Chapter Text
They were in some town in the middle-of-nowhere Indiana, on a hunt. Sam and Dean had tracked the thing right back to its house – which is where they were now.
They had it cornered in the kitchen, their sharpened and blood painted stakes raised.
“No where else to run,” Dean told the thing. He, or it, looked at the hunter and smiled. Well that's fucking creepy, Dean thought to himself. Sam was slowly approaching it, ready to move when there was a sudden burst of light coming from the thing. Dean shielded his eyes and raised his shoulder, preparing for the blow.
“SAM!”
“DEAN!”
Just like that the light was gone, and so was the monster.
“What the hell was that?” Dean asked his brother, looking around the room.
Sam shrugged. “I have no idea.”
They grabbed their gear and headed back to the Impala.
“I thought we were dealing with a typical pagan god here. You ever see one of them do that?” Dean popped the trunk and threw his duffel inside.
Sam tossed in his own knife and sharpened stake. “Nope. I guess it's time to hit the books.”
“Right,” Dean said unenthusiastically. “Well, why don't you do that, while I go get me a cheeseburger.” Getting into the driver's seat, he added, “and some pie”.
Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot of a small, run down sort of diner on the outskirts of town in the middle of a trailer park.
Eyeing the place, Sam turned to his brother. “Really, Dean?”
“What?” Dean asked, shrugging.
Despite the look of the place, Sam went in, bringing his laptop with him. He would've just stayed at the hotel, but he was hungry.
The diner looked exactly as Dean expected it to. The tables were cheap, the boots were cheap, the chairs were cheap. Everything was cheap. Tacky wall decorations were every where he looked, most sporting stupid sayings about work or retirement, and a TV behind the counter was showing the local news.
A short, skinny blonde in an apron came over to take their orders not long after they'd taken their seats. “Ya'll are comin' in late,” the waitress said to them as she approached. “You here for the festival?”
“Ah, no,” Sam answered while Dean asked, “What festival?”
“The James Dean festival. Ya'll didn't know? Yeah, Fairmount's where he grew up, so every year there's this big car festival. People from all over come to see it.” Dean's face lit up like a little kid's on Christmas morning. Sam hadn't seen his brother look that happy since the Moondoor larping battle.
“Awesome.” Dean muttered happily after the waitress took their order.
“We could use a little fun,” Sam told him. Dean just sighed while Sammy opened up his laptop to start researching.
When the waitress set down Sam's chicken salad, Dean looked at his little brother in dismay. “Seriously?”
Sam sighed. “What, Dean?” he asked patiently.
“It's rabbit food,” his older brother answered incredulously, gesturing to Sam's plate.
“Not everyone can eat like you, Dean. Maybe I don't want to clog my arteries with meat.”
“A real man eats meat.”
“So I'm not a real man?”
“No. You aren't.” Dean bites into his burger emphatically and grunts, well more like moans. “They make a damn good burger here,” he says around his food. Sam watches with his eyebrows furrowed before ignoring his brother with an eye roll and going back to his research.
When Dean was finally done with his pie an hour later, the brothers left the diner, Sam not having a clue about what they were actually dealing with.
“I think I'll hit up the library, see if there's anything there we can use.”
“Alright. Drop me off at the hotel though. I want to catch some Zs,” he said, finishing off his coffee to-go. Standing in the middle of the parking lot, Dean suddenly stopped and looked around. “Where's my car?” Dean asked in a, if it doesn't show up in the next two seconds I'm going to strangle someone, kind of tone.
“You parked it right here,” Sam said in disbelief.
“Someone stole my baby?!” Dean was starting to hyperventilate. Sam would've tried to calm him down, but how could he? All their gear was in that car. Not only that but it was Dean's baby. Even Sam had some sentimental feelings for the Impala. It was the closest thing to home they ever had growing up.
“Your car wasn't stolen.”
Dean whirled around to see who had spoken. A man with short, dark hair wearing a leather jacket stood there, hands in his pockets. He could tell that his casual stance was just a cover to hide his anxiety. To Sam, he looked a lot like his brother in some ways. Despite the guy's age, Sam thought girls would probably find him attractive; he had this kind of manly-model look going on.
“And who are you?” Dean asked not-so politely.
“You don't recognize me?”
“Obviously not.” From the way Dean looked and sounded, Sam would have to be ready soon. Whether to hold him back or help him, Sam couldn't tell yet.
“We've had a lot of great moments together. I can't believe you don't remember.” The man made as if to grab Dean's hand, but the hunter backed away hastily. Sam was honestly surprised his brother hadn't decked the guy already, especially with that creepy pick-up line.
Sam stared at the guy in mock disbelief. I understand the chicks, but now older dudes? Maybe Dean's been hanging around Cas too long. “Uh wow, Dean. You never mentioned him before,” Sam teased. “Sorry, what's your name?”
“Dean's only ever called me Baby.”
“I did not need to know that,” Sam said, hands on his hips as he bent over slightly, looking at the ground. He bit his lip as he tried really hard not to fall over laughing, his shoulders shaking from the effort.
Dean turned to glare at his brother, “I never called him baby! I've never seen him before in my life.”
