And it's adjustable for pretty necks, of course.

in provenance, the impala is depicted as quite dirty and beat-up, scuffed up and covered in mud. this is not the typical image that comes to mind when you say a man loves his car. in later seasons too, the impala tends to look shiny and new, and dean is seen performing maintenance on it pretty regularly—at least, there are many scenes that show dean taking care of it, and there are also many scenes which touch on dean's possessiveness and care for his car.

this isn't the case in season 1. season 1 dean has a beat-up hand-me-down from his dad which he loves and admires but is still willing to let it get dirty and dented and scuffed.

in season 1, the impala represents john.

based on how john talks about the car in dead man's blood, he still has a semblance of ownership over it: john gave dean the car, but he still considers it "his" in the sense that he feels entitled to judge how dean cares for it. dean, too, doesn't argue with this. in season 3, dream dean even uses this against real dean to drag out his insecurities and his abysmal self-esteem:

both john and dean agree that the impala is john's car. this makes sense because the impala is also sam and dean's literal home, or the closest to home they've ever gotten.

you have a good "home is where the heart is" kind of connection here: the impala is home, and john is the impala—john is home, john is their father, john is the thing that connects sam and dean by blood. et cetera et cetera.

so if the impala represents john, then how dean treats the impala gives the audience a lovely visual metaphor for how dean feels about john. provenance is just one episode after something wicked, where dean is finally starting to extricate himself from his father. the entire season has followed dean as he experiences betrayal after betrayal from his father, and in shadow we see evidence that he doesn't actually believe that his father will come to protect them anymore—he's effectively given up on john as someone to rely on, and he's spent the whole season separating himself from john and attaching himself to sam instead. provenance gives a nice wink and nod at this by showing the state of the impala—dean is upset with john, their relationship is crumbling, and dean doesn't know how to repair it.

one episode later john remarks on the state of the car, and one episode later dean finally defies his father for seemingly the first time.

so when dean starts destroying the impala in everybody loves a clown, what dean is actually destroying is john.

he feels angry, upset, hurt, betrayed all over again. john is dead, and his final words to his son gave him an impossible task. dean takes the crowbar to the impala right after sam corners him into another conversation about john—this is an outpouring of his emotions about him, all concentrated on the last remaining symbol of his father.

but what i think is interesting is that sam doesn't see the impala this way.

sam sees the impala as dean. the symbolism here is very, very obvious. if sam gives up on the impala, then he's metaphorically giving up on dean. and sam refuses to let dean die, so he can't let the impala die, either. to sam, the impala is dean. which necessarily means that to sam, dean is his home, as well.

which is exactly what he just chose in the season 1 finale when he picked dean over his revenge. sam spent the entire season scared to "go home," and in devil's trap he finally returns for good to his home—to dean.

and in bloodlust, the impala is fixed, and she's shining like new. from this moment on, dean shows a rather pointed possessiveness over his car.

this is also the first time dean calls the impala "baby." this is the first thing that happens after dean destroyed it in the episode prior. the dissonance gives a sense of rebirth: something happened between dean destroying the impala and dean fixing it. something happened between dean using the impala as a stand-in for his father and dean calling it his baby.

in season 2, the impala no longer represents john. john is dead, and dean killed him. "home" is no longer centered around john; their father is no longer the thing that connects sam and dean. in devil's trap they chose each other, they chose codependency, they created a relationship between them that transcends the family structure they inherited from john. john is not part of this new relationship—it's just sam and dean now, and john is dead.

dean assimilates to sam's perspective when he rebuilds the impala: his car is now an extension of himself, and he is the home that sam chose. this is now his car, not john's; he is now sam's family, not john. and throughout the first half of season 2 dean struggles with this new responsibility and what that means for him—how their codependency should work, whether or not he should try to fill john's shoes, what "home" is supposed to look like for them without john in it.

Gets brainworms about it. Keeps noticing Cas’s life movements of sliding his fingers down the back of his cell phone before picking it up, licking cream off the stirrer, handling the leather shoulder bag full of case notes that sam hands off to him with care and affection and going crazy thinking about how he might have done all that to the impala. Asks 1 (one) burning question of why several days later at a diner while sam is in the bathroom and then castiel keeps going on about how he goes about it (kissing first, he is Making Love) and how the leather feels and how cared for and safe he feels inside her. It started when he was ‘human’, he came to understand her as a place of safety (and vulnerability) no matter the elements, and he slept in her once and started kissing her and “our relationship progressed from there”

“relationship – wh- she’s just a car!”

“[cas frown] you really think so?”

“I- no, obviously, she’s- urgh, whatever!! Why don’t you do that freaky shit to your own ride?”

“Dean. Be serious,” He sounds like Dean had just compared a supermodel to a slug. Although - knowing Cas’s certified freak status, he might be more into the latter. No amount of hysterical thought jumping can save him from hearing: “While the Lincoln has its strengths, you must agree that Baby far eclipses it in erotic potential. The leather alone-”

“Oh god shut up shut up shut up!”

He sees motion activate several other nights and has to jerk off about it, hard, almost painful in self punishment for getting infected with Cas’s freak shit. Eventually he decides to confront Cas again. Or maybe fuck him. He’s not sure. He gets to the door of the rocking impala, flashlight at the ready, swings it wide and comes across Eileen’s shocked face and naked body, where she’d been rutting into the edge of the seat.

“I can explain,” She says immediately, after Dean claps a hand over his eyes and groans in horror. “Dean, listen, I’m not usually like this, it’s just, the leather…”

“JUST WASH HER OFF AND STOP EXPLAINING.”

Dean declares the next morning that he will be keeping all sets of impala keys on his person from now on. Sam is nonplussed and complains about it: “What the hell? Why? It’s the family car.”

