Chapter Text
NOW
BOOTBACK, KS; JULY 2012
Slam!
Baby rocks as Dean shuts her trunk violently. She's still a bit sore from being flipped a few weeks ago, but she takes it. He walks along her side and slides into the front seat, taking a second of silence as everyone else piles in. Then he rolls her engine over and drives her the hell away from the reservoir.
Trench shifts in her trunk where they had been tossed by Dean. Wet and dirty, they look as beaten down as Baby has ever seen them.
It’s been a few months since they’ve seen each other, a few months since their argument, and Baby isn’t sure what Trench will start with to break the silence.
Was that necessary of him? Trench asks, less a sarcastic aside and more of a reproach towards Dean’s rough treatment. Okay, Baby guesses they’re just going to ignore it, then, in favor of more pressing matters. Isn’t that their life.
She sighs. He’s done worse. And he always fixes me, so I don’t mind— it’s not like it hurts. I'm made tough. If it helps him then I’m glad for it.
Trench seems to deflate, or maybe that’s just the water making them soggy and heavy. It’s quiet, and Baby assumes Trench won’t speak again, until they do.
I wish I could do something, they say quietly. This is the first time I’ve been without Castiel in a very long time. And I don’t think…
What? Baby prompts, when the silence stretches too long.
I’m afraid that he won’t come back, Trench admits. What will happen then? To me?
Well, he’s always come back before, Baby tries to rumble comfortingly, even though she’s still mad, she reminds herself, still mad. I’ll take care of ya until he does.
Thank you, Baby. That’s a kind sentiment. But Trench does not sound very convinced.
THEN
APRIL 2009
“I need some help. I’m praying, okay? Come on. Please.”
Cas, and Trench, heard and flew to him.
“Prayer is a sign of faith. This is a good thing, Dean.”
“So does that mean you’ll help me?”
“What you’re asking, it’s… not within my power to do.”
“Screw you.”
Trench watched Castiel’s convictions waver, felt his posture soften slightly.
“Dean. Dean.”
“What?!”
“You must understand why I can’t intercede. Prophets are very special. They’re protected. If anything threatens a prophet, anything at all, an archangel will appear to destroy that threat.”
“So if a prophet was in the same room as a demon…”
“Then the most fearsome wrath of heaven would rain down on that demon. Just so you understand… why I can't help.”
“Thanks, Cas.”
“Good luck.”
And off they flew to the next place they were needed.
THEN
PONTIAC, IL; MAY 2009
Their first meeting had been anticlimactic.
Her engine buzzing with talk of angels and demons and vessels, Baby had hardly noticed when yet another man slid into her backseat, carrying a rumpled jacket. It was only when the coat spoke that Baby bothered to pay any attention.
Hello. You seem different than other cars, was their patronizing opening line.
Be polite, Baby sighed to herself. Like any other day, it had been a long one. Yep, I'm an Object too. Though I can't say I've ever met a coat. Who do you belong to?
I am Trench, of the Angel Castiel... formerly of the human Jimmy Novak, the coat said.
The car rumbled. I'm Baby. Dean Winchester's, loud and proud.
Ah, Winchesters. I am not surprised, I’ve heard much about them, Trench said through drapery, offhandedly.
And I've heard a lot about these dickish angels. You seem particularly cut out to be worn by one, Baby growled.
Trench, in a pile on the man's lap, seemed to smooth out.
Jimmy chose me, and Castiel chose Jimmy, so rest assured that I am well-suited. As for the rest of it, you should show Castiel some respect, the coat said crisply.
Baby scoffed. And why would I do that? From what I've heard he just throws my boys into problem after problem without a care for their wellbeing, and then disappears when it gets rough.
Trench sat still but for a slight twiddle of their collar. I don't know where Castiel is right now, but I do know that he does not see your boys as expendable.
Behind the meaning of the words, the tone in which Trench said ‘your boys’ was so cold.
I don’t see how he’s not just another angel who doesn’t give a damn. So I’m not sure why we’re fixing to help him.
The coat twisted. Oh, I see. You have not been privy to the same conversations between Dean and Castiel that I have. That angel has already done more than he should to assist your ‘Dean’. The boy is starting to believe in him.
