Back in Black (Open)

[chosenfreedom]

Characters: Dean Winchester, and anybody else who wants to see the mysterious Impala
Time: Just after the meeting
Location: Outside the Feinberg Theater
Content: Reunited and it feels so good to be back in black.
Format: Prose or poster's choice
Warning: Winchester means profanity and innuendo abound.
Notes: Multiple threads welcome

Comments

[huntingmemory]

Sam had followed slightly more slowly, stopping at the doors to the theater. He didn't need to see Dean go straight to the car to know that this was it. This was the Impala, the car he sometimes saw out of the corner of his eye. And now it was in front of him.

Taking a breath, he walked to the street, stopping at the sound of the engine and scent of exhaust. Hadn't he seen somewhere that scent was the strongest sense when it came to memory? There was no doubt in his mind that he knew that smell. Hundreds of thousands of miles had burned that into his very bones.

Sam brushed his fingers over the back panel, lost in thought and half memory.

[chosenfreedom]

Of course, his brother would choose this moment of introspection to pop one of his mix tapes in, and blast some AC/DC. He did a head bang, and drummed the steering wheel as he listened to the music. It felt good, familiar, comforting.

A few minutes later, he cut the music and the engine with a sigh. Just like old times, the both of them, and the Impala. Now they just needed an open road to take her on.

[huntingmemory]

Hearing, too. Sam winced back, rubbing at his ear. But even that was familiar. Very familiar.

Finally, he popped the passenger door open and folded himself into the seat. There was room enough for his legs, which was slightly surprising. But older cars were better about that. The scent of leather hit his nose and Sam let his head fall back, eyes closed as he remembered roads. Lots and lots of roads.

It took a moment before he remembered, "You're afraid of flying." Nonsecquiter, but it was what came to mind first.

[chosenfreedom]

Dean turned his head to the side, and gave a small smile. Yeah, this was what was missing. Just the sight of seeing his brother folding into the front seat, and riding shotgun.

He then stared at him for a moment, "Yeah, what the hell does that..." Wait a second. Oh shit. Well she brought him back from the brink before.

"You're remembering."

[godofcologne]

The white sports car was toast, which meant Thomas had gone looking around the city for something new. 'Something new' at the moment meant a sleek, white motorcycle. He started it, an unconscious smile playing at his lips at the quiet, almost inaudible purr of the engine. German engineering was a beautiful thing.

He kicked off, intending to head back to the Hard Rock, and had to swing wide around a boat of a car that had not been there when they'd walked in. Must have been the Impala Copperfield had mentioned. The fact that Dean seemed to be blissed out in the front seat fondling the dash cinched it.

"Hey, you want to get that Antique Roadshow off the road?"

[chosenfreedom]

Fondling was right. The old girl was his home and one of his loves in life.

He gave him a glare, and kept patting the dash, "Don't listen to him, baby. Sparky there just doesn't have the heart to appreciate a classic."

[godofcologne]

There was something sad about being that enamored of a car. But on the other hand, given how well being enamored of an actual woman had worked out for Thomas, maybe the whole inanimate object thing was safer. Still sad though.

"There's classic and then there's old and slow, princess," he drawled back. "I'd rather have something young and flexible."

[chosenfreedom]

Yeah well he'd argue that this girl ain't never left him. He's had to leave her a few times, but he'd always come back.

Dean narrowed his eyes more at that, "This girl's got more experience than that crotch rocket you're hauling. And she handles better."

[legallygreen]

It was more than a little disturbing to see a man so desperately in love with a car. But it made Jennifer smile as she came out of the building to see him leaning over the open hood, talking to the car like he had just embraced his wife after coming back from war.

...When he cried in the hotel room, it better not have been over this.

Carrying her umbrella, Jennifer approached him and the car, doing her best to not just laugh aloud at his behavior.

"Nice car."

[chosenfreedom]

No, it wasn't. His life is just one big fuck up in his opinion. Granted the Impala was a big part of his life, his and Sam's. It was the one thing that helped Sam fight the devil back. (Well her and Dean, though Dean didn't think he counted for much other than being Lucifer's punching bag at the time.)

He glanced up, and grinned at her as he closed the hood, "Told you she's a beauty."

[legallygreen]

"It's no Los Angeles sheriff's department police car, but it'll do."

A smile that was a little beyond just a friendly memory touched her lips as she thought about that particular day. Jennifer walked closer and looked the Impala over.

"Tony would have dug this. He liked classic cars. And modern cars. And anything with an engine and four wheels that he could make go very, very fast."

[chosenfreedom]

Dean fixed her look because come on, there's no comparison.

"Man's got good taste then. Shame he ain't here."

[pomergeist]

Missile didn't know anything about meetings, or wizards, or any of the complicated things that had gone on. He was just hopping from core to core through the city; away from that big shiny bean thing, there was an awful lot of junk lying around!

Sitting inside a nearby mailbox, he noticed a human acting a little weird over a car. A good look showed that the man did indeed have a core, as well. Curiosity piqued, the ghost decided to make his way over for a closer look, reaching over to a fire hydrant from the mailbox. From there, it was an easy hop to the car wheel, and Missile reached over to connect with him.

"Hi there!" Said the image of a dog appearing in Dean's head. "Hey, you know cars can't talk, right?"

[chosenfreedom]

"She talks in her own way," Dean started to say, and then blinked. He looked around because he could see a dog, but somebody was definitely talking. Only it wasn't with his usual senses. Creepy.

"Dogs can't talk either. Least not in human languages."

[pomergeist]

"Well, I know that!" It was said with that sort of tone of a child reminding an adult that they weren't a baby anymore. "I don't think that the language of the dead really counts as a human language, though."

He twitched his ears as he thought it over. "I guess cars sometimes get really loud, huh?" His tail waggled, and he gave a small bark. "And then I always wanna get really loud back!"

[chosenfreedom]

Dean tried to peer, but hard to do so with a mental image of a dog. Language of the dead? It's fucking ghost dog or something?

"Yeah, usually they get really loud when there's a problem with the engine or the muffler," he remarked out loud, a little uneasy.

[lady_glaive]

Kel wandered out of the theater and saw another one of those "car" things that she had ridden in the other night while hunting vampires. It seemed to be a nicer one, if "shiny" was also equal to "better" in this world. Dean seemed to like this one more, if the way he was petting it and talking to it was any indication.

She walked around to the driver's side window and peered inside. "She yours?"

[chosenfreedom]

Dean nodded as he glanced back, "Yes she is. Old girl made her way here."

[lady_glaive]

Kel tried to think of what would be appropriate here. She knew horses, not cars.

"She looks very...shiny."