Everyone who knows about me and the boys, also knows that we'd do anything for each other, including dying, or in my case being totally trashed and rebuilt practically from scratch, but Dean and I are so gonna have words over this!
I mostly get by fine without a voice; my eldest and I understand each other like no other, but if I was able to speak, I'd be screaming right now.
I hate this garage! It gives me the shivers. It's dark and it's cold and it's lonely.
All I can make out are the black shadows of the old guys parked all around me. It's like hanging out in a grave-yard with a bunch of ghosts just ready to come to life.
I'm an outdoors gal, always have been ever since I came off the assembly line.
I love the wide open spaces, the starry skies, the boys keeping me company on a cold night stretched out on my hood a beer in hand enjoying each other's company, the three of us in synch with the world, but this; this is like being buried alive. It has got to stop!
The boys used to park me just outside the doors of the 'bunker' as they call it, and I was fine with that.
The building's in a nice place and I got to have a great view of the panorama.
The endless expanse of fields and pastures comforted me, I felt part of the nature that buzzed and flew and burrowed all around me.
Okay, sometime a a cheeky bird would mistake me for his personal toilet and leave me a little bit splattered, but hearing Dean swear and curse when he came along and saw the violation to my bodywork made up for it.
Sam would get that little smile on his face he has when his brother goes overboard with the F words!
Plus out here I was always ready and on the alert if the boys needed me in a hurry.
I so wish Dean had never discovered this damn garage, and worse that he thought I'd be better off down here with these mummies than I was out on the road.
He'd been over the moon when he'd found all these old cars and to be honest I felt a tiny twinge of that old green-eyed monster, jealousy, nibbling at my innards. It hurt me to see him cooing over the old dummies.
I have to say though my Sammy was less than impressed.
He took one glance at the garage full of cars, turned down his lips into his trade-mark upside down smile and leaned back against my side as if to comfort me.
Sammy has always been the more empathic of my boys, he must have felt my unhappiness with the damn garage and with Dean's enthusiasm for any car that wasn't me.
Dean thought he was doing me a favour, I get it.
Down here I'd be sheltered from the elements, out of the heat, rain and snow and I'd also be hidden away from any evil guys who might spot me parked outside what seemed to all effects a derelict building, but there's only so much a girl can take; and being buried alive down here kinda draws the line for me.
It takes a lot to piss me off but I wasn't going to remain another second in this coffin.
Now you're gonna tell me an Impala doesn't have much she can do to get herself out of a place like this, but you'd be surprised!
Dean stirred uneasily under the covers, something on the edge of his subconscious causing him to awaken.
"Who freaking set the alarm-clock?" he grunted as he opened bleary eyes, only to remember that he didn't own one.
Who the hell was making that noise then, he wondered,.
The bunker was ghost-free and even if it did have a resident ghost, he doubted it would be announcing itself in such a noisy manner.
He was still debating the point when the door flew open and Sam was framed in the doorway, his head an inch from hitting the top. Freaking gigantic little brothers!
"I hear it Sam," Dean replied pulling on his pants. "Sounds like some banshee decided to pay us a visit and ruin my beauty sleep, but the old crone is gonna pay. Mark my words."
"Dean," Sam repeated around his bitch-face. "You honestly think that noise is coming from a banshee?"
Dean smiled up at him. "No, I don't Sammy. I just love to see you bitch-face me. Nothing like a good one first thing in the morning to wake you up!"
Sam's face scrunched up into an even deeper scowl. Sammy never failed to amuse him; well he added mentally, except when he frustrated the hell out of him!
"It's coming from underneath; must be the garage," Sam added.
Now that Dean was completely awake, the noise seemed terribly familiar.
"It's the Impala," he said. "That's her hooter. Something must be wrong with the battery, but with the engine switched off, I can't understand why it should go off like that."
"Maybe she's possessed," Sam offered, only to receive a Dean-patented scowl, which if not a bitch-face was near enough.
"You're joking, dude," he replied as they made their way along the corridor to the door that led down to the garage.
"Wouldn't be the first time, " Sam shrugged, but he didn't really believe that. It was just nice to bait his big brother!
Dean flicked the switch, illuminating the garage in a yellowish light.
Down here the noise was ear-splitting, the echoes in the cavernous void causing the noise to multiply a hundred-fold.
