Bobby Singer's Daughter - A Supernatural Fan Fiction

Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Three - What is Happening to me?

"Hello mother," the voice is so familiar and warm, "I know I shouldn't be doing this, but I had to see you."

"Who are you?" I ask turning here and there, "please show yourself."

A young woman whom I seem to recognize appears with dark hair and bright emerald green eyes which stare back at me.

"What don't recognize your own flesh and blood, mom?"

"Cassie?" I ask feeling my lips turn up into a smile, "my God do I miss you."

"I miss you too," she smiles back, "how's dad?"

"Keeping on," I say, "you know him, well sort of I think."

She laughs the sound so sweet and innocent; I can feel my heart breaking all over again because I lost her so soon in life.

"Just because you can't see me doesn't mean I don't see either of you, or Bam," that makes me smile even more, "you seem a little old now to be calling Sam that." She shrugs, "I could tell how much he liked it, besides neither you nor dad corrected me on it."

"True, true," I feel my expression turn serious then, "so what's with the social call?"

"Naomi will have my wings," she mutters and I frown slightly, "but I had to see you, to know that you're okay even though you won't remember."

"Then let me remember," I beg, "your father would kill to know that you're well...an Angel already. He'd give anything to know that you're okay."

"I know," she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, "I visit him in his dreams, he seems to like that. Even if he thinks it's a dream, it's real enough for the both of us."

Before I can get anymore words out there's a loud rumbling, followed by lighting flashing across the dark fielded sky. How long have I been here? Am I slouched in bed sleeping or did I physically disappear? I hear my name at my back, but I turn to my daughter panic written in her own eyes. She flicks her hand at me and I disappear into a dark tunnel my name becoming more clearer as I feel my self being jostled around and around.

-----

Someone has a firm grip on my shoulder, and I gasp aloud punching at whatever has a hold of me, someone yells ow and backs away releasing me from their hold.

"Jesus Melanie," Dean mutters, "watch where you swing!"

"Don't you know not to wake someone like that!" I shout at him and wipe the sleep from my eyes, "what did you find out?"

"Fred Jones," he says, "he used to be a friend of our dad's. He's psychokinetic."

"So, he's the cause of the cartoonish action?"

"Seems that way, but he's not capable of committing any crime."

Sam nor Castiel are anywhere to be found, the bathroom door is hanging open so Sam must have gone out for something.

"Where's Cass?"

"Guard duty," Dean answers, "watching over Fred, he's going to call if anything happens."

"You mean anything cartoonish?" He nods, "sorry about hitting you."

He laughs a little, "it's alright, you were so out of it I was afraid something happened while we were gone," his eyes turn to me, "what were you dreaming about?"

"I-I uh," my brain goes around and around trying to remember, "I don't know, it wasn't anything bad at least I don't think it was."

"Hmm," his eyes are curious, "if you remember you'd tell me, right?"

"Of course," I murmur with sincerity, "you know I would."

As if on cue something pricks at my mind and I wince rubbing at my temple, the feeling comes again, and I grab Dean's hand squeezing it hard.

"Lennie?" He asks, "what's going on?"

'Something is," I breathe, "something is like piercing my head at least it feels like it."

His hands prob over me then a voice comes through loud and clear but only in my head. Get Sam and Dean back to the retirement home.

The pain is gone and I relay the message even though they both have working phones, but he says he'll tell him not to do it again because it causes me so much pain. The room is spinning a little as I go to follow after him, but he gently takes me back to the bed and sits me down, kisses my forehead then heads out to grab his brother and meet with Castiel again. I stay knees tucked up under my chin, my head is pounding after Castiel reached out to me; why had he done that? He's never tried to talk to me that way before. It hurt more than being dissected by Dick Roman; well except for the acid part that was brutal, after a while Dean calls me with the info that it's one of the nursing home doctor's that is taking their friend, Fred Jones and using his psychokinetic mind to break into houses and banks of the patients from the home he's working at.

Knowing that the three are probably having this case handled I start to pack our things, grab clothes from the bathroom and stuffing the bags to the brim almost to the point of breaking zippers; sighing heavily I set them up on the motel table and stare out the half-closed curtained window wondering what I should do now. Obviously having Castiel around makes it a little awkward as far as interviewing suspects and witnesses go; having four people on a case is a bit overwhelming to the people we interview. Humming to myself I reach for the TV remote to drown out the quiet when a loud squealing erupts through my head, and I clutch at it with a firm grip; at first, it's nothing but static then all I can hear is someone screaming. Another voice, a feminine one dips into my head with instructions, so I do as I'm told and leave notes for the guys for when they get back here, hopefully it won't be long that we'll separated but I'm needed right now. I toss the strap of my duffel across my body, tuck an angel blade from Dean's bag into the inside of my jacket and take off into the evening light; I'd have stuck around to wait for the guys to return, but I knew I couldn't disobey the voice in my head to not help the screaming Angel, hopefully I won't be too late.

Over the next two weeks maybe more I've hitchhiked and traveled across the country trying to locate the damn Angel that'd been calling out in distress, but whatever he'd used to reach out is silent now. As I'm walking down a sidewalk in broad daylight, I feel a pain in my head but not like before then my vision clouds over.

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NEXT CHAPTER TEASER

"He's been missing, and now we know – Crowley has him."

"I heard his distress call this morning."

"Here," I tear the page out, "mean anything to you?"

"Not according to Cass," Sam snaps back.