Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

Keep Calm and Run Away From Home

Even when she'd been a car, Baby always prided herself on keeping a level head. After everything she'd been through with the Winchesters, what with being possessed, abandoned for days, put in lockdown for almost a year, that solid grasp on her temper had grown to almost saintly proportions.

But their refusal to let her hunt with them was testing her patience.

Sure, it hadn't been a good idea to blindly rush into the building where Mitchell had been keeping Sam and Dean, but it wasn't as if she'd gone in alone. Even slightly nauseated, Castiel had her back and an angel blade up his sleeve. Not only that, but he'd made her practice that Latin exorcism until she could recite it backwards and sideways and every other which way. Armed with that and the protection rune, Baby had been far from helpless when she squared off with Mitchell.

Not that anybody had cared. Instead of praise for her mastery of Latin and thanks for saving them, Sam and Dean had scolded her for being reckless and forbidden her from leaving the bunker again. Baby paced the cold floor of her sparsely decorated room as she tried to understand why she was being punished.

She wasn't useless. Nor was she as ignorant of human behavior as before. In fact, Baby almost believed herself able to interact with other humans without drawing unwanted attention. Not even Castiel could claim that. Sure, being human had its drawbacks, but she'd learned how to adapt.

So why won't they let me help? Baby crossed her arms and fell back on her bed to scowl at the ceiling. The more she tried to understand, the angrier she found herself becoming. She threw her arms wide and grabbed fistfuls of her bedsheet, clenching the fabric hard enough to bleach her knuckles bone-white. Why confine me in the bunker?

A little voice in her head softly said, Because they think you can't hack it.

The thought made her sit straight up in shock. It was a horrible conclusion to settle on - she knew her boys loved her dearly, both as their home and as her own person - but as she continued to think about it, the more she realized it to be true. They still didn't know how she came to be human again, and unknowns frequently came back to bite them in the ass.

But instead of teaching her how to survive as a hunter, they shut her away with distracting things like Internet and alchemy spellbooks and a fully-loaded armory. Sam and Dean probably figured that if they kept her entertained long enough, she'd never think of leaving.

Well, they're dead wrong. Her legendary patience broke like sugar glass, letting a hot flood of rage swamp her senses. Letting that anger take over, she jumped to her feet and began stuffing clothes in a small duffel bag. Her teeth clenched painfully and her eyes prickled with hot tears, but aside from a single punch to her pillow she kept her focus on the task at hand.

Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she picked up her boots and her protection rune, then tiptoed out her bedroom door. Luckily this was one of the nights Castiel was forced to sleep, so nobody in the bunker was awake to catch her. Baby rifled through Sam's wallet for cash, pocketed a decent blade and pistol just in case, and scrawled a short note to Dean that she left taped to his bedroom door. A single tome on basic protection and warding spells was stuffed in her bag on the way out the front door.

Once she heard the lock click shut behind her, Baby checked the stars' positions, then her watch. The luminous dial showed that it was almost three AM, meaning she could be miles away before anyone woke up. I'll show them, she thought, scowling at the bunker one last time. I'll show them I'm not going to sit here like some helpless princess. I'll prove to them that I'm just as capable as any human hunter. As any Winchester.

Turning sharply on one heel, Baby headed down the road with a confident stride and a fierce light in her eyes. The darkness swallowed her in seconds.

I can just imagine the end music being "These Boots are Made for Walking" by Nancy Sinatra.

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