A little early fic for my birthday buddy, the most important object the Winchesters ever had, Baby. Idea came to me from the monologue Chuck gives about her in Swan Song.

Enjoy, and Happy 50th Birthday Baby!


"It never occurred to them that, sure, maybe they never really had a roof and four walls... but they were never, in fact, homeless."

When Dean was younger, he remembered being given a sheet of paper to do every school year, an "All About Me" type of activity where the teacher basically got to learn a little bit about you on the first day. One of the questions was to draw your home and family and every time Dean drew his mom and his dad and himself and little Sammy all outside their big house. He'd draw the tree in the front and all of them would be smiling standing outside of it. And he drew that same picture every year, even when he wasn't in school (the pictures would always be hung up on the fridge and when his father came home, he'd act all surprised and proud, ruffling Dean's hair and telling him what an incredible artist he was), up until he was four years old.

When he was four years old, a fire started in Sammy's nursery and took his mom and his home as well. His father and Sammy and him left, taking very few toys and clothes before driving away in the impala and never looking back. When Dean when to a new school, he had to draw his house and his family and for the first time, Dean didn't know what to draw. He wanted to draw a picture of the four of them, standing outside their big pretty house with the tree in the yard, all smiling but it made him sad. His mom wasn't here anymore and their house was gone and to try and draw it like it once was felt wrong. So Dean didn't draw a picture of his family or house that year.

No matter how many schools he visited right after the incident, he didn't draw his family or home because it was broken and missing pieces that made it what it once was.

It wasn't until he was seven did he draw a picture of his family and house again. He had been to at least ten different schools in the last few years and every single one he decided he wouldn't draw his house or family because it still hurt to draw them. Dean didn't know what his home was, because they hardly stayed long in some places. Motels were home, they were little rooms the Winchesters would stay in for a couple days, maybe a couple weeks if they were lucky. Dean didn't have his own room, like before, or a box of toys and bookshelf like his old room had. In the motels Dean and Sammy shared a bed, one much bigger than Dean's old one and it made him feel like a grown up. But Dean didn't want to be a grown up.

The motels smelled funny and they were dirty, with no backyard and swing set or T-Ball stand to practise with. Motels were lonely and dark and scary and they weren't home.

So when Dean drew what his home was, he drew the impala. He and his brother spent so much time in that car and she made him feel safe. The impala was like his old home, full of warmth and music and kept him dry when it rained. She didn't smell funny or have dirty blankets or yucky feeling carpets. In the impala his father also smiled, just a little bit, but much more than when he did in the impala. It was the one piece of their old home they never lost. Toys and books and pieces of clothing they had brought from their old home were left behind, whether it be due to a rush or just misplacement but the impala was always there. She stayed with the Winchester boys through everything and she felt like home. And when Dean drew his family, he drew himself and Sammy and Dad.

Years passed and the two boys grew older but still the impala stayed. She would sometimes rattle when the heat went on, that due to Dean accidentally dropping Lego pieces down the vents, and there was a toy army man stuck in the ashtray Sam had accidentally shoved in there but that just made her special. When their father had been particularly long while getting stuff from the gas station store, Dean had pulled out the small switchblade his father had given him for his eighth birthday, carving his initials into the back of the impala, right where the rear window was. Beside the "D.W" was "S.W" Sam having borrowed his big brother's knife to carve his own initials beside his brother's. And when John had noticed it, he only gave a small smile and shook his head, although he didn't add his (that somehow though didn't upset the brothers.) Their initials carved into her were something special just the two of them shared.

And when Dean was asked to draw his family and his house, he drew the three of them in front of the impala, smiling.

For Sam though, it was different. He never had memories of their mother or their old home, being only six months old when the fire happened. Instead, he grew up in motels and the impala, travelling across the country. But every time he was asked to draw a picture of his house and family, without doubt he drew the impala and himself and Dean standing outside of it with big smiles. His father had been with them originally, but as Sam grew older, he stopped including John. His father wasn't always around and more often than not, it was Dean who acted like his mom and dad so Sam only drew Dean. At times, Paster Jim or Uncle Bobby would make it into the drawing, but the one thing that stayed consistent was Dean and the Impala.

She was their home and was with them through it all. She took them to safety after a hunt, shielding their injured bodies away from harm, kept they dry during thunderstorms and took the Winchesters where ever they wanted to go without problem. She was their bed when they didn't have enough cash, and she was their chair when they wanted to look up at the stars. The impala never left.

When Sam got older and decided to leave to go to Stanford, it was the impala who took him to the bus stop with Dean driving. His heart had broken as he got out, eyes flinting to the toy soldier in the ash tray and their initials carved on the inside because it wasn't just a car. He was leaving behind the last little bit of his life behind to start fresh, losing the last family member he had and the only home he knew. Returning though, all those years, and sitting back in her leather seat, Sam felt whole again. He had returned home, even just for a short while and with Dean at his side, Sam forgot he had another life elsewhere. He forgot about Jessica, about law school, about classes and assignment, just for a little bit and instead allowed himself to relax.

After the car crash, where the demon had drove a semi into her side, Sam felt so lost and alone. His father was wounded, brother dying, and the only home he had ever had was wrecked. Smashed and dented like an empty coke can and Sam had nowhere to go. Stanford was gone and his sanctuary ruined, no longer safe. That was why the first thing Dean did when they made it out of that hospital, hearts raw after their recent loss, was fix her up. He'd spend hours and hours in Bobby's yard, fixing every dent and scratch, building her basically up from the foundation because he wasn't going to let go of their home. They had already lost Dad and it was just them, and he was not going to let her go as well. So he fixed her, stayed up long hours, working himself to the bone to restore the home he once had and when he was finished, she looked just as good as before.

Sitting back in those leather seats brought the boys comfort and safety, a feeling they hadn't had when borrowing Bobby's old trucks for hunting. Looking around them, they noticed that Dean never got rid of the army man still shoved in the ash tray or their initials carved into the interior and Sam was quite certain the Lego pieces were still there in the vents because those little things made her theirs. And when Dean turned her on, they both smiled at the familiar rumble, a sweet purr in their ears. Their home was back.

She took them all around the country, welcoming new faces inside, and helping the two brothers save many lives. No one understood why the Winchesters clung so much to her, why they took such great care of the car but that was because she was more than just a car. She had become something so much more to the Winchesters.

When Sam faced off against the Devil, looking the Archangel Michael right in the eye, she had been there. Dean had leaned against her, pinning by a being who wore his brother's skin, speaking to his brother's form, reassuring him he wasn't leaving. That he was here. And looking at the car through his eyes, Sam fought back, took control as every memory he had pushed down the Devil. Not many knew, but the impala helped stopped the Apocalypse, allowed for Sam to gain control and throw himself (and the Archangel Michael) into a Cage in Hell to save the world.

The impala was there when the seals were breaking, when Lucifer walked the earth, when Leviathan escaped. She was there when the angels fell and the Darkness rose; she cradled Dean's dead body and Sam's as well. She protected them from monsters, sheltered them when it rained, provided safety when the world got too much. Despite those who came and went, she never left the boys.

And when Dean smiled at his brother, bloody and bruised, much like her, he said, "Let's go home" Sam only returned the smile, correcting him that they were home.

Because although they had the Bunker, and a real bed that was a building. It was made of concreate and stone and wood, full of books and knowledge but lacked the memories the impala had.

So if you were to ask the Winchesters to draw a picture of their home, still to this day they would draw the impala, with the two of them standing beside her, smiling.