Baby

Remembering... Sort of

Baby gasped as the angel's fingers touched her forehead, a slight rattling sound coming from her throat as she did so. Her silvery-grey eyes glazed over and she went rigid as Castiel's grace pulled forward a memory. A moment later, he pulled back and she relaxed once more.

"Well?" Dean asked his car expectantly.

"Lucas Foster."

"What?"

"Lucas Foster. He, uh, he was helping... someone... to turn the cars. I don't... I don't remember who else," Baby shook her head.

"Okay, that's a start," Dean looked to his brother. "Is there anything else you can remember?"

Baby bit her lip, letting out a little whining sound as she tried to recall any other useful bits of information.

"There was another car... a um, green 1992 Jaguar XJS V12 Convertible named Elliot... He was nicer to me than the others were."

"How many others were there?" Sam asked, already typing away on his laptop.

"I don't... a lot? Mostly newer models. Elliot was the oldest besides me," Baby told him.

"You don't remember anything else?"

Baby furrowed her brow, concentrating, before shaking her head to the negative.

"No, nothing else."

She looked over at Dean again, like a child seeking praise or approval from a parent. He smiled at her, nodding, and she gave a shy smile in return.

"Ah hah! Found it," Sam announced. "Lucas Foster, lives here in town. He works as a mechanic at a garage on main street, not far from the morgue. His wife Layla is actually the woman who let us see the dead cars when we first arrived."

"He mentioned a Layla," Baby said. "During our first conversation together. He said Layla called and said you two were in town and he got excited... it was his chance to impress... ugh."

She gave a growl, her engine revving as she did so. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't recall the name of Luke's boss, even as other bits and pieces slowly came to her.

"So it's that woman's fault you're like this," Dean let out a growl of his own.

"Yeah. Luke said as soon as he heard, he knew he had to add me to their collection."

"Add you to their..."

"Alright, easy there, tiger," Sam talked down his brother. "She's with us now, not them."

"But they-"

"Don't have her anymore."

Dean pursed his lips, jaw set as he crossed his arms over his chest and continued to fume silently.

"Okay, it's getting late. We know where to find this Lucas. We can go talk to him first thing tomorrow morning," Sam shut the laptop. "For now, let's get some shut eye. We've all had a long day."

Castiel vanished with a flutter of wings as soon as Sam spoke.

"I can, uh, take the couch," Baby said.

"You sure? You're welcome to take one of the beds. I'm sure Dean wouldn't mind," Sam asked her, getting a glare from his brother.

"Sam, I'm used to sleeping outside on the asphalt. I don't mind sleeping on a couch," she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, alright."

---

Baby's eyes snapped open as she heard the familiar moans and whimpers coming from the two men laying in the beds. She was no stranger to her boys' nightmares, having comforted them with the adjustments of her bench springs as they slept within her on the nights they couldn't manage to get a room. Blinking twice, her eyes glowed brighter and she turned the mini headlights in the direction of the beds, observing as Sam and Dean tossed and turned in their sleep.

Silently she made her way over, sitting on the floor between the two beds. She might not be able to comfort them in the way she normally did, but she did know one thing that was sure to work. Shutting off her headlights, she began to sing the opening notes of Bob Segar's Night Moves. When she reached the end, she looked over to see Sammy completely still and a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Turning her gaze to the elder Winchester, she saw that Dean still appeared troubled, although he had stopped moving around as much. Opening her mouth once more, she began Carry on Wayward Son by Kansas.

As she sang, she moved closer to Dean's bed, reaching out to smooth the wrinkles on his forehead. Suddenly, one of his hands shot out from under his pillow, grabbing her wrist. She faltered slightly, her voice catching before she continued to sing. Dean rolled over in his sleep, pulling her with him. As she finished the song, she found herself on the bed, wrapped tightly in the arms of her owner.