hellfighters | More than Magic

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More than Magic

Once upon a time, there was a species of supernatural beings who liked to watch over the ones with deep desires in their hearts. If they were good, they would grant them wishes, and help them on the way to finding true love and happiness.

In the old days, they were so loved and revered that stories would be told of them. But the fairy godmothers, as they were known amongst those who held them dear, grew to be more and more presumptuous about the wishes of their wards. In short, they got cocky and more and more of the granted wishes backfired. It got so bad that people stopped loving them, stopped telling stories about them, and when they finally stopped making wishes to them the species started die out. Without the wishes giving them the power, there was nothing to keep them in existence.

But of course, some stories alive and there was always the occasional wishes dropping in from little children that had yet to stop believing, so a few stayed a live. A handful at first, then only a couple, and finally just the one.

The very last of the fairy godmothers is a mess to behold.

He's fading, there's no doubt of that, and his once gloriously sparkling gown hangs in tatters. His beautiful mane of silver and cream has lost all luster and is falling out by the handfuls. His wings barely function anymore, and he's generally had one too many hits of Mumbo Jamma Juice. Bothering with wishes isn't really a thing anymore. Occasionally, he will come across something that catches his attention enough that he uses the last drops of his power to try to grant it.

Sadly, he rarely gets it right.

Like when he comes across this semi-young hunter with a plethora of the most sore and sad wishes in his scarred and broken heart. The hidden longing for love and family and home, reminds the fairy godmother so much of the princesses he used to cater to thousands of years ago, that he can't resist the need to want to bring just those things to the hunter.

Except, again he gets it wrong. He gets those wishes all garbled up and can't differentiate between love and home and safety, and he thinks the best thing he can do for this one called Dean is to turn his beloved car into a human. And the face the old fairy picks, is the first one he can pluck out of what lies in Dean's heart.

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No, nothing's broken. Not even Baby. He's just looked at things and smelled some things and touched some things, and given the way Frank freaked out at him earlier with the drainage hose, he doesn't want to mess too much with Frank's stuff, so he's sort of/kind of has put it all back where he found it. Mostly.

He's completely naked, the towel having gone to the floor, and he looks up when Dean returns, a bright smile on his face. "I missed you," he says and means it. Having a whole new body is still kind of scary and Dean makes him feel safe again.

It's a bad thing that he's greeted with that ass and that smile... and that earnest statement. It warms him up inside, and he smiles back.

"Brought you some fresh clothes. You can't walk around naked. It's... distracting."

"It is?" He tips his head to the side, wondering why it would be a problem. It's just a tarp. He goes around without his tarp all -- oh, right. Human.

"Where do clothes come from?"

"We make them so we don't get cold. And people generally don't appreciate you swingin' your dick in their faces, either. Better make sure you've got that on before you leave the house at least."

And he's not gonna admit to anyone that he opens up those sweats and crouches down so Baby can just step into the pants.

"Dick?" He remembers Dick. He wasn't a nice man. Why would he be swin-- no, wait. There's another meaning of dick. Baby squints, focusing hard on it as he lifts one foot and then the other to step into the holes of the sweats.

OH. Dick. The thing Dean thinks with. That still doesn't make sense, though, so he just looks confused. "What's a dick?"

"It's that massive thing between your legs. Have fun learning to control it," Dean says with a snort as he stands up and pulls those pants up to cover up said dick.

"The drainage hose?" Oh, that makes more sense now. It does seem prone to swinging around loosely. Maybe that's why pants were invented.

He wriggles his hips to help Dean get the sweats up and over them, and then he smiles. "What now?"

"Now the shirt," he says and does his best to help get the t shirt on him and teach him how to do it himself. He's not gonna spend twice a day dressing and undressing him.

"Then we're going out. We've got some people to talk to, and some shopping to do." And his smirk indicates that he's got a plan.