"What the hell," Dean mouthed to his brother over the honking, as both brothers made their way to the Impala.
Dean pulled open the door to check the dash, but the engine was definitely switched off and there was no way the horn should be making that damn noise.
"Come on, baby," Dean whispered. "What's going on?"
I was sorry to have pulled my boys from their sleep but I had to get out of here and this was the only way I had of making my feelings known.
Dean came over and inspected me,but there was nothing for him to find. My horn was honking because I wanted it too. It was one of the few things I could do; my battery was my own and I could use it as I wished!
Dean looked over the top of my roof encountering his brother's eyes.
"There's nothing wrong, Sam," he shouted over the noise. "No reason for the Impala to be making this racket!"
Sam thought for a moment. I could almost hear the gears turning in his brain before he spoke.
"What if it's a call for help, Dean? Or a protest of some kind?"
Dean glanced at him as if he was nuts. "A call for help? You're joking right, Sam?"
"You can't find any scientific reason why she's making this noise, Dean, so..."
"Oh come on, Sammy. You don't really think... "
Sam shrugged. "We deal in the supernatural every day. Maybe something rubbed off on the Impala too."
"Go, Sammy, " I smiled to myself. " My empathic little one had got the point.
"So, just what is she trying to tell us, brainiac?" Dean said sarcastically.
"You know what, Dean," Sam replied pursing his lips. "This place gives me the creeps. Maybe the car gets the creepy vibes too. Could be she doesn't like it here."
Dean gaped at him as if he had grown an extra head.
"Sam, I know I treat the Impala as if she were alive but...," he wavered, passing a hand over his face. "I do realise she's a machine, dude."
"Fine," Sam answered. "Let's take her outside then. We can get a better look at her in the open air. Sun's up and the light's better than in here."
Dean rolled his eyes, nevertheless he got in and switched on the engine; all the while I continued to honk as loud as possible.
As soon as the car exited the garage into the fresh morning air, the deafening noise stopped as if by magic, causing Sam to smirk at his big brother with all the superiority of having been in the right.
"Dude," Dean sputtered. "What the friggin' hell! No way!"
He glanced over at Sam, who still had the smirk plastered on his face.
Dean put the car in reverse, not yet ready to accept his little brother's theory, and backed the Impala into the garage. No sooner had her four wheels entered it than the honking started up again, and Sam's smirk got impossibly bigger!
After a series of back and forth, during which each time the Impala entered the garage she would honk and each time she exited the honking would stop, Dean had to accept what was happening.
His 'mechanical vehicle' did not want to remain in that garage!
Dean deftly manoeuvred her to where he used to park before, and the brothers got out.
The elder Winchester shook his head as he contemplated his now placid baby, not a honk to be heard.
He looked up in confusion at Sam.
"You really think she was protesting because she didn't like being down in the garage?" he asked.
"Nobody likes to be shut in," Sam replied. "You've always treated the Impala as a human, maybe some of that transferred itself to her. Remember, supernatural, Dean! That's our daily bread!"
"Yeah, whatever," he passed a caressing hand on the Impala's bodywork. "If she prefers being out here, then that's where she'll stay," Dean affirmed.
He clapped a hand on his sibling's shoulder.
"Come on, Mr. Empathy. Let's go rustle up some breakfast. You deserve the Dean Winchester Morning Special for figuring out how to keep my baby happy."
Sam smiled back.
Dean had become a good cook since he had adopted the bunker's kitchen, not that he hadn't fed Sam all of his life anyway, but now he did it because it gave him pleasure to see Sam's surprise at the goodies he came up with, and Sam was fine with that.
Dean's cooking had improved by leaps and bounds, and Sam would coo all over it if it made his big brother happy.
"Give it all you've got Dean. I could eat a bear, I'm so hungry."
Dean grinned back. "Well then, one extra-large Sasquatch-sized breakfast coming up!"
I smiled as they walked off towards the building, shoulders touching. My sweet boys. They had been through so much but maybe fate would let them have a little respite though I didn't hold out much hope.
They were Winchesters after all!
As for me, I was more than happy. I glanced around enjoying the view; the fresh air caressing me, the birds whistling. Life was good.
I was out of that garage.
My horn was a bit over-used and aching, but it had been worth it.