Baby

CNK 80Q3

A knock sounded on the door to the Winchester's motel room. Sam glanced up from his research as Dean finished putting the gun he had been cleaning back together and cocked it, making his way toward the door. Glancing at Sam, he swung the door open, pointing the handgun at the person in the doorway.

"Do you always answer the door by pointing a gun in people's faces? Honestly, it's a wonder you two haven't been arrested more often."

Dean gaped as the young woman rolled her eyes and pushed past him into the room, completely disregarding the gun still pointed at her. Sam stood up from his place at the table, eyeing the gun still on the bed.

"Honestly, Sammy, not you too," the young woman groaned.

Both brothers jumped as the familiar purr of an engine briefly met their ears.

"What was that?" Sam demanded.

"Me," she shrugged. "Tends to happen occasionally."

"You? But that sounded like-" Dean cut himself off, eyes widening. "No way."

"I think he just realized," the girl grinned at Sam, giving Dean a wink.

"You... You're the Impala?"

"In the flesh!"

Dean gaped as the young woman smirked at him. His eyes gave the girl a once over, trying to take it all in. Her hair was a dark charcoal black and fell in waves down her back and shoulders. She had a pale, slightly tanned complexion, silver-grey eyes, and full lips. She wore a loose black and white flannel shirt and black jeans that hugged her curves just enough with a simple pair of black ballet flats on her feet. She looked to be 19 at least, maybe early 20s.

"How do we know it's really you?" Sam asked.

"What? Because hearing my engine a moment ago wasn't enough?" she cocked her head to the side, reminding Dean a lot of Cass.

When Sam just stared at her expectantly, she sighed, rolling her eyes as she turned her back to them and lifted up the bottom of her shirt. There, at the small of her back just above her jeans, was a tattoo bearing a sequence of numbers and letters: CNK 80Q3- the Impala's plates. Letting her shirt fall back into place, she turned back to face them.

"I miss my KAZ 2Y5 tags, but oh well. I can show you other things if that's not enough," she looked at Sam then Dean.

"Other things?"

"Mm-hm. Like this," she lifted up the front of her shirt this time to reveal two sets of crude initials scarred over on her skin: DW and SW. "The initials you two carved into my back window deck."

Letting her shirt fall back into place once more, she tapped on the back of her left thigh.

"Can't see it right now, but there's a tattoo of the army man Sammy jammed into my ashtray right here, and," she coughed and they heard a rattling sound in her throat, "that would be the Legos Dean left in my vents. Still can't breathe properly, thank you very much."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she fell back into a much more relaxed position, with her hip slightly cocked as she leaned to the side with one foot out.

"So do I pass or do I need to provide more?"

"N-no, you pass," Dean shook his head, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that his car was now a 20-ish year old girl.

"Oh, goody. So, have you two figured out a way to turn me back yet?"

"We, um, we were actually in the middle of some research when you showed up," Sam informed her.

"Awesome. So what have you found out?"

"Not much, actually. We learned that someone is turning cars into humans and having them kill their owners and shortly afterward, they turn up dead."

"They... what?"

Baby's silver-grey eyes widened as she looked from one Winchester to the other, trying to process Sam's words.

"Yeah, dozens of cars have gone missing and about ten have turned up dead in the morgue as humans," Dean continued. "And we found a website that mentioned that every time a car has turned up dead, someone local was murdered just hours before."

"B-but that's impossible," Baby shook her head, scrunching her eyes closed in denial.

"Baby? Baby, listen to me," Dean took a step forward, tone comforting. "We're going to figure this out. We're not... I'm not going to let anything happen to you, okay?"

Silver-grey found green as Baby stared up at her owner, calmed by his words. Swallowing a lump in her throat, the car nodded her head in understanding.

"Alright. Now, is there anything you can tell us? Anything you remember from getting turned?"

Baby bit her lip, brow furrowed in concentration, before opening her mouth to speak.