who is the third who walks always beside you, for connery_is_bond (Dean/Impala, Adult)
Title: who is the third who walks always beside you
Author: purestvixen
Recipient: connery_is_bond
Rating: Adult
Pairing: Dean/Impala, slight Mary/John
Summary: When he speaks to Her, there's something different about his voice.
Author's Notes: This pairing was much harder than I thought it would be to write, but I hope you like it!
She wasn't always a car. No, in the last 10,000 years, she has been many things. She has touched the Great Wall in China, felt the clear warm water of the Amazon river on her fingers, and driven through every continental United State.
She has given life, and she has taken it away. She has been born, and she has died.
But its only been in the last 50 years that she realizes well built cars last longer than human bodies.
-
She's there in 1971 when 17 year old Mary Winchester makes a deal with the crossroads demon. Anything, Mary pleads, blond hair whipping around her face. Anything to make sure that her boy comes home.
John arrives two weeks later, shell shocked but alive.
-
It's a warm April day in 1978 when Dean is conceived. The sun shines into the backseat and off of Mary's engagement ring as she bucks underneath John, back arching up against him.
-
The empty coffee cans and old shoes bang loud against the weathered pavement as She drives off from the church, Mary's laugh high and full, her belly starting to swell with beginning of their family.
-
Baby Dean cries a lot, leaves his mamma tired, and daddy frustrated. On a last ditch effort they put him in his car seat and drive for hours.
It's the only peace and quiet they've had in days.
-
Dean tells everyone who will listen about his new baby brother on the way. He even offers to give up his old car seat for the new baby.
But he won't give up his side of the backseat, and if She could, She would wrap her arms around the talkative four year old.
-
Baby Sam is not like Dean was. He is a quiet, shy baby, who hates to be held by anyone but Mary. It is not lost on Her that he is Mary's first child conceived in wedlock.
-
Dean's tears soak the leather of the backseat as John drives them out of Lawrence, out of Kansas, and out of the life that they'd always thought they would have.
She makes a silent promise to Mary that She will protect them and keep them safe.
-
Over the next fourteen years She watches them, feels them grow up inside of Her. She's there for Sam's first words, Dean! Dean! Dean!, She's there when Dean speaks again, after so many months of not talking, and he's spent the rest of his life trying to make up for it.
She's there when Dean shoots his first ghost, when Sam kills his first chupacabra, and when John realizes that there is no turning back.
-
Dean nicknames her Betsy during the summer of 1996. He's seventeen, palms itchy for the feel of skin softer than his own, and when he loses his virginity in Her backseat to Laura Paulsen, She's not really sure what to think, but it's the first time she wishes she'd picked a human host.
-
She mourns the loss of Sam with Dean, She pushes herself harder, tries to move him faster and farther away from the pain, but She knows that it's Her who holds the pain and the memories.
-
And somewhere along the way, She realizes that what She feels for Dean, She hasn't felt that in centuries.
When he speaks to Her, there's something different about his voice, something so raw and exposed, like She's the only he'll ever truly let see the real him. She's the only one who knows how much he resents his father, and loves him in the same breath; the same for Sam, perhaps more so.
-
In 2001 John buys a truck and from then on its just Her and Dean, and thousands of miles of interstate.
He plays the radio loud and booming, and when John takes off - sending him on his very own hunt without any warning, She's there as he beats his fists on the steering wheel, tears rolling off the weathered vinyl.
And for a second time in the last 50 years, she wishes she was human.
-
Having Sam back in the car with Dean is comforting and familiar. And its not just the weight of Sam's body, the stretch of his legs against the interior, its the way Dean feels - lighter and happier.
At least for a while anyway; there is so much unsaid between them - apologizes and forgiveness that they've both come to terms with except to each other.
But She's there, holding them together.
-
It's not supposed to hurt when the truck smashes into them at 80 miles an hour. She's just metal and leather and rubber, but she feels their pain, his pain and so she finds her own, waiting in the crumpled pile of debris. And this is her grief, this is how she deals with the fact that she couldn't keep them safe, and that regardless, she'll lose one of them.
-
A year later and Dean drives her out to the crossroads. It feels like an unfunny joke that she already knows the punchline for, but there's nothing she can do to stop from hearing it again, watching as the crossroad demon makes one more deal with the Winchester family.
-
When Dean finally concedes that he doesn't want to die, but he mostly likely will she realizes that its time. That her time with Dean is running short, and there are only so many days left until he leaves Sam, leaves her.
And so she pulls herself from the car, the process is exhausting and when she falls into her next host, its odd to feel the flex of fingers and toes - something she hasn't done in 57 years.
She doesn't have much time, three maybe four days at the most until someone notices, and then she'll be sent back into the car.
Easy punishment for a girl her who tried to get out of her own deal with devil.
