Dean knows exactly what the billboard would say, but when asked about it he goes a shade paler and even stumbles back a step. He didn't think he would ask. He expected more of an unspoken understanding. Because come on, they both know. How could he NOT know.
"First thing's first. I didn't tell Baby anything. He guessed. I know it's all still up in the air about what he really is and the whole concept of a car turning into a living, breathing guy who can pinpoint exactly the worst possible thing you're feeling- But- But bear with me on this. It makes sense that he can do that, especially with me. You gotta remember, if he's that car, he's been there for every single thing ever that happened to me and my family. I was almost born in that car. I've told the Impala every damned secret I ever had. Stuff I couldn't even really admit to myself. And I'm freaking sure Sam's done the same, and my dad would do the same. That car's family. Of course it's gonna take one look at anything that goes on with me and know what the shit is happening."
"But you gotta remember- It's a freaking car. I don't know how the hell it's got memories, but the memories it has are just of whatever happened in or around it. It doesn't have the whole picture. Baby doesn't know everything, and he doesn't understand the shit he does know enough to be able to say stuff like what I like or don't like, or comment on anything else. Anything that comes outta him's just part of the picture."
He has to stop for air, but HE'S NOT DONE YET. No point in breaking the walls and decide to talk if they're not going to actually TALK, so he's gonna say it all while he feels he has half a chance to do so. At least he won't walk away from this feeling that he should have or could have. At least this way, if FDR blows it off... he knows not to waste his time around these parts anymore.
But it's the subject that makes Dean fidget and hesitate. "And... your face isn't your best feature. Yeah, you're hot but that's not- It's not why I keep coming back for more. There's plenty of hot chicks and big dicks out there. S'not why I keep coming back- It's not why I l- like you." His ability to form sentences is quickly dissolving.
He actually takes another step back, chest heaving like an animal right on the verge of sprinting off. Someone trained to read people, like FDR, should be able to see how pathetically honest that fear is. It's not that he doesn't mean the shit his saying, even if he stumbles over the last of his point and ends up just blurting out that: "Should be freaking OBVIOUS what's on the damn billboard!"
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carisma_sensei
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Date: 2016-02-01 10:36 pm (UTC)"First thing's first. I didn't tell Baby anything. He guessed. I know it's all still up in the air about what he really is and the whole concept of a car turning into a living, breathing guy who can pinpoint exactly the worst possible thing you're feeling- But- But bear with me on this. It makes sense that he can do that, especially with me. You gotta remember, if he's that car, he's been there for every single thing ever that happened to me and my family. I was almost born in that car. I've told the Impala every damned secret I ever had. Stuff I couldn't even really admit to myself. And I'm freaking sure Sam's done the same, and my dad would do the same. That car's family. Of course it's gonna take one look at anything that goes on with me and know what the shit is happening."
"But you gotta remember- It's a freaking car. I don't know how the hell it's got memories, but the memories it has are just of whatever happened in or around it. It doesn't have the whole picture. Baby doesn't know everything, and he doesn't understand the shit he does know enough to be able to say stuff like what I like or don't like, or comment on anything else. Anything that comes outta him's just part of the picture."
He has to stop for air, but HE'S NOT DONE YET. No point in breaking the walls and decide to talk if they're not going to actually TALK, so he's gonna say it all while he feels he has half a chance to do so. At least he won't walk away from this feeling that he should have or could have. At least this way, if FDR blows it off... he knows not to waste his time around these parts anymore.
But it's the subject that makes Dean fidget and hesitate. "And... your face isn't your best feature. Yeah, you're hot but that's not- It's not why I keep coming back for more. There's plenty of hot chicks and big dicks out there. S'not why I keep coming back- It's not why I l- like you." His ability to form sentences is quickly dissolving.
He actually takes another step back, chest heaving like an animal right on the verge of sprinting off. Someone trained to read people, like FDR, should be able to see how pathetically honest that fear is. It's not that he doesn't mean the shit his saying, even if he stumbles over the last of his point and ends up just blurting out that: "Should be freaking OBVIOUS what's on the damn billboard!"