Started from the bottom

[1967_chevy]

Based off of this masterpiece. Since we didn't start with a proper freakout ;)

Baby wasn't entirely sure how it happened. It was a sudden thing, like flicking a switch - one second he wasn't there, and then he was. He'd actually laid in the parking spot for a good ten minutes, just taking stock of everything. He had...hands. A body. He was breathing. The only reason he finds to move is the rather aggressive driver who honks at him. Oh, they want the space. Right, he didn't...need it anymore?

It takes him a second to figure out how to sit up, but once he does, it comes easy. His controls may be mixed around, but they're all there somewhere, and Baby manages to get a little bit of practice in, going back and forth on the grass. People shoot him strange looks, but no one is going to engage the weird man walking a rut in the grass.

When were Sam and Dean going to be back, anyway? Baby eventually finds himself sitting on a bench, taking in the people passing with unconcealed interest. Again, with the strange looks, but he couldn't help it. Was this what the human world was like? It was so...energetic, so busy. Baby takes it all in with relish, inhaling deeply. What a...time to be alive.

And then, there they are. Baby smiles, relieved, and stands, getting ready to go over and say hello for the first time. Oh, shit, he didn't check if his radio worked.

Comments

[1967_chevy]

"You know that's true, car or human." Baby chuckles, leg already bouncing as he sits. And really, Dean, he has no idea how to be a human. Yes, the basic were probably your best bet.

"What?" He seems scandalized. It's all he's ever known and as far as he can remember, gas and oil are pretty damn good. "But Dean-"

"Why would people be touching me?" Whether it's better or worse that Baby isn't questioning Dean's authority on the who-touches-him matter, well, that's for Dean to determine. But Dean is his owner, as weird and not-legal as that sounded now that he was human.

[alwayswithscissors]

He huffed a chuckle and nodded at how the other was even showing that sitting still was tough. And he wasn't sure if that was something that would ever change.

"As a human, that stuff can kill you. When you're feelin' hungry, we'll go to a diner and get somethin' to eat there." He gave a shrug. Chances were, he'd be able to eat something at any point in the day. "If something happened that I couldn't help you with. That's why." He sighed, giving a half shrug at that. "I ain't good with humans havin' issues. When you were a car, fixin' you up was easier."

[1967_chevy]

Probably not. He was born of oil and rubber and pliable metal, not beating blood and sinew and skin. Some things just couldn't be contained.

Baby was not pouting. Okay, maybe a little. But no oil? It's like a punishment, and he doesn't understand what he's done wrong.

"It's not all that different. All my parts are here. Just...mixed around."

[alwayswithscissors]

"I'll find ya somethin' to replace it with." Maybe coffee would work. Caffeine in general. He refused to let his car touch energy drinks, though. Too much bad shit in those things. Coffee, though. That would have been better. And only the best coffee. Baby might be human but that wasn't going to stop any spoiling. It would just be weird at first. Very... Very weird.

"Really?" There was an eyebrow raise "You mind givin' me a bit've an idea've what I'm workin' with, then?

[1967_chevy]

Baby sunk back in his seat, still grumbling but taking Dean at his word. He wondered what could be similar, but if Dean said there was something, he believed him.

"I mean," Baby touches his jacket. "Leather seats." His hand runs over his tight jeans. They might look uncomfortable, but he was perfectly content. "Paint job."

[alwayswithscissors]

"Makes sense since they look damned near painted on." He chuckled, looking at the jeans after the jacket. He inspected the clothing for any damage. Even slight fading to the pants would cause issues to him because he always did his best to keep his car in the best of conditions, after all.

[1967_chevy]

"And waxed." Baby shot Dean a cheeky smile, crossing his arms. "My engine," A gesture to his heart. "I can feel my transmission in there somewhere too."

[alwayswithscissors]

Dean chuckled, rolling his eyes with a bit of a smirk on his face "Only the best for you" He couldn't exactly argue how he treated his car. At more of the tour, he nodded. Heart being the engine. That made sense. Inner workings being the transmission. "All areas I'll be sayin' if you need to be checked up we go to a doctor" Or he would start reading all the books and sources he could to be able to help his car out. Oh, wait, whoops. He was planning to do that anyway.

[1967_chevy]

"Of course. I'm the most valuable thing you own." Baby teases, running a hand back through inky black hair. "I think I'm fine right now, Dean. Full tank of gas, no nicks or scratches, just - you know, the obvious, presence of a mouth and legs where there ware none before."

[alwayswithscissors]

"Yeah. I'll be workin' on figurin' out how that happened." Dean chuckled, stretching out a bit. "Anything else I should know? Like what's where and all that?"

[1967_chevy]

"You just want me to speak technical garb to you." Baby waggled an eyebrow at Dean teasingly, lips pulling into a thin smirk. "But, I mean, you claim to know the human body as well as you know my usual form, so."

[alwayswithscissors]

"You see right through me" He chuckled, giving a shrug. But he was curious, and concerned, about what else could be there. "Yeah, and I'm just as curious to know how your usual form switched over to human. The dings I couldn't get out, all that." Well this was going to go dark and emotional fast.

[1967_chevy]

Baby's humor dried up in an instant, blue eyes wide and suddenly, showing his age. He looked tired and apologetic, hands resting on his legs. "I've got a few. You probably don't want to see them, though." Really. Some were...deep.

