More than Magic

[lovestheimpala]

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.

Comments

[bigvessel]

"Alright then." And he buckles up before he starts the car, figuring that the two assholes can call when his home is a safe zone again. And he drives them, fully according to the posted speed limit, to a small Irish tavern called the Blarny Stone.

"Now, they know FDR in there, so...say hi and not much else, to anyone who addresses you as him, alright?"

[james_kirk]

"I have to pretend to be Frank?" He's not particularly certain that's a good idea, but he's going to try anyway, so he nods eagerly. "I'll try not to be a leather daddy."

He's still not sure what that even means, but he knows Frank isn't one and he doesn't want to be one.

[bigvessel]

"No no no. No. Don't pretend. Just. Say hi. And nothing else, okay? Just you and me talk, alright?"

And he's not even going to ask...what that's supposed to mean. "He's going to kill me for this." But he only seems to consider that for a second before he's climbing out of the car, "Come on then."

[james_kirk]

"Hi," Baby practices, and then he nods. "Okay. I can do that." That's easy enough, isn't it? And he likes talking to Tuck.

"I'm surprised you haven't had sex with Dean yet," he says equally casually as he gets out of the car, as if this is just some strange thing he's noticed, no more important than a coin on the sidewalk.

[bigvessel]

"Good." And that seems settled enough that he starts walking down the street toward the bar and then the guy has to go and say something like that and he comes to a halt and reaches out to put a hand on Baby's chest to make him stop too.

"That's another thing. Sex is...to people who aren't Dean and FDR, sex is a private act. Between the people doing it. Whoever Dean's...had relations with, that's between those people. And it's their choice to talk about it. Do you understand? Why they got so upset with you, B?" Because that's what FDR calls him.

"For all they like to pretend, sex isn't always a casual thing. It's between two people who like and care about eachother and choose to be intimate. And that's-that's special." Hi, meet Tuck the romantic.

[james_kirk]

Baby frowns a little. There are a lot of concepts that he's still learning and this new explanation of sex is completely different from the casual thing that Dean made it seem.

Being human is hard. There's a lot of things he's not supposed to say and there's a lot of things he still has to learn and a lot of things people are getting mad at him for.

He nods again. "Okay." He'll learn everything eventually, right, and then being human won't be so hard? "What can we talk about?" he asks as he looks down at the hand on his chest.

[bigvessel]

"Well." And his hands slide into his pockets as he starts walking again. "It's never nice to talk about other people. But you're always welcome to talk about yourself. It's got to be hard, this change, yeah? How are you adjusting?"

[james_kirk]

"It is hard," Baby agrees readily and bobs his head as he follows Tuck, trying to figure out this pacing thing. He's supposed to walk beside Tuck, right? He can do that. Tuck doesn't make him feel like he's just a car. It's nice.

"I can't see to say anything right. Nobody's happy with me. Dean never yells at me, but he yelled at me today." He looks so, so sad about that. There is definitely some guilt going on with that right now. "I'm sorry I hit on you."

He didn't really mean to. It wasn't what he was trying to do.

[bigvessel]

"Yes, well." And his hand moves up to jerk at the collar of his shirt, obviously not sure exactly what to make of that apology. "As for angering Dean, just try to keep in mind that the stories you know might be something he never expected to share with anyone but you. Do you understand what secrets are?"

[james_kirk]

"I know what secrets are." Dean has a lot of secrets. So does Sam. Every human seems to have a lot of secrets. "But everything I know might be a secret. Does this mean I can't say anything?"

It's hard for him to draw the line between what's meant to be said out loud and what isn't. "He tells me a lot of things. How do I know what's secret?"

[bigvessel]

"Well. It's hard to know, really. But, the polite thing to do would be not to talk about anything he's told you or done, just assume that was meant to be between the two of you. If you want to talk to people, talk about yourself. How you're feeling. What you want. Nobody's going to learn anything about you otherwise."

They make it inside with just the few casual nods that indicate this place is familiar to Tuck, and he leads Baby toward the back where the darts are. "FDR tells me a lot of things too, but I don't repeat them. Because that's what friends do."

[james_kirk]

"I can't talk about myself with people," Baby replies with a frown. "I'm not supposed to tell people I'm a car." And since he's been a human all of a day, his experience as a human is very, very limited. He's in a bit of a bind, then. How's he supposed to communicate with anybody when the only two things he knows anything about -- Dean and himself -- are topics he's not supposed to talk about?

He looks around at all the people and takes in the smells. It smells like... lots of things. Alcohol and food, mostly. And people. It smells a lot like people.

"At least I can talk to you. You're nice to me. You and Dean are the only ones who are."

[bigvessel]

"Well. You just. Leave out the car parts." He digs through his pockets and pulls out some quarters and hands them over to Baby.

"Yeah, well. FDR is actually...he'd be good to you, if he could see past your face." And that's about all he's going to say on that particular issue.

"You see that machine over there? With all the glowing lights? That's the jukebox. It plays songs. Whatever songs you want. You just browse through until you hear something you like, and then you press the green button to buy it. Want to try?"

