A/N: Hello readers! So, everyone who read the original fic seemed to love it so much, and human!Impala as a character so much, that I decided to continue the story with this multi-chapter monster that rewrites most of season 5! Yay! (It also doesn't help that I truly loved writing her human character as much as I did. All those car analogies were fun!)

Since I originally planned on the first fic in this series to be a one-shot only, I didn't specify when it happened; I just set it up so it could be squeezed into the Season 5 canon whenever.

However, now I want to play around with the major canon episodes, so things are going to be out of order, completely removed, etc.. As long as you know the main plot points for season 5 you should be fine.

Chapter One

Dean's brilliant green eyes opened wide as his body surged upright in fear, gasping loudly as he awoke with a start. Sweat soaked the t-shirt and pair of boxers he slept in; his whole body shivered and his heart pounded so hard it hurt his chest. He paused, momentarily unsure where he was, until the disco ball hanging over his bed reminded him of exactly where he was.

He was in another craptastic motel room, on the road with Sam. They'd just finished up a completely normal, had-nothing-to-do-with-the-Apocalypse case, and he'd downed a few beers at a local bar before returning to the room a few hours ago. He didn't drink nearly enough, it seemed, considering the nightmares that tormented his sleep.

Dean blinked a couple times and found Sam slumped over the small table along the opposite wall, his laptop open in front of him but the screen black. The snores that drifted from him confirmed that he was merely asleep. Why Sam had fallen asleep in front of his computer was the question. They'd just finished a case; even Sam usually waited at least 8 hours before he started looking for another one.

Shaking his head, Dean managed to quietly pad over to his giant of a brother slouched over the table and shook Sam's shoulder just enough to wake him up, but not enough to startle him into swinging. Dean had gotten a few black eyes over the years when he'd startled his little brother awake.

"Yo, Sammy, it's bedtime. Come on, Sam, even nerd-geniuses gotta sleep," Dean said gruffly. Sam woke up long enough to walk over to his bed, take off his boots and face-plant himself into the pillow, snoring before he'd even landed.

Feeling awake, Dean felt a little thrill of mischief when he glanced at the laptop again. Curiosity got the best of him, and he turned on the screen to find several website tabs open.

"Please be porn," Dean whispered to himself. If it was, he would tease Sam with it mercilessly. Unfortunately Sam had gotten good at covering his tracks but the big brotherly urge was too strong and the set-up too perfect.

What he got was not what he was expecting. Sure, there were a couple tabs for CNN and a couple other global news sites—the usual stuff a hunter who wanted to keep an eye on things would have open. Things got interesting when Dean clicked through the rest of the tabs, his smirk becoming a frown.

Golems seemed to be Sam's obsession. Every professional hunter and amateur hack website with even a mention of the things was open. Hell, there were even a couple pages about movies with golems in it open on his laptop.

Golems are creations of—

Golems usually are created by—

Usually created as manifestations of protection, -based on personal connection to the inanimate object

Golems are the ultimate slave race—

Useful as stooges, bodyguards—

Powerful, deadly, loyal, with no personality or wit—

Dean almost broke the lid of the laptop, he slammed it down so hard. He got up and tried to stomp to the refrigerator in the room but the shag carpet ate up his footfalls. He yanked out the sole survivor of the six-pack he'd brought back earlier. Grabbing his balled up clothes, he yanked on his jeans, a Henley long-sleeve, boots, and jacket. He stuffed the beer into his pocket before sneaking out their front door, careful to leave the line of salt untouched.

Behind the door, Sam snored on.

Normally he wouldn't do anything to draw attention to himself but Dean wasn't really in the mindset to care about petty things like public intoxication, or even getting arrested for it. Since they had been at the motel for several days, he had yet to see anything resembling a police presence or even other guests. He decided he could screw the rules tonight.

Moving like the professional cat burglar/ninja he was, Dean silently hopped onto the parked Impala's hood just a few feet from his room, not even getting a scruff of dirt on the shining black finish of his pride and joy. He scooted his butt up the hood until he could recline against the windshield and leaned back to stare up into the night sky.

His breath came out in little puffs of fog against the cool night air; the sky was ink and drizzled with millions of stars. It is truly beautiful country out here, Dean thought to himself, silently sipping from the beer out of habit rather than need.

"The stars are beautiful," a gruff voice said next to him, and Dean didn't even react except to give the trench-coat wearing angel a once-over, just to make sure he wasn't injured.

Dean nodded. "That's something we can agree on."

The hunter's eyes softened slightly when a he gazed a few seconds too long at the angel next to him, whose eyes were glued to the star-studded expanse above them. Though they hadn't known each other long, it was difficult to remember a time when Castiel wasn't hovering nearby. Of course, that could have had something to do with his utter lack of understanding personal space, but Dean had gotten used to Castiel's quirks long ago.

