A/N: This story was actually inspired by my own car. Yes, I know, how can an inanimate object be inspiration? Well, I've had so many unusual conversations in my car, that I've often wondered what it would say about me if it could talk. I love my car just as Dean loves the Impala. But, anyway, I'm rambling. I'll let you get to the story. Reviews and constructive criticism is always appreciated, but no flames. Negativity never helps anything. If you don't like the story, don't read it. But, to those who wish to join me on this crazy little adventure, buckle up and enjoy the ride.
Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with Supernatural.
Takes place roughly in the season eight time period.
She had been there since day one. She had been the work horse, the chauffeur, the hotel on dark and lonely nights. She had been a part of the Winchester family ever since John drove her off the lot. She had been there when Mary was killed, carried John and his sons around the States as he hunted down the monster that killed his wife. She had watched the boys grow up into strong young men. She loved those kids, and when John handed her keys over to Dean before heading off on his own to hunt, she couldn't wait to get started on a new adventure.
The road had been a trying one for the Winchester brothers. But, she had stuck with them through thick and thin. When they needed a safe haven, she was there. When they hurt, she hurt. Hell, she had a semi slam into her which almost took her and the Winchesters out. However, she was just a car. She couldn't do much other than sit wherever she was parked and listen to her boys yell and scream at each other when something bad happened.
Sometimes she wished she had a voice, then she could comfort her boys when they needed it. To tell them that she was there, that she would always be there, even when they hurt her. She had forgiven Dean for beating her with a crowbar after John died, but she had been shocked when he had done it. Dean had never done anything to hurt her before, what did she do to deserve such treatment?
But, she was just a car. A cold, voiceless piece of metal only good for carrying her boys around when they caught wind of hunting cases. She often wondered what it would be like to talk, to be able to voice her thoughts and feelings, and actually talk to the men she had grown to love. What would she say? Oh, the stories she could tell.
She woke up when her two front doors opened and her boys climbed into the front seat. Dean put the key in the ignition and her engine roared to life. He pulled out of the parking lot of the motel and headed out into traffic.
"You sure it's them?" Dean asked as he drove.
"Positive," Sam replied. "We might actually be able to put this coven out of business."
"I hope so," Dean said. "We've been after these witches for weeks. I'm ready to put this hunt behind us."
She went where Dean directed her. Soon she was leaving the comforts of the small town and was heading to the outskirts. With Dean's guidance, she rumbled over a dirt road towards an old abandoned house. However, for a house that was supposed to be abandoned, it looked like it was in half decent shape. Dean turned off the engine and opened the door. This was the hardest part. The waiting. She wished she could join them, walk beside them as they went on their hunt. But, she was cursed to be forever left behind as her boys put themselves in the line of danger.
She watched as her boys disappeared inside the house; hoping that they would return to her in one piece.
Reviews are welcome, flames are not