[james_kirk]

"You try leaving out the human parts when you talk about yourself," Baby says, eyebrows raised before he gets up from the table, sliding the coins off and into his hand.

He looks over at the jukebox and then weaves his way through the crowd, returning smiles and waves on the odd occasion that he gets them.

The jukebox is a foreign-looking thing to him. He can't actually read. There's a few words that he knows, so he looks at familiar ones.

Led Zeppelin, for example. He knows what that says. He puts in coins until the machine seems to want to let him push buttons, then he pushes the same buttons as the numbers beside that particular name. As it turns out, it's Ramble On, and he recognizes that song as one of Dean's favorites.

He likes this jukebox thing now! So much so that he starts moving his hips and singing along with the music.

[bigvessel]

"Trust me, there are plenty of parts I leave out." And maybe he didn't handle it the best way, since he's now divorced and has a kid that doesn't much like him.

But Baby is gone and he watches him flip through the jukebox, which is fine and normal. And then...he's dancing and he could just see FDR killing him for letting anyone see that. Sure, FDR dances...but not like that. And he certainly doesn't sing in public.

Ah well. And he waves over a couple of beers.

[james_kirk]

It might be embarrassing for FDR, but dancing around is making Baby's mood improve to something more resembling happiness. Once the song ends, though, and he's been completely oblivious to some of the leers and looks that have been sent his way, he realizes that Dean would have liked to have been here and he feels bad for leaving. He's been a bad car.

Making his way back to the table, he sits down and frowns at Tuck. "Do you think Dean is going to be mad at me? I was supposed to wait." He has no idea what that beer is or that it might be for him, so he only spares it a glance.

[bigvessel]

Tuck shrugs and nudges a drink in Baby's direction before pointedly taking a sip of his own. "Doubt it, really. He's probably a little distracted with FDR. And...he never told you to wait." Just, pointing that out.

[james_kirk]

He looks at the beer and looks at Tuck, and then mimics the action, taking a sip of the beverage before he nearly chokes on it before he looks at the label. So this is what Dean likes to drink? Beer? There's been boxes of it in him before. It doesn't taste that good, but he'll drink it anyway.

"He never tells me to wait. I'm supposed to wait anyway."

[bigvessel]

"It's an acquired taste." Tuck mutters, its hard not to recognize that face of dislike. Even though it's someone else, that face is still that of his best friend.

"Well, he might need to start treating you differently now. But, soon as you're ready, I'll take you."

[james_kirk]

"I'm afraid he doesn't like me because he already has one of me." He still doesn't really understand why he looks like Frank and why Frank looks like him and the only real explanation he has right now is that they're the same kind of car that's been turned into a human. Which means Dean already has another Impala-human, or whatever he is.

"I've always been with a Winchester. I'm not sure what to do if he doesn't want me anymore. What do you do when your owner doesn't want you anymore, Tuck?"

[bigvessel]

"Already has one of you? What the....the mustang?" And he gestured toward the street with a shrug, "That's not it, mate."

And he takes a long sip of his beer at that question. Because he shouldn't be able to make parallels to Katy, but he does anyway. "Well. That's-that's um." Nope, another drink. "I suppose you move on. Eventually. You go pursue your own interests and you do your job and you just keep going."

Sorry, he's not exactly positive about that divorce yet.

[james_kirk]

"What? No, not the mustang. That's-- That abomination is beside the point. I mean Frank. I look like him, I sound like him. Or he looks like me. I don't know. But that means he was an Impala before, right?" Follow his logic here, Tuck. Baby's not crazy.

He also doesn't like the idea of moving on. The Winchesters have literally been his whole life. Dean was conceived in Baby, which sounds weird, but is fact. Baby's been there for nearly every pivotal point in Dean's life. He wants to be there for every pivotal point to come, too.

"Maybe that's easy for you because you're human. I'm a car. I've only got one purpose. I've only got one interest."

[bigvessel]

...That's terrible logic, Baby and it the judgement shows on Tuck's expression.

"FDR has always been FDR. He's never been a car. He was always human." There, he's said it three different ways for you, Baby. Pick up on one of them please. "What happened to you, it isn't normal. Cars don't turn into people. And for whatever reason, you took on FDR's features when you became one."

And he shrugs at the rest. "Well, 'til they can figure out how to turn you back, B, sorry to say, but you're just about as human as they get."

[james_kirk]

Don't judge, Tuck. Baby's only, like, a day and a half old, okay? He's still a little simple.

"So... we're not the same." Now he doesn't know what to make of that or why he's identical to FDR. Or Frank. Or whatever his name is. So he looks like FDR for... reasons. Unknown reasons. Okay.

He scrunches his face up, confusion evident. This is not helping his understanding of the world.

"I just have to try to fit in for now, then. Am I a weird human? How do I be more human?"

[bigvessel]

Yeah, sorry, Tuck doesn't have any answers. This shit is something he's just recently learned and he's having a hard time swallowing any of it. But he can't ignore that Baby is pretty much an identical twin of his only sibling friend.

"Mm. A little weird. Don't worry, some people are human their whole lives and never quite get it right."