“Yes, you have Dean.” The way this guy was looking at Dean strangely reminded him of the way Cas would look at him. In a sickening way, it also reminded him of the way some girls would look at him. I do not want to think about this dude and my brother. Dean didn't hesitate in grabbing the man and pinning him against the wall, his forearm pressed hard against his throat to keep him there. Sam was right there next to him, ready to do whatever needed to be done. “What did you do with my car?” he asked menacingly.
“Nothing, nothing! Come on, don't scratch the paint.”
“What?” Sam asked, bewildered.
“Come on! You guys really don't recognize me?”
“I told you before, I've no idea who you are!” Dean was getting really tired of this.
“I'm the Impala!”
Dean wasn't buying it. Neither was Sam. “Stop fucking around. Who are you?”
“I told you,” the man ground out. He should've been afraid, terrified, but he sounded more pissed than anything.
“I'm calling bullshit.”
“You would. You don't trust anyone 'cept your precious Sammy. Well, and your angel, but even then. What the hell do I have to do to get you to stop man-handling me? Not that I'd usually mind but this is a little too rough, even for me.”
“Crowley send you?” Dean asked, practically foaming at the mouth. One thing Sam knew about his brother, you don't mention his big brother complex or his angel-man, not when he considers you a threat. Might as well just ask him to kick your teeth in. Or to just stab you and get it over with.
“No, Crowley didn't send me. I'm not a fucking demon, Dean. Go ahead, try and exorcise me if that'll make you feel better.”
Dean looked over and Sam and nodded. He always did think Sam somehow did it better. “Exorcizamus te omnis immundus spiritus,” he began. By the time he was halfway through, he stopped.
“Sam,” Dean told him, annoyed, “finish the damn exorcism.”
“Dean,” he said with a sigh, “I don't think he's a demon.” Sam paused and put a hand on Dean's arm, titling his head as he tries to get Dean to look him in the eye. “I think he's telling the truth, Dean.”
“A car can't just turn into a person!” Dean argued.
Sam shrugged, “Okay, but he's not a demon so we need another tactic.”
His brother glares at the guy he's still holding him, as if he's trying to bore into his head for answers. “Tell us something only the Impala would know,” Dean demanded eventually.
“Like the first time you had a girl in the backseat? I think her name was Kim.”
Dean let go, backing up with wide eyes, his lips moving as he muttered to himself.
“I remember you giggling a lot whenever she would-”
“Stop.” Dean was out of his shock now, back to his usual, grumpy, intimidating self. Except that Sam thought he was blushing.
“Is that enough proof for you?”
“No,” Sam answered, confused about Dean's reaction, at the same time Dean quickly replied, “Yes.”
Sam's eyebrows came down and together, wrinkling his forehead. “Uh, Dean. You realize who, or I guess what, this guy is saying he is, right? You can't be serious.”
“Stop it with your bitch face.”
He breathed deep through his nostrils. “So our c-a-r is now this m-a-n? Really, Dean?”
“We've seen weirder,” his brother said with a shrug, as if that explained everything.
Changing tactics, Sam asked, “Who's Kim?”
“Shut up, Sam.” Dean ignored the other Winchester, instead turning to the other guy. “How the hell is my baby a person? How the hell are you a person?”
The man shrugged. “I don't know.”
“How can you not know?” At this point, it was obvious Dean had had enough of monsters and angels and demons messing with his shit. “How the fuck can you not know how you're human.”
“Maybe it's the same thing we've been tracking. We know it's not a run of the mill pagan god, and more powerful.”
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck,” Dean growled, clenching his jaw.
“Listen, we'll go to the library like we planned, see if we can find any hints to what has this kind of power,” Sam reasoned. If Dean believed this guy, Sam was going to back him up. Well, until he could prove otherwise. With all the shit Sam had done and made Dean go through, he could at least have some faith in him. That didn't mean Sam wouldn't keep a careful eye on their humanoid car. The second this guy tried anything, Sam would be there ready to stab him with everything he can think of.
Rubbing his forehead, Dean let out a sigh. “It would be nice if we could get a little break every once in a while.” Sam just shrugged. He was thinking the same thing. “You go to the library. We'll go to the hotel – I still want my four hours.”
“Right.”
“Why the hell are you looking at me like that?”
Sam shrugged, a playful smile on his lips. “Nothing, I just. You guys seem to have some history I don't know about and...”
“And nothing. He's my fucking car you prick.”
Sam put his hands up defensively at the same time the other man let out indignantly, “Hey! I'm not just a car! And I have a name.”
“I am not calling you Baby,” Dean retorted.
“You never had issue with calling me that before.” Sam raised his eyebrows, giving Dean that oh-really-now look. If Sam was good at anything, it was being the bratty little brother who knew just the right way to make Dean squirm.
“Goddamn it, Sammy! Control your eyebrows!”
“Just make sure you put a sock on the door handle if you guys are-” he cut off when Dean threw his empty paper cup at him.
“Go do your damn research,” Dean growled as Sam turned around and left, grinning stupidly from ear to ear. “Bitch,” he muttered at his brother's retreated back.
“Jerk!” Sam shouted, waving while he walked away.