Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural, it's characters, or canon; or Transformers' ! The plot's just a small twisted piece of my vast and DERANGED imagination! Slightly AU set after "Swan Song". Don't own any of the songs or lyrics just clipped parts as the Metallicar's voice. LOVED the way Bumblebee used his stereo to talk! Thanks, Asya, for sticking this in my messed-up head! ;D
It's WAY late and Dean Winchester'd had a rough day at the shop. Boss yelled at him for a co-worker's miscalculation. Band saw blade kicked back and nearly took his hand. And every carpenter's greatest annoyance, he smashed his thumb with a hammer!
'Jesus was supposed to have been a carpenter, right? Well, what the Hell did he say when that happened?', Dean wondered ruefully when the howling curse raised eyebrows around the noisy building.
Yet still true to his former, and some may speculate, much missed life as a hunter, he silently checks the carefully laid out wards and sigils he hoped will keep that life from catching up to the present. Lisa and Ben had already turned in for the night, thankfully, leaving him to his nightly rounds in peace.
Starting in the rear of the house, he quietly slipped through the back door just long enough for the motion-sensor to register his presence and illuminate the entire yard.
'Flood lights, check!', one item checked off the mental list.
Satisfied, Dean locked the door while gently toeing over the floor mat to be sure the symbol painted underneath was still intact.
'Sigil, check!'
He worked his way through the kitchen into the dining room seeing to it that windows were locked and sills were lined with salt.
'Thank God Lisa never looks behind the curtains!'
Heading along the walls of the living room, a distant rumble from the side of the house had Dean's head snapping around. Even in his grave, his heart would jump to the tune of that mechanical growl. Charging to the kitchen window, he yanked back the rooster covered linen shielding the garage beyond.
'Anybody steals my Baby and they're friggin' dead!', he threatened, eyes scanning the dark for glints of chrome and glass. Knowing too well how the midnight paint camouflaged the body at night.
A car's headlights barreling down the road briefly etched out the beloved outline of the Impala. Sighing deeply, Dean pulled a hand down his face in relief. He took an extra minute to stare guiltily at the neglected classic, willing his heart to stop racing. He'd coasted her out tail first in neutral late into the afternoon with plans of washing her and turning over the motor. ONLY to make sure the engine hadn't seized, of course!
Heaven help him if Lisa caught wind of him actually, and this is Lisa for you, "driving that antique!" with a click of her tongue and disgusted eye roll. Hell! He felt supremely honored she allowed him to even keep his Baby in the garage. And DO NOT let Lis hear Dean call the car Baby… that's an even nastier can of worms!
"What the hell, Dean! That CAR is Baby and I'm only Lis or Lisa!"
"What the hell, LIS! I've had that car longer than you, she's taken care of more of my needs than you … and, at least, she doesn't always BITCH!"
'And, no, the couch was NOT that hard, thank you very much!'
Shaking his head, he sent the Impala out a silent apology, probably for the millionth time, through the glass and dark.
The cell phone had gone off unexpectedly and the afternoon went to pot.
RING Lisa: "Dean, can you pick up my dry cleaning?"
RING Ben: "Hey, man, practice is over. Were you at?"
RING Lisa: "Did you remember the bread and milk at the store earlier?"
RING Sid: "Up for a round of golf tomorrow?"
RING Lisa: "Sweetie, don't forget to get Ben after football practice!"
When Lisa had gotten home demanding WHY he'd stopped answering the damn thing, Dean had looked as innocent as a dog eating the Thanksgiving turkey.
"Sorry, Lis, I set it on the counter at the store and someone swiped it!", he tried, all the while trying very hard not to laugh, thinking of the contraption laying on the side of the road just outside of town.
He allowed himself a rare chuckle, letting the curtain fall back.
'Might have been that '72 GTO down the road' , rubbing the back of his neck, he returned to living room inspection. Seeing everything in place, he glanced out the front window for anything suspicious. A slight shiver ran Dean's spine, not from the sight of coal black eyes watching or a transparent figure gliding behind the neighbor's living room window, but at the sight of the piss-yellow pickup at the curb.
'If you weren't useful for work, I'd drive ya to the nearest junk yard and crush ya myself! Friggin' Ford!', the corners of his mouth turning down and nose wrinkling as the fabric got pulled closed.
Half way up the stairs to check on Ben and shuffle to bed himself, the music of an old motor growled again.
GGGGRRRR-RRROOOOMMMM
He shrugged with a grin without even looking back down the stairwell.
