It turns out that I did have a slight concussion but that didn't take long to heal all things consider, it was the best news I've gotten in a long while when I was cleared by some urgent care doctor that I could continue my daily activities as normal. Sam is getting coffee while Dean and I talk with Frank over the phone on speaker just loud enough for the both of us to hear him.
"So Dick's funding an archaeological dig?" Dean starts, "well, unless Dick's actually digging himself, I'm not sure I know what to do with that, Frank. Or that factory in Saudi Arabia, or the fishery in Jakarta. None of this is helping."
"Explain how Western to Southeast Asia is too wide a net. You know, I could be in Tromso right now. Zero Leviathan activity there."
"Where the hell is Tromso?" I ask.
"Norway, dollface," he responds, "by the way, they opened another Biggerson in Butte."
"Yeah, well we're not in Montana," Dean mutters.
I lean against his shoulder worn out from not being able to sleep so he puts his arm around me squeezing lightly; it's worse than before I can't even shut my eyes for a second now.
"So where are you?"
"We're in Oregon."
"Got nothing in Oregon," he mutters and Dean says, "Wisconsin, Frank."
I raise an eyebrow even though he can't see it.
"What about it?"
"The coordinates," he says, "Bobby's coordinates."
Still thinking about dad makes my heart heavy with sadness, Dean and Frank talk more while I watch the small river across from where we sit; Sam should be back with coffee which I need so desperately if I'm going to stay awake long enough to be of any help for our next case if there is one.
"He's a crazy son of a bitch," Dean mutters.
"Frank?" Sam asks appearing on Dean's other side, "you know having a cranky total paranoid as your go-to guy – that's – it's...I don't know what it is."
Sam hands me my coffee and I take two big swigs before realizing that they're watching me.
"What?"
"That's like you're fifth coffee this morning," Dean states, "you're going to crash sooner or later."
"Yeah, well bite me Winchester," I snap, "every time I close my eyes Lucifer is yelling into my head. It's like I let him in once, now I can't get rid of him."
"You know he's not actually," Sam starts but I wave a hand, "I know, but try telling that to the volume control in my head; it's like cranked to 100."
Dean and Sam steal a glance at each other as if I'm not here.
"Did you try the hand thing?" he asks
"Yeah," I admit, "it's not working anymore...but as long as I'm awake I'm good for a case," I eye the paper in Sam's hand, "you got something?"
He hands the paper to his brother who looks it over before passing it to me
"They're saying drugs," Sam explains, "but read between the lines. Sounds like she danced her own feet off; might be our kind of thing."
"Dancers," Dean mutters, "they are toe shoes full of crazy."
"Couldn't agree more," I say, "Black Swan; tutu on tutu action crap."
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Bobby Singer's Daughter - A Supernatural Fan Fiction
FanfictionA strong willed girl brought into this world by Bobby Singer and his wife.
