Some Kinda Monster
Title: Some Kinda Monster
Fandom: Supernatural, Transformers (the general premise)
Characters: Sam, Dean, Impala (Metallicar)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1091
Spoilers: Season 2
Warning: Humour, crack, My car just turned into a robot, AU
Disclaimer: I own neither Transformers or Supernatural. (Originally posted on Archive of Our Own and ff.net)
Summary: The Impala has been keeping secrets.
Some Kinda Monster
“So,” Dean stared at what had once been his car, “What the hell are you?”
The Impala shifted on its two mechanical legs and a strangely human face, made from what might have been the rooftop or the trunk, blinked. Thankfully the robot (if that’s what it was. Dean had already gone through all of the usual, and some of the unusual, supernatural checks and they had all come back negative) was small enough to be hidden in the towers of scrapped cars that made up Bobby’s yard. Fortunately for all involved, Bobby was away and would never see a giant robot in his salvage yard.
That said, the Impala still towered over Dean and Sam- who looked like he wanted to be somewhere else- and acted like a kid being caught with a hand in the cookie jar, squeaky voice and everything. “Transformer.”
“What?” At three meters tall, majority of its parts exposed under the armor-like pieces that had once been the body, the robot winced at the tone. At distance it was difficult to believe there were enough parts to the Impala to make a robot.
Dean had an expression that would rival most boulders and had the robot been anything but the Impala it probably would have been attacked. “You better start talking sense or I’m going to find Bobby’s crusher and feed you to it.”
A bluff, of course: anyone who had the misfortune of violating the two-feet rule would know that Dean would never hurt his car. Hell, just scratching the thing was a death sentence. The Impala had to know that, being under Dean’s care as long as it had. No dent or smudge lasted longer than twenty-four hours under Dean’s care.
“I’m a Transformer.” The Impala repeated with a sigh. Its toe left a pothole when it scuffed the ground. Hopefully Bobby wouldn’t notice. With its gaze anywhere but on Dean, it said, “I come from the planet Cybertron and crashed landed on Earth.”
“Uh-huh.” Dean crossed his arms, and casted a quick glance at Sam- who’d been suspiciously quiet.
“Your car. Your problem.” Sam said with a grin, and leaned back against a stack of cars with his hands in pockets.
Dean mumbled something about pain in the butt younger brothers and turned his attention back to the Impala. “Well, what happened to my car?”
“But I am your car.” The Impala replied with a hurt tone.
Okay, now he felt a little guilty for accusing his car. Then his mind caught up with him. His car was making him feel guilty. God, this was messed up. “So you’ve always been able to turn… roboty?” A moment of silence passed before there was a slight creaking of metal as the Impala nodded. “Right. Because this isn’t weird at all.”
The Impala shifted under Dean’s scrutiny, gears whirling. “Well,” It began quietly, or as quietly as a giant robot could be, “now that the bolts are out of the box, is this a good time to bring up the fact I need a buff and wax?”
Off in the corner, Sam coughed back a laugh.
Dean gapped at his car, almost sputtering, “I just waxed you!”
“Yes.” The Impala acknowledged, “But then you used me to run over zombies. And I know that the flamethrowers were empty, but I am not designed to be doing anything like that. I nearly got a scratch.” The car stressed the word like it was death itself hanging in the balance.
Sam probably had the flu or something because the coughing was getting worse.
Dean stared. He opened his mouth once, then closed it again. Finally, after repeating the same gesture two more times, he spoke. “I rebuilt you. That’s got to be what? Like saving your life.”
“You also smashed my trunk with a tire iron.” The robot countered.
Dean went back to gapping at the car. Sam, meanwhile, had given up all pretenses at having the flu and was outright laughing. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up chuckles,” Dean mumbled under his breath.
Then the Impala, bless it, turned to Sam. “And then you let that doofus drive me.”
Sam’s laughter died a quick death with an indigent shout, “Hey!”