That tone again… Baby pushed down her indignation and reflected on the words. She was taken aback but tried not to break her stride on the road. In the recent weeks she had heard talks of angels and seals and had pieced together the barest bones of the threat her boys faced. Only now did she realize how much she truly missed in their lives, and how many gaps would maybe never be filled.
I’m doubtful, she replied.
There was that conversation about her Dean in Hell and the first mention of angels; there were those quiet talks between the brothers, but they always ended in wordlessness. This had always been her life, knowing only small snippets of the case before her boys came back to clean their wounds and rest, and then it was no longer relevant. But with such enormous stakes and so much going on, she feared she might never know the full story. If at some point her boys never made it back to her— she shook off the thought. They always had.
But here was this coat, always at the center of the action, it seemed.
She looked out at the dark road, remembering a murmured conversation Dean had held with himself last week as Sam had slept cradled in her passenger seat. The words had been too soft to hear over her mechanisms, but it had seemed almost reverent. What she wouldn’t give to know exactly what Trench knew…
So, swallowing her pride, she doubled down, confessing: I’m doubtful, so convince me.
But the man was already leaving the car.
NOW
JULY 2012
So, I’m assuming you’re still mad at me. It comes out of the blue, but it’s not unexpected. It’s been hanging over them for weeks.
Is this you apologizing?
It’s just a question.
Then yea, Baby says, hard. I’m still mad.
Why?
Now that does catch her off-guard. Why? Isn’t it obvious?
You know very well why.
Really? Trench continues. Anyone else would think this is a calm line of questioning, but Baby can see the hint of belligerence. I’m not allowed to have other friends?
Baby’s cornered. Of course you are but… him? Friends?
Now that she thinks about it, she can’t really justify her response. It just feels wrong, but not for any reason, per se. Tall, dark, handsome, and annoying.
Like I said, he’s not the same as his owner. You’ve never even talked to him.
Oh god. Is she jealous? Of Ove of all Objects?
I know enough about him to be hurt.
It's not like I could replace you.
Baby sighs. Leave it to Trench to get right to the heart of the argument. She has to concede that point. Thanks, T.
THEN
PONTIAC, IL; MAY 2009
Baby hadn’t expected the man and coat to be back, but for the next few days they were in and out of her seats, with a woman and girl as well at times. Slowly, she heard the coat out.
She hadn’t been sure what to expect from her first angel. Well, honestly, she had never really expected there to be one in her seats. Why would they ever use car travel? But Anna, though subdued, had fit into her idea of how an angel might act. Quiet, sitting up tall, observing everything.
It was how she thought one might act, that is, until her and Dean’s fling in the backseat! Baby had been privy to many a night where she had to divert her attention to give the people in her interior some privacy, but that one left her reeling.
Add to that experience the name dropping she had heard, the trials certain angels had put her boys through, and she wasn’t sure how to picture the Host. But so far, no angel had seemed like good news, and her protective instinct towards the boys did not incline her to give them the benefit of the doubt.
Still, as she listened to Trench, she couldn’t help but be a little swayed by what Castiel had supposedly said and done, and what Dean had supposedly said and done, and overall the fervent way the coat talked about his angel. There had to be some truth there, and something to trust. So, when she heard the laundry list of moments from the past months; when she heard that Castiel had become too close to Dean according to his superiors; when she heard that Dean—her stubborn, disbelieving Dean—had prayed to this angel, well, she was inclined to shuck some of that disbelief.
Not all of it, of course. She took after Dean and his father before him, and didn’t trust easily. But by the end of the last ride, when Dean signaled to her gears to slow and stop outside a warehouse, Baby was entranced by the stories and grateful to the coat for providing them.
And by the time Jimmy slid out of her door the final time, clutching Trench, she found herself looking forward to the next time that piece of clothing was in her seats. She had so many more questions.
NOW
JULY 2012
In all honestly, Baby wasn’t sure that Dean would leave Trench in her trunk for more than one car ride back to the bunker. Why would he?
But their luck holds— the boys open and close her trunk, getting weapons and stowing them, and still Trench remains. Well, Baby and Trench’s luck holds if only because Dean and Sam have their hands full and overflowing with various monsters, but it’s something.
No, not luck, Baby chastises herself. She’s mad, she reminds herself, and she only wants Trench here to get an apology. But she doesn’t hear one, so she’s still mad.
That gives them both lots of time to stew in silence and work up the courage to address the elephant in the car. And it gives Baby time to reflect on their past.