Andrea Sanders, legendary hunter, is the kind of legend that only the brave and stupid dare to whisper about at night. After ditching the foster system at sixteen, she follows her father's footsteps into the only life she's ever known: hunting down...
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"What's wrong with Cass?" I watched Dean hang up the phone as I walked into Bobby's house from the beer run the old man had sent me on. The pack of Bud Light dangled from my hand as I eyed the group of men huddled near the kitchen.
Shoving his phone into his pocket, Dean tried not to look at me. "Apparently, in his words, he's 'out of juice.' Landed himself in some hospital and he needs a plane ticket back."
I nodded, setting the case down on the counter before I began passing them out. "Well that's a new one. Did y'all figure out where Pestilence is?"
Sam nodded. "We got a location. Bout to head out." He seemed to be walking on eggshells; every once in a while he would throw a glance toward his older brother as if he feared he'd said the wrong thing. I could only assume he'd told Dean about his 'plan'.
"Andy's going with ya." Bobby stated, popping the top off of his bottle with the arm of his wheelchair.
"I am?"
"She is?" For the first time since I'd walked in, Dean looked at me. His eyes mirrored mine. Neither of us was very keen to discuss the things we needed to.
"You are." The tone was stern and no nonsense: one I knew well. It was the same tone he'd take when I would beg him to adopt me, and the same one he'd use when I'd try to go hunting before I turned 16. There was no arguing with him like this.
I crossed my arms over my chest with my lips pressed into a thin line. "Fine. I'll go grab my stuff from the house."
"Dean, go with her."
Sparky scoffed. "Bobby, I think she can pack a T-shirt just fine by herself."
The scruffy man readjusted his hat as he eyed us. "Sam and I are gonna talk. Drive's only 4 hours from here. He'll meet you there tomorrow morning."
There was more confusion in the air than when drug addicts accidentally show up to a Coca-Cola convention. "I will?" Sam questioned, earning him his own harsh look from Bobby. "I will."
"No! Bobby, what the hell-?" Dean started, but he was quickly waved off.
"Go on, ya idgits. Get outta here."
Though I was just as confused as Dean, I grabbed my keys while Dean passed his over. Before dropping them into Sam's outstretched hand, Dean pulled back. He held his brother's gaze in a way that was almost menacing. "You call me when you leave, understood?" Once the overly large man nodded, Dean seemed satisfied enough to hand over the keys. "Not a scratch, Sammy."
The door banged shut behind us as we made our way outside, but not before I heard Bobby mutter something about us thanking him later. That's when it clicked. That jackass was forcing Dean and I to makeup! Well, not if I had anything to say about it.