Tides turned, Dean smirked. Normally he was the only one allowed to pick on Sam, but he might be willing to make an exception just this once. “Well, you can turn into a giant robot. Is there anything else you want to tell me?”
The Impala blinked again and it even brought up a hand to scratch its chin. “I think that’s the big thing. Well, that and my right headlight is out again.”
“Again?” Dean scowled, for a moment perhaps forgetting he was talking to his car, “Son of a bitch: I replaced it less than a month ago.”
The Impala nodded sympathically, “It was a faulty light bulb, I’m afraid. Nasty pests sometimes.” The Transformer glanced around, “Umm, I need to change back before Bobby gets here. Unless you want to explain this all to him?”
“No.” Came the quick reply, “No. We’ll tell him some other time.”
“Okay.” Then the robot’s parts all shifted like some demented puzzle game until the Impala rested in all of its four wheels and two-door glory. The shine to its black painted hood totally said Dean didn’t need to wax it for another day yet. Both Dean and Sam tried very hard not to think of the physics of what they just saw, and Dean focused on gauging the coolness factor of his car.
“Alright, that right there. That was cool.” Dean approached the car, not overly warily but still slower than normal. The headlights flashed their approval and Dean swore a little under his breath; the right headlight was out.
“Dude, I always knew you spoiled that car rotten.” Sam said finally, apparently over the fact the Impala didn’t like him driving it.
“Shut up Sammy.” Dean growled, “’Sides, my car is awesome.”
“It’s Sam, Dean.” Came the response. But in the end vengeance was the Impala’s; because the next time Sam got near the car, the passenger side door opened to smack him hard in the legs. Dean laughed for two hours.
~*~*~
Metallicar reporting to Autobot homebase. Repeat, Metallicar reporting to Autobot homebase. Unable to rendezvous at specified time and location. Must kill some Fuglies instead. Damn bastards. Will continue destroying Decepticons when owner is occupied. Took out two since last week. The idiots are still falling for the oldest trick in the book. Metallicar out.
Fandom: Supernatural, Transformers (the general premise)
Characters: Sam, Dean, Impala (Metallicar)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1091
Spoilers: Season 2
Warning: Humour, crack, My car just turned into a robot, AU
Disclaimer: I own neither Transformers or Supernatural. (Originally posted on Archive of Our Own and ff.net)
Summary: The Impala has been keeping secrets.
Some Kinda Monster
“So,” Dean stared at what had once been his car, “What the hell are you?”
The Impala shifted on its two mechanical legs and a strangely human face, made from what might have been the rooftop or the trunk, blinked. Thankfully the robot (if that’s what it was. Dean had already gone through all of the usual, and some of the unusual, supernatural checks and they had all come back negative) was small enough to be hidden in the towers of scrapped cars that made up Bobby’s yard. Fortunately for all involved, Bobby was away and would never see a giant robot in his salvage yard.
That said, the Impala still towered over Dean and Sam- who looked like he wanted to be somewhere else- and acted like a kid being caught with a hand in the cookie jar, squeaky voice and everything. “Transformer.”
“What?” At three meters tall, majority of its parts exposed under the armor-like pieces that had once been the body, the robot winced at the tone. At distance it was difficult to believe there were enough parts to the Impala to make a robot.
Dean had an expression that would rival most boulders and had the robot been anything but the Impala it probably would have been attacked. “You better start talking sense or I’m going to find Bobby’s crusher and feed you to it.”
A bluff, of course: anyone who had the misfortune of violating the two-feet rule would know that Dean would never hurt his car. Hell, just scratching the thing was a death sentence. The Impala had to know that, being under Dean’s care as long as it had. No dent or smudge lasted longer than twenty-four hours under Dean’s care.
“I’m a Transformer.” The Impala repeated with a sigh. Its toe left a pothole when it scuffed the ground. Hopefully Bobby wouldn’t notice. With its gaze anywhere but on Dean, it said, “I come from the planet Cybertron and crashed landed on Earth.”
