cooing words that flowed from his mouth with every stroke only enforced the image. Sam sat back with a grin on his face and listened.
" ... feels nice doesn't it Baby. Let me tell you, you look great for your age, still catch everyone's eye. I bet all the other cars are jealous when you drive up, they just hope they're still runnin after 50 years and here you are still turnin heads. Don't go tryin to act all modest, you know it. Don't worry, I'll never let you fall apart and then replace you like all those other unappreciative douche bags. You're like a fine wine Baby, just gonna get better with age. You think this feels good? After I'm done with this gonna change your oil and adjust all your valves and you're gonna feel better than new ..."
Sam had long since made peace with Dean's love affair with the Impala. He had to admit that it still nagged at the back of his mind that Dean used the same "pet name" for him as he did the damned car. It never sunk in during the heat of the moment when Dean would call him "Baby" in that rich gravelly voice but quite often afterward Sam wondered if some part of Dean mentally compared him to the Impala. It was never just "the car", God no; it was always "the Impala" or "Baby". Then again Sam supposed that it had the nickname before he did. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Sure, Sam liked the car and saw the necessity of keeping it in good shape, but in the grand scheme of things any car would do. In fact another car would probably suit their needs better. Sam was sure that there was another vehicle that would have the same kind of performance that would better suit their need for anonymity, not to mention get better gas mileage and have more room for the times when they had to sleep in it. Sam had broached the subject only once. It had not gone well. Besides, the Impala seemed to make Dean happy and that was good enough reason for Sam to keep it around.
It was obvious that Dean was relaxed and completely immersed in his current task because he had yet to notice Sam. When he wiped away the last bit of wax he stood back for a moment of admiration and then nodded with a smile and headed toward the trunk. That was Sam's cue. Dean was digging out his tools and Sam knew than once Dean got under the hood it would take nothing short of the wrath of God to distract him.
Sam grabbed the two cold sweating glasses and headed down the stairs to the shaded spot where Dean had parked. Dean was setting out his tools in some bizarre order that only he could understand and Sam leaned on the side of the car and held out one of the glasses. "It's hot, you should drink something."
"Thanks" Dean grabbed the glass and downed most of it in one gulp. Dean's posture never changed as Sam had approached and he now started to think that Dean had known he was being watched from the second Sam had stepped onto the porch. That wouldn't be surprising since Dean was always hyper aware of his surroundings; what was surprising is that Dean had allowed Sam to see his affectionate display. He had heard Dean go on about the Impala a million times, but his narrative almost exclusively consisted of graphic innuendo, male posturing and humorous commentary made in very poor taste. This was different.
Sam took a sip of his iced tea as he looked at his brother. His hair was tussled and sweaty and he could already spot a few new freckles on Dean's face from being in the sun. They must be some kind of supernatural strain of freckles that only Sam could see because no matter how pronounced they were Dean insisted that he did not have any freckles. "Looks good" Sam stated while looking over the car.
"Yeah, thought I would take some time to get her back in tip top shape; been neglecting her lately." Dean pointed his finger at Sam with a mock serious expression on his face. " And when a girl stops feeling appreciated is when everything goes to shit" He said it so matter of factly that Sam started to chuckle. "What? It's true"
"You make it sound like she is your wife or mistress or something. You know that she is just a car right?" Sam said through a smile.
Dean looked stricken. "Just a car?" He said in the same manner he would respond in if Sam had said Zeppelin was just some band.
Sam's smile faded. He knew that Dean was insanely attached to the damn thing but he didn't think that Dean would take his comment so seriously. He wished he could just take it back but he knew that it was too late.
"She's a lot more than just a car Sam." Sam was struck by the intensity in the tone of his brother's voice. "She's saved our ass more times than I can count. It only makes sense that we should take care of her in return don't you think?"
Sam started to feel a little guilty which in turn made him feel foolish. It was a car, not like it's feelings could be hurt, but obviously the same couldn't be said for his brother. This was apparently something that was quite important to him. "I didn't mean anything by it Dean." Dean just nodded and took a small sip of his iced tea. Sam sighed. Dean could be impossible sometimes. He seemed so cocksure and carefree but Sam knew just how complicated his brother could be. Especially since he would never just come out and say what was actually bothering him. "Look Dean I'm sorry ok? I like the Impala, I really do it's just..." Sam paused to choose his words very carefully. " ... It's just sometimes the way you talk about it makes it sound like it's a member of the family or something. I was just teasing. Don't take it so seriously"
"You don't think that she is?" Dean spoke very softly and the words took Sam by surprise. His brother was looking at him in a confused questioning way that threw Sam for a total loop. He had no idea what to say.
"Ok... I guess... I never really... uh..."
"Think about it Sam." Dean stated as he stared intently at his brother. "She has spent most of her life hunting. She's had her temperamental moments but she's never let us down when it really counted, plus she's taken her fair share of ass kickings, hell even died once, but here she is alive and kicking despite all the odds. She even has her own anti possession tattoo!" Dean spoke like he was lecturing a selfish child and he got more agitated with every point that he made. It seemed he was about to go on but then thought better of it. "That makes her a Winchester in my book." He stated with conviction.
"Wow." Sam said, truly stunned. He knew that Dean was attached to the car, but this new revelation was a surprise. If he were an ordinary person he would be convinced that Dean was insane. The freaky part was that he could kind of see his brother's point when it was put to him like that. Sam had never once considered any of those things, he just assumed that Dean loved the car because it was fast, sleek and shiny and pretty damn cool.
Of course Dean misinterpreted his brother's reaction and Sam watched as Dean deflated like a balloon.
