Bobby Singer's Daughter - A Supernatural Fan Fiction

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-three - Of course it's Leviathans

Turns out there were several things that were set loose on unknowing buyers; a kettle, gramophone and a vintage gentleman's magazine after the shoes had been secured in its casing again. We split up to take on the objects, Sam warning me to be extra careful since the shoes were having some effect on me before I wave him off to assure him I'll be fine. They drop me off at the address for the kettle but once I step inside the smell of burning flesh and gas makes me run for the kitchen; I was too late. The woman's face has blisters along with her lips and possibly the inside of her too if that thing made her chug straight from it boiling hot; grabbing a few tea towels I cover the damn thing and pick it up one handed then call the police.

"I'd like to report an accident," I say quickly, "23 Gorham Road."

I then shut my phone off shoving it into my pocket before the operator could ask me anything more; I should have had them leave one of the boxes with me instead of looking like a criminal carrying a large tea kettle covered in towels. I find the car parked in front of the house and Sam coming out a wooden boxed securely in his hands he eyes the tea kettle wrapped up in my arms and rushes to the car and opens the box so I can deposit it within.

"I was too late," I murmur to him, "the woman, burned to death drinking the hot water but I called 911 for her."

"We can't save everyone, Lennie."

"I know just wish we could."

Just then Dean comes down the street a smaller box in hand, "got it just in time! Well sort of you don't want to know what he was doing."

Once everything is sealed shut in their boxes we head back to the antique shop and lock them up in Scott's mother's safe.

"So my mom wasn't some whack job, all this stuff is real?"

"Yep," Dean pops the p with his lips.

"Man, I feel awful," he mutters rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, "I kept pushing her to sell the store. She kept saying no, and I kept pushing her, you know. Telling her how much money she'd make."

I look from Dean to Sam.

"Do you think you changed her mind?" Dean asks.

"I don't know. You know, this real estate lady kept coming around and then one day, just like that, mom says okay. Then she had that accident, never even got to enjoy the money."

I tell Dean and Sam I'm heading out to get fresh air; the weariness is beginning to gnaw on me and I take the car with his permission. Driving out into the countryside of town I let the windows down and let the wind ruffle my hair as I blast some rock station that I'm not really paying attention to. After a while of this the darkness has settled in outside and I'm headed back into town when my eyes grow heavier and heavier by the minute, I almost overshoot a bend and end up in a ditch; I slap my face a few times which helps for a good five minutes before my eyes shut for a long while on a straight away when I'm awoken by a loud truck horn and I jerk the wheel quickly back into my lane breathing heavily.

There's a small coffee trailer just inside town and I stop to get something to keep myself awake, I stand in line for quite a while; the guy in front of me argues with the barista about the extra pump but then gets too annoyed especially with those behind him along with myself grumbling in annoyance and he storms off a few feet from the trailer.

"What can I get you?"

"A t-triple red-eye please," I mutter and he stares at me, "it's your funeral."

I pay for the drink with cash, take a sip and head back to the car feeling the caffeine work it's magic as I head back to the shop where Dean said to meet earlier; something was off, but I didn't know what. Going inside I find Sam and Dean at a table near the large front window to my right and sit in the vacant seat next to Dean.