Dean chuckled. Seemed like Castiel did perch on his shoulder, despite what he said to Dean the second time they ever spoke. Back then they were simply the Righteous Man and the Angel of the Lord; oh, how the raising of Lucifer had changed everything.

Dean Winchester never thought he'd consider one of his best friends a legitimate Angel, and yet here he was, sipping beer and star-gazing with one. Even if his life could be measured in decibels of crazy, this would still read off the charts.

Dean offered the half-drunk bottle to Cas. "Want some?"

Castiel shook his head. "No, thank you. I've learned my lesson about alcohol."

Dean snickered slightly. "Cas, everyone's got that one awkward drunk story. Besides, it wasn't even that bad. You should see Sam on a bender sometime," Dean joked.

Castiel gave him a disbelieving look, but he turned back to looking up at the sky. "Shouldn't you be sleeping, Dean?"

"I'll sleep when I'm dead. Permanently," he added after a moment's thought.

Castiel cast a sideways glance at him and sighed. "Nightmares again?"

Dean bit his lip for a moment, mulling over exactly what to say. He wanted to deny it, put on a show of bravado for his angelic friend. However, the stars, the beer, the lack of sleep, something was making the idea of lying feel…wrong. He was too drained to argue, that much he was sure of.

"Yeah, nightmares," Dean said, running a hand through his hair. "The usual. Hell, Mom dying, Sammy dying, me dying—I think I'm starting to see a pattern here—the end of the world, teletubbies—"

Castiel gave him a narrow-eyed look and Dean held up his hands. "Dude, they have little T.V.s in their stomachs! How is that not sick and twisted?"

If Dean hadn't spent so much time learning to speak Castiel, he would have missed the tiny upturned corner that was a smirk in angel-ese.

Cas returned to looking up at the twinkling lights scattered across the inky expanse overhead. "It's hard to believe that, despite everything that is happening now, those stars still offer a comforting presence to me after all this time," he said sagely.

"Cas, how old are you?"

A rueful smile ghosted across the angel's lips. "Old enough. Not quite old enough to have seen those stars as they were created; that is an honor held by the archangels. In fact, it's said that God based the brilliance of those stars on Lucifer's light. He is the Morning Star, after all."

"Stop, man. Now I'm getting a mental image of the flying dick squadron watching the first sunrise and singing 'kum-ba-yah' together in a tender moment of brotherly bonding. This shit's easier to deal with if I just imagine them as villains with sticks up their asses."

Castiel actually chuckled at that. "If it helps, Lucifer didn't seem to care much for us younger angels. Although, Gabriel liked us well enough.

"You mean Gabriel wasn't a complete asshole back then?"

"Not…completely. He still had a terrible taste in practical jokes, of which only Uriel seemed to enjoy. Gabriel was a good brother, though. He even taught us how to fly."

In the distance a car drove by on the highway, but there were few travelers at that time of night. For several peaceful moments Castiel continued to stare at the sky and Dean kept nursing his beer. A thought occurred to the hunter and he turned slightly so he could see Castiel's reaction.

"Cas? Are you losing your mojo?"

A flash of nervousness passed over Castiel's face. Dean let the question hang in the air with no obvious attempt to change the subject, causing Castiel to sigh in defeat. Castiel's shoulders slumped just slightly and he wasn't sitting with his back ramrod straight like he usually did. Even if Castiel didn't bother to answer Dean's question, Dean already knew the answer.

"Why do you ask, Dean?"

"You've been riding with us in the Impala for these past few weeks. You used to just, you know, pop in and out wherever we were. I mean, you disappear every now and then but not nearly as much as you did before."

Cas nodded once somberly. "My ability to fly has diminished greatly since I was brought back. As I said before, my connection to the Host is fading over time." Castiel's blue eyes shifted to his hand, and he stared at it. "But, that's not the only reason I remain with you and Sam. With Lucifer walking the Earth and God no longer part of the plan, where else am I supposed to go?"

"I know we already hashed this out earlier, but I'm still sorry, Cas. Finding out God is on the deadbeat dad list sucks ass."

Castiel scoffed unconsciously. "What's the plan, now that this case is over?" Castiel asked, clearly wanting to steer clear of that particular topic of conversation.

Dean ran a hand through his hair and over his face, trying to drive away the exhaustion stubbornly clinging to his soul. "So far, we're heading to Bobby's in the morning. After that? No idea. Should probably start trying to figure out where the hell these other two Horsemen are dicking around at and figure out how to gank them too." Dean drained the last of his beer and licked his lips against the cool night air.

Dean spoke with finality in his voice, yet he didn't move from his spot on the car and so Castiel remained at the hunter's side. He waited patiently to see if Dean wished to speak further; sure enough after a few moments he spoke again.

