Lightkeeper /Destiel//Sabriel//Michifer

The Foreignness of Fear

Bobby eased on the brakes as he swung his tattered green 1971 Chevrolet Chevelle off the overly gritted road and into his driveway. In the past half an hour he'd broken several speed limits and jumped two sets of traffic lights. Normally, he wasn't one for reckless driving, especially when the roads were still so slippery, but Sam's phone call had really shaken him.

If what Sam had said was true, and this Benny person was right, then that meant that John Winchester was free to roam about the country. Bobby was almost certain that he knew what John's first order of business would be and he didn't like it one bit.

Pulling up and cutting the engine, Bobby strode away from his car, not even bothering to lock it, and tried the handle of the front door. To his relief, someone must have had the common sense to lock it.

He fished around his jacket pocket for a set of keys and, on finding the right one, thrust it in the lock and let himself in.

The house wasn't much warmer than outside, but it was most certainly darker. All the curtains and shutters had been drawn and the only visible source of light came from a glow underneath the living room doorway. No sound could be heard coming from anywhere inside, leaving only the faint howl of the wind echoing down the wooden hallway. The house gave an overall impression of being almost deserted.

Finding his way through the dimness, Bobby followed the corridor along until he came to the living room door. Carefully, he pushed the door open, giving a brief warning of his arrival before doing so.

At first glance, the room he entered into appeared to be deserted. A faint glow came from the beginnings of a fire, though the logs didn't look as though they were prepared to ignite. The main source of light came from overhead, a soft hue coming from a bulb that was clearly on its way out and in need of changing: not a soul was in sight. The sofa was empty and books had been left lying open on the table opposite, where three mugs of steaming hot chocolate had been recently abandoned.

"Sam," Bobby called, "Get out from behind this door."  He moved further into the room and turned to peer behind the door that he still held open, where Sam was tucked away, holding a large kitchen knife.

"And Elsa, I want you out from down the side of that sofa." Bobby watched as Elsa stood up, emerging from her hiding place, armed with a wooden baseball bat.

"Benny," Bobby looked around for the person Sam had told him about.  "I don't know where y'are, but you better come out here too. I ain't gonna talk to invisible people."

Benny, who had slotted himself in the shadows behind an old bookcase, slowly came forward into view. Like the others, he was armed, only his weapon was far more impressive. In his right hand he held a long double-edged blade that curved in slightly, resembling some sort of giant animal tusk or fang. Its small brown handle looked battered, as though it had been repaired several times already.

Bobby didn't even bother to ask where Benny had gotten the weapon from.

"Right, now I want you three to listen to me very carefully," Bobby eyed them each in turn.  "I know y'ere scared and you got every right to defend yourselves. But this," he motioned around the room, "Ain't necessary. You don't need battle stations and you don't need weapons. Not now at least. Cos yer not soldiers, and this ain't a war. Yer kids and this is your home, not a front line."

Bobby paused and looked between the three of them. "I'm gonna check on Dean," he announced.  "Sam and Elsa, you best put those back," he motioned to the knife and baseball bat still in their hands, "And Benny, I don't know what the hell that is or where you got it from, but I'd appreciate it if you put it away."