"Ok, that sounded really stupid, it's just..." Sam knew his brother was backtracking; he realised what he had just admitted out loud and now he was trying to downplay it. "Forget it." Dean drank the last of his iced tea, placed the glass on the ground and busied himself wiping down his hands that weren't dirty. As far as Dean was concerned the conversation was over; classic Winchester avoidance technique.
"It's just what Dean?"
"I'm an idiot ok! Ha! Ha! You had your fun now leave me alone."
Dean started rearranging his tools in a way that ended up with them being exactly where they were in the first place. His unexpected outburst told Sam the importance of what Dean had stopped himself from saying. If Dean didn't really care he would have just thrown back mocking insults about his brother's choice of froofy beverages, long girly hair, his emo taste in music or any number of other standard jabs that Dean kept close at hand in case the opportunity to use them again arose.
"I wasn't mocking you Dean." No response. "Come on Dean. It's just what? Tell me."
Just as Sam was about to give up hope of any kind of answer Dean sighed and leaned against the hood. "It sounds stupid." Dean said as he watched his toes kneed into the grass below them.
Sam leaned on the hood next to his brother and took a sip of his now warming drink to collect his thoughts. If he said the wrong thing Dean would close off and never speak of it again and he was genuinely curious. "It won't sound stupid Dean. Think about the things we talk about. Most of that sounds bat shit crazy yet to us it makes perfect sense. Come on, tell me. It's just what?"
Dean let out a resigned sigh. "When I was little, when Mom..." Dean cleared his throat. " ..after.. it was all so crazy. Dad was a mess, you were always crying and I just missed her so much. Everything changed so fast. Dad just packed us in the car one day and took off. Everything that I had ever known was just gone."
Sam felt a clench in his gut. Dean almost never talked about back then and when he did it was always vague. He couldn't imagine what his brother went through. He wanted to comfort him and tell him that it was ok, but it wasn't ok and never would be. So he listened.
"I was so scared you know? Dad was nearly falling apart, I was only a kid but I knew. I would lay awake at night and wonder if I was gonna lose him too, lose you." Dean took a couple large breaths and Sam realised just how difficult this was for him. He had carried around this pain for thirty years. "I had already lost him in a way. He was different. Distant you know, closed off. I get it, it had to have been so hard for him, I just... he would still hug me and ruffle my hair but it wasn't the same somehow. I never knew where we were or where we were going and I was terrified that any minute something would come and take you and Dad away. I almost never left your side. You seemed so small and helpless and if I wasn't watching you every second then something could just snatch you when Dad wasn't lookin."
Dean sniffed and cleared his throat. "Anyway, back then we travelled a lot more. No school or anything to tie Dad down so we just kept going. A lot of nights he wouldn't even stop, we'd just drive the whole night through. I liked that better actually cause the car... the Impala, it was the one thing that was the same. It was familiar. The only time I could ever just be comfortable was in the back seat of this car." Dean patted the hood softly as he spoke. "She seemed so big and strong and fast and I was sure that nothing could ever get us when she was flying down the road. The motion seemed to soothe you and you slept most of the time and I would just lie on the seat soaking in everything that was familiar, that was from before when Mom was... The way it smelled, the way the vinyl would feel, how it would warm up under my skin." Dean paused and smiled. It was clear to Sam that his thoughts were a hundred miles away.
"Most of all it was the sound, that soothing sound of the tires on the pavement and that ever-present rumble of her engine. I would lay there in the dark, not knowing where we were going or what was gonna happen and it wouldn't seem so scary. It was like she singing to me, soothing me, rocking me to sleep; Like she was telling me that it was ok to relax, that she would protect us. " Dean was caressing the hood while he spoke and Sam doubted that he was even aware that he was doing it. With every word that his brother spoke Sam found himself understanding Dean's obsession with the Impala a little bit more, even feeling grateful. He would never share the same affection for it, but he would certainly appreciate it a whole lot more.
Dean chuckled softly and smiled." Sounds stupid but I was only four and I just don't know what I would have done if I didn't have that. To this day she still soothes me like that." Sam noticed his brother's cheeks redden slightly at the confession. "When I'm angry or when everything just seems like too much I know I can jump in and drive and listen to that soothing rumble and it clears my head... like she's still singing to me; soothing me, calming me down. All our lives she's been there, the one thing that never changed." Dean looked directly at his brother for the first time. "She's home Sam."
Sam found himself thinking back on all the time they had spent in the Impala; the good times and the bad. So many monumental moments had happened while in that car. Dean pulled him out of his reverie.
"Plus she's friggin cool."
"Yeah Dean, she's cool." Sam knew that the conversation was over and Dean would go on with his business like it never happened. Sam would never forget though, and he would never look at the Impala the same again. His brother had a very unique way of looking at things and most of the time Sam couldn't figure out where he was coming from but in this case Sam had to admit that Dean's point of view made a lot of sense in that bizarre way that only applied to their strange lives. Dean never ceased to amaze him. Just when he thought that he has him figured out he would find another layer. He was like those wooden dolls that kept opening to yield yet another little doll inside.
"It's fucking hot."
"It's Louisiana in the middle of summer Dean." Dean only grunted in response.
"Guess I should get back at it." Dean stated as he picked up his glass only to notice that it was empty. He handed the glass to Sam. "And you should get me more to drink."
Sam took the glass "Yeah right." He jumped off the car and headed toward the cabin listening to Dean's melodramatic pleas.
"Oh come on Sam! You don't want me gettin heat stroke do ya? Out here, slaving away in the blistering sun..."
Sam rolled his eyes. Dean was still yelling from outside even though they both knew damned well that Sam was going to bring him another drink. As he poured the last of the cool liquid into the glass he thought about what Dean had just told him. He had always believed that he had never had a home but now he wasn't so sure. After all home is where the heart is and his heart belonged to Dean. So if the Impala was Dean's home then he supposed it was his home too. Guess you learn something new every day.
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