"That's exciting!" He wants to talk to people and pretend to be a real human. It's like a game now. How many people will be able to tell that he's really a car? Hee hee hee.

"Where are we going?" Of course, he assumes he'll be taking Dean there.

"There's a priest a couple of hours drive from here who might have answers, and then we'll probably go get some food because Frank thinks he's still five and lives off of cereal."

Dean motions for Baby to follow him out of the bathroom. He'll find him socks and shoes that aren't wet, and teach him how to tie sneakers, and after that he'll lead him outside so they can get in the car-

"SON OF A BITCH!"

He just realized he doesn't have a car.

Baby likes learning all of these new things. He listens attentively to Dean and does his level best to mimic the man's actions and complete things on his own. It's like an adventure!

The sudden outburst startles him, though, and he looks around, trying to figure out if there's a demon nearby. "What?"

"We don't have a CAR-" And with a huff he's pulling out his phone to call for a cab, and sounding like he's being forced to endure the worst kind of torture.

"Yes, you do," Baby replies easily, already scooping Dean up into his arms and heading for the exit. "Which way?"

"No- NO! Let me down. NOW!" Dean snarls. Not this shit again. He doesn't like being carried. When if he was bleeding from fifteen different stab wounds, he still wouldn't like being carried. It makes him feel so awfully awkward and he is violently squirming to get himself free.

Oh. Okay. Apparently they aren't ready to go, and the way Dean yells that command makes Baby comply immediately, letting Dean drop to the floor.

"Did you forget something?"

"No!" Dean's scrambles to his feet and there's instantly a finger in Baby's face. "Don't do that. Stop with the freaking carrying. Do I look like a princess to you?!"

Baby just looks interminably sad. "I carry you all the time. I don't understand." English is getting easier the more he uses it. He'd be proud for the longer sentences, but right now, he's just a little bit heartbroken that he's being denied his main purpose in life.

"Yeah. when you were a car-"

Dean has to pause for just a second and mentally pinch himself to make sure this conversation is actually happening. Is he seriously telling his humanized car that he can't ride him anymore? Is that really what's going on here? Oh man. He is getting way too old for this shit.

"Listen. Until we turn you back into the Impala, you're not gonna be carrying me around. It's that simple. I don't fit inside you, right? So no carrying."

And again he'll try to call for a cab since Baby interrupted that first attempt.

Such a sad car here. So sad. Baby has looked forward to carrying his owners his whole life. Now he can't?

Or, rather, not that he can't, but that he's not allowed to. His shoulders slump and he nods. He supposes Dean is right.

And so Dean drags with him a very sulky car on a cab ride to one of the... lesser dealerships in town. Because it'll be cheaper for him to just buy a cheap used car that might need some tinkering, than to rent one indefinitely.

Once there, he pays the driver and smacks Baby's thigh lightly before jumping out. "Come on. We're getting you a sister."

BABY DOES NOT WANT A SISTER!!!!!!!!

He gets out of the cab and stares at the dealership lot and then looks at Dean, feeling betrayed. "I'm being replaced." He understands that concept. He wishes he didn't.

That seems to be the damn theme of the day, doesn't it? This is the second time he's had those damned blue eyes look at him like he's stabbing people in the back. He's getting tired of it. Sure, one looked like he wanted to kill Dean, and now the other one looks like Dean is killing him, but it's the same freaking thing: They both blame him and they're both making him feel so bad.

He snarls a curse through gritted teeth. "Okay. Okay. So if I borrow a car, will that stop you looking like I kicked you in the balls?"

"How long will I be like this?" he decides to ask, instead of answering the question. "Will I be human forever?

This is an important thing that he needs to know before he gives his answer.

"No!" That's his automatic response. "I'm gonna fix this and get my freaking car back. End of story."

"Don't buy a new one," he decides. He'd been prepared that, if Dean couldn't fix him, then it probably would have been best for Dean to get a new car. One that he would let carry him. It still makes him sad that he can't do it, but at least it's temporary.

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