One week to go. 7 days. Still seems like forever. Today I'm keeping the love simple and pure. A boy and his dog. Or, should I say? A man and his car. Dean and Baby.
Baby's always been there for him. She's been the only home he's known his entire adult life. She may have her occasional hiccups, afterall, she is over 40 years old. But it's okay. They're very forgiving of each other. Dean knows how to please his Baby. His hands know how to stroke her slow and sure, and make her purr. Baby knows Dean cares, even when he takes out his frustrations on her precious metal. For she too knew the one he grieves for - he loved her first, but not like Dean.
Baby understands each wound and heartbreak, recognizing each scar as her own, but also relishes in the pleasures he receives in her backseat. She feels the overwhelming amount of love pain safety confusion protection regret home love he feels for his passenger. She and the other one have their own relationship, built on a shared past, grief, guilt and pain. A different kind of love. A different kind of home. Dean was hers as much as she was his, and she missed him when he was gone. But now he's back. Dean is back. Dean is home again.
ETA: Make sure you check out Patita Fea's comment down below. That is, if you want a laugh.