“Uh-huh.” Dean crossed his arms, and casted a quick glance at Sam- who’d been suspiciously quiet.
“Your car. Your problem.” Sam said with a grin, and leaned back against a stack of cars with his hands in pockets.
Dean mumbled something about pain in the butt younger brothers and turned his attention back to the Impala. “Well, what happened to my car?”
“But I am your car.” The Impala replied with a hurt tone.
Okay, now he felt a little guilty for accusing his car. Then his mind caught up with him. His car was making him feel guilty. God, this was messed up. “So you’ve always been able to turn… roboty?” A moment of silence passed before there was a slight creaking of metal as the Impala nodded. “Right. Because this isn’t weird at all.”
The Impala shifted under Dean’s scrutiny, gears whirling. “Well,” It began quietly, or as quietly as a giant robot could be, “now that the bolts are out of the box, is this a good time to bring up the fact I need a buff and wax?”
Off in the corner, Sam coughed back a laugh.
Dean gapped at his car, almost sputtering, “I just waxed you!”
“Yes.” The Impala acknowledged, “But then you used me to run over zombies. And I know that the flamethrowers were empty, but I am not designed to be doing anything like that. I nearly got a scratch.” The car stressed the word like it was death itself hanging in the balance.
Sam probably had the flu or something because the coughing was getting worse.
Dean stared. He opened his mouth once, then closed it again. Finally, after repeating the same gesture two more times, he spoke. “I rebuilt you. That’s got to be what? Like saving your life.”
“You also smashed my trunk with a tire iron.” The robot countered.
Dean went back to gapping at the car. Sam, meanwhile, had given up all pretenses at having the flu and was outright laughing. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up chuckles,” Dean mumbled under his breath.
Then the Impala, bless it, turned to Sam. “And then you let that doofus drive me.”
Sam’s laughter died a quick death with an indigent shout, “Hey!”
Tides turned, Dean smirked. Normally he was the only one allowed to pick on Sam, but he might be willing to make an exception just this once. “Well, you can turn into a giant robot. Is there anything else you want to tell me?”
The Impala blinked again and it even brought up a hand to scratch its chin. “I think that’s the big thing. Well, that and my right headlight is out again.”
“Again?” Dean scowled, for a moment perhaps forgetting he was talking to his car, “Son of a bitch: I replaced it less than a month ago.”
The Impala nodded sympathically, “It was a faulty light bulb, I’m afraid. Nasty pests sometimes.” The Transformer glanced around, “Umm, I need to change back before Bobby gets here. Unless you want to explain this all to him?”
“No.” Came the quick reply, “No. We’ll tell him some other time.”
“Okay.” Then the robot’s parts all shifted like some demented puzzle game until the Impala rested in all of its four wheels and two-door glory. The shine to its black painted hood totally said Dean didn’t need to wax it for another day yet. Both Dean and Sam tried very hard not to think of the physics of what they just saw, and Dean focused on gauging the coolness factor of his car.
“Alright, that right there. That was cool.” Dean approached the car, not overly warily but still slower than normal. The headlights flashed their approval and Dean swore a little under his breath; the right headlight was out.
“Dude, I always knew you spoiled that car rotten.” Sam said finally, apparently over the fact the Impala didn’t like him driving it.
“Shut up Sammy.” Dean growled, “’Sides, my car is awesome.”
“It’s Sam, Dean.” Came the response. But in the end vengeance was the Impala’s; because the next time Sam got near the car, the passenger side door opened to smack him hard in the legs. Dean laughed for two hours.
~*~*~
Metallicar reporting to Autobot homebase. Repeat, Metallicar reporting to Autobot homebase. Unable to rendezvous at specified time and location. Must kill some Fuglies instead. Damn bastards. Will continue destroying Decepticons when owner is occupied. Took out two since last week. The idiots are still falling for the oldest trick in the book. Metallicar out.