Song Remains the Same

Chapter 65: Calling All Angels

"I need a hand to help build up some kind of hope inside of me."
- Train

Bobby Singer reclined in the study with a book as the hour approached seven in the evening. He glanced up skeptically as Alex banged around in the kitchen for what was the third or fourth hour now. Lord don't let her burn the place down. It smelled suspiciously good in the house (only the faintest smell of burnt things was present which was a new one)... but Bobby was hesitant to believe it actually was good after a couple months of trying the barely-edible things Alex had cobbled together. The girl was a pretty hopeless cook, but Bobby had just sucked it up and tried everything she made, supporting her strange and sudden interest in cooking. He even gave her one of Karen's pretty old gingham aprons when he realized she was serious. She was wearing the apron right now over her usual jeans and flannel and Bobby smiled, bittersweet. He sure did love that girl.

Yesterday she'd run into the house and looked like a kid on Christmas morning as she announced that her brothers were coming back and she needed to make things and go to the store to get stuff they liked—she'd been practically giddy and Bobby was pretty sure she hadn't slept at all last night. He didn't know she ever got that excited and it was sorta odd, to be honest. She was usually one to project an inscrutable exterior, she was usually cautious to trust or be enthusiastic about anything. Bobby understood that. He was cut from the same cloth after all... coming from a life of disappointments and pains just did that to a person, making them inclined to take everything with a pound of salt. Well. This was a whole new ball of yarn, Alex bustling around the house like a mother hen in preparation for her brothers' homecoming. There was an uncharacteristic spring in her step and a palatable anticipation as she constantly glanced at the clock and chewed her lip in between her other moments of all-out destroying the kitchen.

The place was a mess—pots and pans and mixing bowls everywhere, flour exploded onto the counter and down the side of a cabinet, apple peelings in a pile, used measuring cups and spoons haphazardly scattered on every available surface. An empty box of chopped frozen spinach was next to a container of sour cream with a spoon in it, mayonnaise was knocked onto its side and oozing out beside the stove, a jar that used to have artichoke hearts in it was now the soaking spot for used spatulas and spoons. For the past few hours Alex had been stressing herself out over making her brothers' favorite treats—apple pie (Dean) and spinach artichoke dip with some sorta froofy pita bread things (Sam). There were a lot of frustrated sounds and muttered swear words as Alex kept having to look up the terms in the cookbook she was using and get detailed instructions about what certain terms meant. It looked like she was finally reaching a stopping point though after her hours of labor. The pie was on top of the stove and cooling (it was lopsided and half the crust was burned on one side) and she bent to pull the dip out of the oven then muttered something cranky at it that ended in "you son of a bitch," before she set it down loudly next to the pie and turned the oven off. She stood back, dusted off her hands, and observed the mess she'd made. She made a tired, deflated sound like whew.

Red-faced, she turned around to look at Bobby. Her hair was in a thoughtless ponytail and frazzled wisps stuck out all around her hairline, flour and pieces of all kinds of food splattered her apron. "Holy shit cooking is hard," she said, rubbing her forehead with the heel of her hand. "How do people do this every single day? I'm exhausted." Just after she said that, like a squirrel, she suddenly went prone and tall as if she heard something—a smile suddenly popped onto her face and made her look young and childlike—and she tore out of the house without further ado. What, were the boys here or something?

Bobby looked out the window to see what she'd heard with those spry young ears of hers—sure enough, there was the Impala rolling to a stop and two familiar boys within. Dean was already getting out of the car and his face cracked a huge grin at the sight of his sister and it was the kind of smile that was Bobby hadn't seen on that face in a long, long time. Alex ran to her oldest brother and jumped on him, knocking him back a little as she locked arms around his neck. He lifted her off the ground into a tight bear hug and spin them around once, laughing. Bobby smiled to himself. It did him good to see them like that. The second the siblings drew apart, Alex punched her brother in the shoulder jokingly then ducked his attempt to ruffle her hair. She appeared to chide him playfully with a wagging finger and he made an innocent face, holding his hands up as if he were telling her something wasn't his fault. He indicated her apron with a mystified, amused expression then asked her something. She smacked him in the chest, scolding him through a grin and he smiled bigger. She hugged him again, this time with her arms around his middle, head tucked under his chin. He kissed the top of her head, patting her back and ruffling her hair for real that time when they pulled apart, messing it up good on top and then obviously enjoyed the way she batted him away.