Who are you? · Y/n story by @houserulessammy

The Sioux Falls air hung thick with the scent of old books and whiskey. Bobby Singer’s living room was a war room now—maps spread across every surface, string connecting photographs, empty coffee mugs forming a defensive line around a laptop.

Dean Winchester

rubbing his temples I’m telling you, Sam, we’ve been over this map six times. There’s nothing.

Sam Winchester

leaning back, frustrated There has to be something we’re missing. The pattern’s there, I know it.

Bobby Singer

standing by the window, cell phone pressed to his ear Yeah, I know it’s short notice... No, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important... Alright, sweetheart. See you soon.

He hung up, a rare softness in his weathered face as he turned back to the brothers.

Dean Winchester

Who was that?

Bobby Singer

pocketing the phone, gruff An old friend’s kid. She’s good at... waves a hand vaguely seeing things we can’t.

The screen door creaked open before anyone could ask more. Footsteps on the porch. A knock—two short, one long.