Dean looked through the crack in the door to see Ben peacefully tuckered out. As he was turning to leave, pulling the door behind him, the whirling of an engine and flash of headlights grabbed his attention. Swiftly creeping across the room so as not to wake the boy, he idled up to the window looking down on the driveway. Confusion then anger wrapped around Dean's heart as he helplessly watched his Baby back up on the blacktop toward the garage.
'Oh-ho, NO! Some SOB's going to pay big for screwing with MY girl!'
Bare feet barely made a sound as he flew out of the bedroom, down the stairs two at a time, and hardly had enough time to unlock the backdoor before rushing to the Impala's side. Fists clenched and ready, not knowing what to expect, he dove at the now open passenger window.
"Whoever you are, dude, you are so DEAD!," Dean growled as he flung his torso into the car to swing at….
NOTHING
'What the Hell? No way they had enough time to back in, park, AND take off before I got here!'
Staring around the interior that was vibrating from the power of the still running motor, he 'humph' scratching his head. A quick inspection revealed nothing damaged or missing. The Impala was simply sitting in the driveway humming to herself as if it were normal to go for a late night ride… with NO DRIVER.
"What? Is there an evil green comet going overhead like in 'Maximum Overdrive'?," Dean asked the night. Extracting himself from over the door frame, he took a couple steps back marveling at the black beauty purring in front of him. As if in answer, Baby's motor revved twice and a the gurgling of swiftly changing radio stations made him jump a foot. Wrapping his arms around his head, Dean stood dumbfounded and watched as the scan knob stopped spinning and the volume turn up to a whisper. Music and singing gently cooed to him:
Drive my poor heart hazy
Just a little bit
A little while with you
Come on baby,
Let's ride away in the rain
As the volume cranked down to a dull thrum, her driver's door popped itself open with a creak. Dean shook his head in disbelief when the engine sputtered a few times sounding eerily like a giggle.
"No freaking WAY! I've seen boat loads of crazy, but this takes the cake!"
The Impala giggled again while the radio sought a reply.
Crazy…
Crazy for feeling this way
"Yeah, right?," he confirmed with a laugh, "Ah, man! I gotta be dreaming!"
Sweet dreams are made of these
Who am I to disagree
A genuine laugh bubbled out of throat for the first in a long while. Stretching his arm out like he's trying to ward off the Devil, Dean slowly walked around the back of her. As he moved to put a hand on the widened door, he questioned her, "You know I love you more than anything? Well, no offense, except Sam. Right, Baby?"
The stereo static growled a moment till it settled on some thing appropriate.
I love you
You love me
We're a hap-py fam-a-ly
Unable to hold back the image of a big purple dinosaur be bopping behind the steering wheel, Dean patted her affectionately on the roof as he slid into driver's seat.
When he ran his finger tips over the dash, Baby choked down her idle. The deep throated purr from under the hood reminded Dean, for all the world, like a kitten getting scratched under the chin.
"Alright, sweetheart! Now that ya got me, where're we gonna go? ," he murmured back.
We're taking care of business
Uh-huh
Taking care of business
Alright
Without another sound, the gear shifter dropped into 'drive' and Dean, trusting his girl, laid his hands in his lap. Smoothly, the gas pedal sank and the wheel turned expertly exiting the driveway.
The former hunter contently sat back and smiled out into the night. He was finally back in the only home he'd ever truly known. But watching the moon shine down on her sleek hood, the emptiness of the passenger seat started to weigh on him.
'Damn it, Sammy! I wish you where here to see this!'
Sensing the darkening mood in her cabin, Baby quietly questioned her master.
Oh Sammy
My flap slappy clam ma'am
We've come
To take you home
But Sammy where are you
Sammy where are you
"He's gone, Baby. And we can't get him back.", he whispered to her, biting his lip.
Oh Sam
We've come to take you home
With your shining teeth of gold
And your soul you said you sold
We've come to take you there
She turned down the volume for a few seconds, waiting for the part of the song she wanted to continue with.
And your soul you said you sold
Into my little pocket
We put it all away
To save you up for another day
Wiping away the tears that had escaped, Dean drew a heart wrenched sigh and turned to stare out the door window. Knowing better than to push him more, the Impala turn the knob all the way over until the stereo clicked off.
Car and owner drove silently through the silent night with only the steady rumble of her motor and the pounding of his heart to fill the void.
As the neighborhood turned to rural country side, Dean sat unaware, so drowning in his girl's worry for his brother, that he had failed to notice something else missing. Something missing as they'd pulled away from Lisa's.
The piss-yellow Ford pickup that was no longer at the curb.