“I don’t know, Sam, maybe someone in this room would like to bring Sam in on what’s been happening in the family car.”

Dean and human!Impala trash talking about car part while Sam is mortified. Because he's Impala-shaped at the moment.

Human!Baby x Dean x Sampala and car part dirty talking? Your mind, mootie, I can't!

---

This can't be happening, this isn't happening. It's a dream, a fucked up, insane dream.

Baby, in her well-fitted leathers and sturdy boots, sprawled on his hood (chest?) while his brother was standing with his soft body braced against his side door (my side), arms folded comfortably and settled on top of his roof (definitely head).

He sensed more than saw that they were gazing at each other, bodies turned towards one another with a magnetic draw Dean had always had for him and well…another something, which was now a someone. And he was now the something.

Weathered fingers ghosted in languid drags across his front window (face), and his undercarriage (abdomen) shivered.

"Baby." Sam growled a warning, the effects of which crackled in his speakers (ugh, throat).

"You look so pretty like this, Sam." She purred, a low timber like whiskey and smoke.

Something liquid, sweet, and tangy heated in his tank (belly). What?

"Baby would know best, Sammy, but I have to agree. Your sleek lines, your grill, your rims. God, I would love to run my tongue along them, taste that metal and summer heat."

"What. The. Fuck. Dean." Sam pulsed out every syllable, his engine (heart, I mean heart) stuttering. "I'm not a car."

"Yes, you are, Sam. You're a car, my Impala, my Baby. In fact, you're our Baby. Right, Baby?"

"Right." Baby replied, a cheerful tease in her voice. "You're a 1967 Chevy Impala, from your chassis to your interior. You have to accept this, Sam, but don't worry, we'll help you, darlin'. I've accepted being a car all my life; I know exactly how to make you feel every bit of what you are." And in that moment, her fingers wrapped around his windshield wipers (uh, no. Ears? My hair?), the thumb dragging against rubber (skin, skin, skin) and tugging a little. Sam felt the needles on his dashboard go wild, but he stubbornly ignored it.

Dean shifted, and all of a sudden, Sam could tell how utterly aroused his brother was, his hard-on catching on his door handle (I don't even know what that represents) as Dean started to grind.

"Feel that, Sammy? Feel how your make and model really gets me going, makes something feral and hot rise in my belly. Goddamn, I want to hump your tires, I need to huff your vinyl seats, paint your steering wheel in my juices, stroke the walls of your trunk until you're revving and begging for release. You should feel every inch of what it means to be my Baby, fuck, just like this." Dean panted, continuing to frot the bulge straining in his jeans against the bevel of Sam's handle and keyhole, sending a million confusing sensations all through Sam's body.

Baby had one of his wipers fully fisted now, jerking it like a dick. He hadn't noticed when dry friction was replaced with slick saliva. "I'm going to rub my hands along your dashboard, lick my way inside your tank to taste inside you, fondle and rub your bumper just like you would an ass, tug on your seatbelts so you can feel the strain of them. I'm going to touch and know you the only way a fellow vehicle can."

Sam felt something pop and crackle inside him, and he willed the dial of his radio to its lowest setting so neither of them could hear the moan he let out at the car-related filth they spewed. The image of fully embracing being the Impala and being helpless to their passion-fueled ministrations didn't seem so bad when they talked like that.

"No one is fucking my tailpipe." Sam declared.

Baby let go of his wiper and slid off his hood, gravel crunching under her boots as she strode to Sam's back end. She patted his bumper with full, thuddy hands. "Trust me, there are plenty of other places to fuck and thrust into that feel just as, if not more, amazing. I intend to teach you boys every one of them."

"Oh fuck, Baby." Dean moaned. "See, Sammy? We gotchu. You should just enjoy the ride."

'Enjoy the ride' indeed. Sam snorted. But he had to admit, as Baby's sturdy hands rubbed his tail lights, fingering the ridges at the edges there, he couldn't wait for her to help him discover all the parts of his new anatomy.

I love that any time they fuck in the Impala it’s actually a threesome.

I love when the boys fondle the vinyl seats or the wheel or the dashboard like it’s foreplay.

I love the idea of them getting heady when they smell her gasoline or vinyl or metal like it’s a sex pheromone.

I love when they see that the gas tank indicator is signaling it’s low, and they actually feel a slight parched feeling in the back of their throat.

I love the light slaps they give her hood when she gets them to their location safe and sound.

I love how when they close her trunk, it’s like slapping her plump ass. And opening her is like spreading her cheeks.

I love when they trace long fingers on the glass of her window when it’s foggy and humid out, like how they would caress a lover.

I love when the print of Sam’s or Dean’s cheek as they lean tired heads against her leaves a ghost mark there.

Like, she is their home, she raised them, Dean was conceived inside her, he has been there with them at every point in their lives, she is their comfort and their witness, he cares for them like a mother and a father as much as a lover, Baby was John’s first and then bestowed to Dean after, she and Sam were joint widowers when Dean died and they grieved together, Dean loves her as much as he loves Sam and Sam recognizes and accepts this as fact.

ok so two things to point out in this:

1.) dean canonically loves baby more than sam loved jess, who he was literally going to propose to…i’m howling

so a while ago i remembered a post on this site wishing we could’ve seen sam and dean inbetween their hunts travelling on the expressways and getting stuck in traffic to see how they’d react

i’m just starting to read the spn novels and in the very first one, we have that. these are just some moments i took pics of but basically: dean does not handle it well at all and keeps swearing at people and hating paying road tolls and big complicated cities while sam is actually even glad to let dean have openings to tease him cos sam wants to distract dean from the road and keep his mind off the traffic ;_;

several other cute/interesting things i noted:

sam is appalled by rotary dial phones lmao what a diva

sam is the one who taught dean how to download ringtones on his phone