-
They're having a beer at the bar when she walks in. Dean's chatting up the blond bartender, and Sam's got his head buried in an ancient book. They stick out like sore thumbs even if they don't realize it.
"Lemon drop," she says, her voice is still a little shaky but she forces a grin as the bartender nods, walking away from Dean's incessant chatter.
"Classic drink," he says, tipping the head of his beer bottle in her direction. "I'm Dean."
"I'm a classic kind of girl," she says, sipping slowly, the bittersweet liquid sliding quickly down her throat. "I'm Betsy."
It's strange, standing so close to Dean yet feeling so very far away from him. But she knows he can feel it, the connection between them, the chemistry that's been building for the last thirteen years. She wants to reach over, brush her hand over the day old stubble on his chin and feel the tingle on her fingertips. Her fingers make it half way before she realizes what she's about to do and he's looking at her with one eyebrow raised.
"You wanna get out of here?" he asks, taking her hand that's hovering in midair. She nods, draining the rest of her drink as she slides off the barstool. "Don't come home for a while," Dean says to Sam, patting him on the shoulder as he takes her hand, leading her out of the bar.
-
They don't make it past the parking lot when his hands are in her hair, and her mouth is flush against his, seeking and searching as his tongue pushes into her mouth.
It's all they can do to duck around the side of the bar, hidden from view. His hands are on her hips, sliding up to her breasts and he palms them roughly through the cotton of her t-shirt. Dean groans as her hand slides into his jeans, finds him hard and aching and oh so willing to her touch. She's missed this, the heat of skin between human flesh, the insatiable ache that continues to fill her every second he isn't inside her.
They don't have time for niceties, and she doesn't even take her panties off, just lets him push them to the side as he lifts her up, fucking into her in one long thrust against the decaying brick wall.
It's like nothing she thought, and yet she knows his rhythm, finds it quickly, one hand on the back of his neck, the other on his ass, pushing him in deeper.
He licks and grates his teeth over her neck, teeth grasping her ear lobe as he whispers into her ear.
"God, so fucking tight, girl. Want to fuck you hard, so fucking hard." That and the pressure of his thumb against her clit sends her right over the edge, into an explosive orgasm that she hasn't had since 1843 and she pulls him right down along with her.
-
She gets two and a half days before they find her; pull her down into the fiery pits of hell. They torture her just enough to remind her why she doesn't pull that stunt more than once a century, but she doesn't regret it and she's okay with going back into the car.
She and Sam have work to do.
Author: purestvixen
Recipient: connery_is_bond
Rating: Adult
Pairing: Dean/Impala, slight Mary/John
Summary: When he speaks to Her, there's something different about his voice.
Author's Notes: This pairing was much harder than I thought it would be to write, but I hope you like it!
She wasn't always a car. No, in the last 10,000 years, she has been many things. She has touched the Great Wall in China, felt the clear warm water of the Amazon river on her fingers, and driven through every continental United State.
She has given life, and she has taken it away. She has been born, and she has died.
But its only been in the last 50 years that she realizes well built cars last longer than human bodies.
-
She's there in 1971 when 17 year old Mary Winchester makes a deal with the crossroads demon. Anything, Mary pleads, blond hair whipping around her face. Anything to make sure that her boy comes home.
John arrives two weeks later, shell shocked but alive.
-
It's a warm April day in 1978 when Dean is conceived. The sun shines into the backseat and off of Mary's engagement ring as she bucks underneath John, back arching up against him.
-
The empty coffee cans and old shoes bang loud against the weathered pavement as She drives off from the church, Mary's laugh high and full, her belly starting to swell with beginning of their family.
-
Baby Dean cries a lot, leaves his mamma tired, and daddy frustrated. On a last ditch effort they put him in his car seat and drive for hours.
It's the only peace and quiet they've had in days.
-
Dean tells everyone who will listen about his new baby brother on the way. He even offers to give up his old car seat for the new baby.
But he won't give up his side of the backseat, and if She could, She would wrap her arms around the talkative four year old.
-
Baby Sam is not like Dean was. He is a quiet, shy baby, who hates to be held by anyone but Mary. It is not lost on Her that he is Mary's first child conceived in wedlock.
-
Dean's tears soak the leather of the backseat as John drives them out of Lawrence, out of Kansas, and out of the life that they'd always thought they would have.
She makes a silent promise to Mary that She will protect them and keep them safe.
-
Over the next fourteen years She watches them, feels them grow up inside of Her. She's there for Sam's first words, Dean! Dean! Dean!, She's there when Dean speaks again, after so many months of not talking, and he's spent the rest of his life trying to make up for it.
She's there when Dean shoots his first ghost, when Sam kills his first chupacabra, and when John realizes that there is no turning back.