[alwayswithscissors]

The sudden change definitely surprised him and he frowned, shifting to look at Baby a bit better, brow furrowed "Might not want to after I see 'em, but I'd rather know now, than risk findin' out later.

[1967_chevy]

Baby stared at him for a long second, trying to gauge whether or not Dean was serious. But he was, and Baby had never had the luxury of refusing Dean a look under his hood, so. He shrugged his jacket off before pulling his shirt over his head slowly. Dean's already seen the scars on his stomach, but on his back, there are more, crisscrossing lines from numerous crashes. Most are faded, faint lines, but he's clearly been put back together a few times. The white, nasty gash on his neck is probably the worst of it. He has a Devil's trap tattoo'd on his lower back, just above his ass.

"S'from the crowbar," Baby said quietly, finger brushing over the gash.

[alwayswithscissors]

There weren't many he could place events to with the scars, but the glance over had him going to ones that looked freshest and most memorable to him. His and Sammys etching and the gash. He hadn't even noticed the tattoo, yet. He was just silent, looking at the gash as the other brushed over it, clenching his teeth and holding his breath. He remembered that day. His heart dropped, just remembering that day.

"... I'm so sorry..." He hadn't meant to leave that kind of permanent damage. He was apologizing for all the damage. The things he managed to fix, at least for the most part, but especially the crowbar. He was upset, that day. He remembered exactly how he felt, and he just could't take everything that had happened at that point. Granted, he'd lost his temper more after that, but still. He managed to tear his eyes away, shifting to sit facing straight on the couch, his own leg bouncing up and down. Not because he couldn't sit still, but because he had to focus on something else. Anything else. And that happened to be it.

[1967_chevy]

"Don't be," Baby assured gently, turning back around to look at Dean. "You restored me cherry, but there are some things that just don't disappear. And that's okay." After all, it was the blemishes that made him beautiful, right? The history, that's what made him important. It was his job, his duty.

"And this, Dean, you needed this." Baby gestured back to his neck. "You needed something to explode on. And you put me back together, at the end of the day." He always would. Dean had never let him down.

[alwayswithscissors]

That entire day, the more he looked at it, had turned into something more of Baby becoming entirely his car. He glanced over and gave a fleeting smile. "That day I started rebuildin' you as dads car." He was quiet as he spoke, the admittance being more painful than he thought it would be. He sighed, closing his eyes as he hung his head again. The other might have been defending his actions, but Dean still felt like crap for having done it in the first place.

[1967_chevy]

"I was never really your Dad's car." Baby watched him, sharp blue eyes fixed on the elder Winchester. "I was yours from the start, Dean. He wouldn't have bought me without you."

Baby sighed, carefully putting his shirt back on. "You've never hidden anything from me. You never could. If this is the price I pay for that, it's really nothing."

[alwayswithscissors]

Dean gave a small smile, more forced than anything, at the moment. "Well, I didn't know that at the time..." He gave a weak, bitter, chuckle. "Might be nothin' to you, but I see nothin' but damage I caused." He sighed.

[1967_chevy]

"This," Baby puts a hand on his stomach, where the initials are carved, deep. "Is my most prized possession. I wouldn't change it, Dean, not for anything." He means that.

[alwayswithscissors]

He knew what was on his stomach, what he was resting his hand over and gave a small smile, attempting to at least seem a bit happier, knowing the situation, that there was one thing that seemed positive to the other. He let out a sigh. At least now he was positive that this was his car sitting next to him, now. He was about to say something when Sam came back in with his laptop.

"This one alright?" He walked over to show the screen to Dean, showing him a dark blue pick up truck.

"No" The response was almost immediate, almost like he hadn't even actually looked at the picture or information. Just a quick glance was enough, though. He could tell it frustrated Sam by the way the younger almost too calmly closed his laptop to leave the room again. This wasn't going to end well, Dean knew it, but he didn't want to sit in a truck he refused to drive.

[1967_chevy]

Baby tried not to look smug, but it was a failing effort. Dean was as much his as he was Dean's - at least, in his own mind - and he didn't particularly want Dean driving another car, either. "You might want to just let Sam drive, you know? You won't find any ride as smooth as me."

"It's strange," Baby tilted his head, staring at Dean for a long second. "I thought you'd be taller."

[alwayswithscissors]

"No, he's gonna be drivin', that truck had problems I just didn't wanna deal with. And Sammy sucks, workin' on cars." He gave a shrug, just giving his honest opinion. Don't worry, Baby. Every drive there was going to be an argument on Sams ability to drive, work on the car, choice in car, and everything else to do with vehicles.

Then he rose an eyebrow at the comment of the other thinking he would be taller "Ain't my fault Sam's a goddamned moose-man. Besides, I could fire right back I thought you'd be shorter. And a chick." He made a face, attempting to seem a bit happier. As Sam opened the door to come back in, he immediately gave the younger a look that caused him to immediately walk out to keep car hunting.

[1967_chevy]

"He definitely wasn't your style," Baby agreed, like they were picking a hat. Things had obviously changed, but Baby was glad the two of them could come to a consensus on certain things. He snorted, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair, getting a little more comfortable.

"I don't have a preference, sweet cheeks. Use whatever pronouns you want. Makes sense, I guess, if you think about it. Muscle car with a stick shift? Dean."