Family Ties -- Supernatural

I - secrets

The sunlight was just breaking through the dawn, poking its fingers through the trees that encased the salvage yard. The dirt stirred slightly in the wind but beyond that, not a soul was awake. The house looked miserable as it was surrounded by the empty shells of once lively cars. The shadows of laughter that had once hung in the air were extinguished with the gloom of the night. It was only with the sun starting to crawl its way back up to the surface, breaking through the dullness, reflecting off the scraps of metal that were scattered throughout the dirt, that the quiet was broken.

A piercing noise echoed through the silence, ringing through the darkness, before stopping. There were a few peaceful seconds before it started again. Like an echoing scream, the phone screeched, disrupting the calm. As it rang out again and again, a grumble soon followed it. It was a low voice, weathered with sleep and age. The phone sounded louder, and a groan echoed it, followed by the thumps indicating someone plodding down the stairs. Soon the phone stopped with one final trill and the owner of the grumble spoke up.

“What?!” He asked grumpily, his voice dripping with the evidence of sleep. The voice on the other end of the phone was quiet, as if they were talking in a hushed whisper. It was clear that whatever reason had caused them to interrupt the night was important. The door creaked a little as it opened, but that was expected in a house like this. It was tattered with splinters in the floorboards and holes in the walls, but it was home. The small patter of feet could be heard if you listened carefully enough but they stopped halfway down the stairs as she sat down on one of the middle steps. She could see Bobby talking on the phone in a hushed tone, a serious and concerned look on his face.

It was difficult to tell the different emotions of Bobby Singer based on his facial expression, but Orla had a practised eye. She had been living with him for as long as she could remember and he had become the only constant in her life, as she had become in his. Dean came and went, only visiting every few weeks if he was in the area, but it had been over a year since he last visited. Bobby hung up the phone abruptly, not muttering a goodbye to the person on the other end, and rested his hands on the table. He sighed slightly and Orla could tell he was worried. If he knew she was there, peering at him through the bannister then he wouldn’t allow himself to be this vulnerable. Orla had learned to be silent, she had learned how to fade into the background and let the adults around her continue as if she were not there. It was easier that way, Bobby could get his job done better and she wouldn’t be interfering, just observing. 

After a couple of seconds, Bobby picked himself up and strode from the room, still not seeing Orla watching him. It was only as he paused in the hall to pick up his hat and coat that she alerted him to her presence.

“Bobby?” He turned, startled, before seeing that it was her and immediately relaxing. “What’s going on?” His expression hardened, his jaw tensing slightly.

“Nothing. Everything’s fine. Why don’t you go back to bed?” He reached up and patted her knee through the bannister before turning and walking out of the door. The walls rattled slightly as the sound ricocheted through the house. This was the way it was. It would always be Orla and Bobby, sometimes it was Orla, Bobby, and Dean (these were her favourite times), but then they both left and it was just Orla. She told herself that she didn’t mind, she couldn’t mind, what they did was too important. So, she wandered slowly back into her bedroom, and tucked herself under the covers. But she wouldn’t get any sleep, she would stare at the sunlight fracturing the horizon until Bobby or Dean returned.

- 

It was well into the morning when Bobby finally came back, the signature rumble of his truck's engine evident against the silence that had enveloped the salvage yard since he had been gone. Orla was properly awake now, and she had been looking out of the window for the past hour, slowly getting through the drab cereal that she had made. As soon as she spotted the truck she was running to the door, ready to meet him. It was only once she had breached the outside air that the truck turned and she saw what it was towing.