-
Dean nicknames her Betsy during the summer of 1996. He's seventeen, palms itchy for the feel of skin softer than his own, and when he loses his virginity in Her backseat to Laura Paulsen, She's not really sure what to think, but it's the first time she wishes she'd picked a human host.
-
She mourns the loss of Sam with Dean, She pushes herself harder, tries to move him faster and farther away from the pain, but She knows that it's Her who holds the pain and the memories.
-
And somewhere along the way, She realizes that what She feels for Dean, She hasn't felt that in centuries.
When he speaks to Her, there's something different about his voice, something so raw and exposed, like She's the only he'll ever truly let see the real him. She's the only one who knows how much he resents his father, and loves him in the same breath; the same for Sam, perhaps more so.
-
In 2001 John buys a truck and from then on its just Her and Dean, and thousands of miles of interstate.
He plays the radio loud and booming, and when John takes off - sending him on his very own hunt without any warning, She's there as he beats his fists on the steering wheel, tears rolling off the weathered vinyl.
And for a second time in the last 50 years, she wishes she was human.
-
Having Sam back in the car with Dean is comforting and familiar. And its not just the weight of Sam's body, the stretch of his legs against the interior, its the way Dean feels - lighter and happier.
At least for a while anyway; there is so much unsaid between them - apologizes and forgiveness that they've both come to terms with except to each other.
But She's there, holding them together.
-
It's not supposed to hurt when the truck smashes into them at 80 miles an hour. She's just metal and leather and rubber, but she feels their pain, his pain and so she finds her own, waiting in the crumpled pile of debris. And this is her grief, this is how she deals with the fact that she couldn't keep them safe, and that regardless, she'll lose one of them.
-
A year later and Dean drives her out to the crossroads. It feels like an unfunny joke that she already knows the punchline for, but there's nothing she can do to stop from hearing it again, watching as the crossroad demon makes one more deal with the Winchester family.
-
When Dean finally concedes that he doesn't want to die, but he mostly likely will she realizes that its time. That her time with Dean is running short, and there are only so many days left until he leaves Sam, leaves her.
And so she pulls herself from the car, the process is exhausting and when she falls into her next host, its odd to feel the flex of fingers and toes - something she hasn't done in 57 years.
She doesn't have much time, three maybe four days at the most until someone notices, and then she'll be sent back into the car.
Easy punishment for a girl her who tried to get out of her own deal with devil.
-
They're having a beer at the bar when she walks in. Dean's chatting up the blond bartender, and Sam's got his head buried in an ancient book. They stick out like sore thumbs even if they don't realize it.
"Lemon drop," she says, her voice is still a little shaky but she forces a grin as the bartender nods, walking away from Dean's incessant chatter.
"Classic drink," he says, tipping the head of his beer bottle in her direction. "I'm Dean."
"I'm a classic kind of girl," she says, sipping slowly, the bittersweet liquid sliding quickly down her throat. "I'm Betsy."
It's strange, standing so close to Dean yet feeling so very far away from him. But she knows he can feel it, the connection between them, the chemistry that's been building for the last thirteen years. She wants to reach over, brush her hand over the day old stubble on his chin and feel the tingle on her fingertips. Her fingers make it half way before she realizes what she's about to do and he's looking at her with one eyebrow raised.
"You wanna get out of here?" he asks, taking her hand that's hovering in midair. She nods, draining the rest of her drink as she slides off the barstool. "Don't come home for a while," Dean says to Sam, patting him on the shoulder as he takes her hand, leading her out of the bar.
-
They don't make it past the parking lot when his hands are in her hair, and her mouth is flush against his, seeking and searching as his tongue pushes into her mouth.
It's all they can do to duck around the side of the bar, hidden from view. His hands are on her hips, sliding up to her breasts and he palms them roughly through the cotton of her t-shirt. Dean groans as her hand slides into his jeans, finds him hard and aching and oh so willing to her touch. She's missed this, the heat of skin between human flesh, the insatiable ache that continues to fill her every second he isn't inside her.
They don't have time for niceties, and she doesn't even take her panties off, just lets him push them to the side as he lifts her up, fucking into her in one long thrust against the decaying brick wall.
It's like nothing she thought, and yet she knows his rhythm, finds it quickly, one hand on the back of his neck, the other on his ass, pushing him in deeper.
He licks and grates his teeth over her neck, teeth grasping her ear lobe as he whispers into her ear.
"God, so fucking tight, girl. Want to fuck you hard, so fucking hard." That and the pressure of his thumb against her clit sends her right over the edge, into an explosive orgasm that she hasn't had since 1843 and she pulls him right down along with her.
-
She gets two and a half days before they find her; pull her down into the fiery pits of hell. They torture her just enough to remind her why she doesn't pull that stunt more than once a century, but she doesn't regret it and she's okay with going back into the car.
She and Sam have work to do.