The hunter patted the black metal under him with gentle affection and let out an aggravated sigh. "Sam, he hasn't…he's still looking for that stupid spell!" Dean said, sounding angry. "How many weeks has it been since that day? And despite everything that's happened he won't give up!"

That got Castiel's attention. "You want him to stop searching for the spell?"

"I want him to wake up and face facts, Cas!" Dean said harshly. "We're running from Heaven and Hell—there's bigger things we need to worry about. Not to mention the fact that Sam hasn't been able to find anything on it—if my little brother can't find any word on this spell after weeks of searching, I'm starting to think the damn thing doesn't exist."

"Dean, you can't give up now. On anything," Cas said sternly. His blue eyes were locked onto Dean's emerald ones, trying to pull Dean from the dark thoughts swirling around in his mind.

"Sam refuses to give up because he has faith—in you, in the Impala. Even in me. You might think it's a waste of time, but the Impala was a powerful guardian and ally; at the moment we are sorely lacking both. With my 'mojo' continuing to dwindle, I won't be able to save you, Dean. I won't have the means to."

Castiel's hands curled into slightly shaking fists, which he stuffed into his coat pockets so Dean didn't see them. Cas continued to fight the overwhelming surge of hopelessness that was constantly hounding him, but he wasn't a complete fool either. He knew the odds were stacked against them, high enough to reach Heaven even, but Castiel also knew that if he lost his determination, Dean was sure to follow.

He needed to show Dean that giving up was not the answer. If either Dean or Sam got that thought into their head, the world was doomed.

Dean turned away from Castiel's gaze and let out a huff. "My friggin' car isn't going to save the world, Cas," he said bitterly.

"Not if you give up on her, she won't," Castiel said with finality in his tone. "She was there for you before, now it's your turn."

Dean didn't even have to hear the rustle of wings to know Castiel was gone. Where he could have gone was anyone's guess.

The angel had stirred up ideas and thoughts and feelings in Dean's mind and heart that he didn't want to deal with. Couldn't deal with. Not without a ton more alcohol, anyway.

Dean hopped off the car nimbly and stood for a few moments just staring at it. It wasn't hard to remember her—those crystal clear headlights as chrome eyes, the large steel frame her tall and strong figure. She was easy to talk to and easy to anger. Despite driving her every day, Dean had to admit he missed the sass.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, already knowing what he was going to do. They'd go back to Bobby's tomorrow and he'd let Sam scour through the old tomes and journals Bobby's had. Dean knew Sam—the kid was like a dog with a bone once he made up his mind on something. He'd keep gnawing on it under he got what he wanted. If he was serious about looking, Dean would let him. Because Sam and Cas were right. They needed her.

If she could keep the nightmares and demons and angels away, then God they desperately needed her.

If she could keep away the Dark Thought that was circling the dark edge of his mind, then he needed her too. Before he did something terrible.

The next morning Sam, Dean, and Castiel piled into the Impala per usual and Dean made a show of looking through the glove box for something. Sam started to get irritated when it seemed Dean was just fishing around for nothing when Dean actually pulled out a cassette tape case that Sam had never seen before.

Sam looked at the tape curiously, then turned back to Dean with a quirky smile on his face. "Since when do you listen to Ozzy?"

Dean gave his younger brother a haughty look. "Dude, Ozzy rocks. On occasion," he added, along with making the 'devil's horns' gesture with his hand. He didn't mention that he'd started listening to the heavy metal king after Sam had left for Stanford; it was the first cassette tape he had bought for himself that wasn't from John's old collection.

As he pulled the tape out and stuck it into the player, Dean also pulled out a photograph and a roll of scotch tape from the glove box. Sam looked at Dean, surprise and a bit of an embarrassed blush on his face, but his grin was so wide it was contagious when Dean taped the picture to the dashboard.

It was the picture Bobby had taken during Baby's last moments as a human. It was strange, seeing them standing next to her, with her black spiked hair, black clothing, leather jacket, and knowing it was the same car they were sitting in right at that moment. Even though the picture was in monochrome, her eyes still had an intensity that shown through, even if their silver color did not.

She looked so happy with the boys, and Sam and Dean were smiling so widely in the picture, that they couldn't help but grin at it.

Dean affectionately patted the dashboard. "We'll get you back," he promised. He glanced at Sam but didn't have to say anything else. Sam simply nodded enthusiastically beside him.

In the backseat, Castiel's piercing eyes stared at Dean through the rear-view mirror, but Dean didn't have to say a word to get his message across. Heard you loud and clear, Cas. Maybe this is a stupid idea, but we should at least try.

Castiel leaned forward slightly. "Are we ready to leave?" he asked.

"We are now!" Dean said, actually smiling as he pushed the play button on the radio.

"ALL ABOOOOOAAAAARD! HA HA HA HA HA HA…!"