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── John Winchester had a hunter's funeral. They burned his wrapped body and let the flames engulf what remained of him.
Evangeline wasn't quite fond of the guy but she still felt her heart burn at the idea of him gone. She especially felt bad for Sam and Dean. To lose a parent– on bad terms or good– was a painful thing no matter what.
“You shouldn't go out there” Evangeline hummed to Sam who's hand was already grasping the golden doorknob.
He glanced back at her “I wanna make sure he's okay” he said quietly.
“I know” her voice was softer this time “but I think he just needs some time”. It was true. In the wake of his father's death, Dean Winchester had reasonably become snappy. She didn't blame him, he was grieving and while she wanted to be there for him as much as Sam wanted, she knew he needed time. His snappy remarks everytime anyone asked if he was okay was clear evidence of that.
“I'm just gonna go see” Sam brushed her off, so determined to be there for his brother that he didn't realize he was only pushing him further away.
Evangeline let out a sigh watching the hunter approach his brother from the window.
She brought her attention back to the book in her hand. She read through the pages of ink scribbles and letters with a deep curious interest.
“Raid my stack of books did you”? a voice grumbled pulling her from her reverie.
Evangeline glanced up spotting Bobby. The older man had been kind enough to offer his home to the trio, sympathetic and rather sad about the death of John Winchester; the hunters had remained there for the past two weeks housed up as they planned their next move.
“Yeah…sorry” she added sheepishly, having helped herself to his stack of books and journals. Her curiosity had gotten the best of her, having already read John's journal front to back she was already finding herself craving more information about the supernatural. Anything to take her mind off of the boredom that sat in her chest from the weeks indoors.
Bobby shrugged, sliding in the seat across from her. He carried his gun over carefully taking it apart as she had seen Dean do so often.
Evangeline shifted her eyes back to the book she was reading when another slammed down next in front of her. She peered up at Bobby tilting her head.
“That one was your dad's”.
Her breath hitched in her throat involuntarily and she glanced back down at the leather journal he had set down. It looked similar to John's except more put together, more fragile too, older like it hadn't been touched in years. Dust kissed the top of the smoothe cool faded brown leather.
“Can I?” she gestured to it.
“Don't know why you're asking me” he huffed “it was your daddy's, now it's yours”.
