Bobby Singer's Daughter - A Supernatural Fan Fiction

Chapter One - Melanie Singer

My fingers drum over the locked screen of my phone debating on if I should give the old man a call, it's been a long time since he's seen me and vice versa; earthquakes and freak storms showed up out of nowhere the past few weeks and the demon I got hostage won't shut up about his father. His cackling is driving me insane, so I finally decide to unlock my phone and press the speed dial button hoping to drown out the stupid demon's laugh.

"Hey kid," he greets after a few rings, "it's been a long time."

"Hey," I breathe, "so uh I have this demon under my thumb, he's going on and on about his father; what the hell's going on?"

The old man sighs loudly on the other end, "Lucifer's out of his box," he tells me, "looks like the end of the world is nigh, kid."

"So what are we supposed to do? Just sit around with our thumbs up our asses?"

"Do what we do best," he says, "kill as many sons of bitches as we can."

There's rumbling on his end as if he's driving a certain vehicle, I chew on my lip then say, "can you pick me up? You're obviously headed somewhere and if this is the end of days I don't want to be stuck in this alone."

"Send me your location; I'll be there as fast as I can."

"See you in a few old man."

He grunts in response and hangs up; I send a quick text with my location then tuck it into my back pocket I head back into the dimly lit room where the demon is tied down to a chair under a perfect Devil's Trap.

"You can't hold me here forever," he hisses grinning, "I will get out and eat your insides!"

"Shut up," I growl tossing Holy water in his face, "now tell me, how did your father escape the crazy box?"

"Why should I tell you? It won't matter anymore, he's free and now it'll begin the end of days for you meat suits!"

More splashing of Holy water ensues along with drowning him in salt for a good while, after he's coughed up what could count as one of his lungs he finally relents.

"Alright alright," he grunts spitting salt and blood on the floor, "I'll tell you what I know."

"Took you long enough."

He spits again, the floor has spots of red and white stains from the torture, "Winchesters," he lets out in a sigh, "they've released our father as it's been foretold."

"Balls," I mutter then hear the familiar purr of a certain car, "Melanie!!" my dad shouts leaving the engine run.

"In here!" I holler back, "I'll be sending you back to your favorite place." I tell the demon as my father appears.

"If it isn't Bobby Singer," the demon purrs, "long time no see, although I doubt you're real happy to see any of my kind."

I watch as my father performs the exorcism on the demon, it seems a little different than the normal exorcism, but I don't really pay it no mind, while he's sending it back to Hell, I start to gather everything up I had used on him; however the body was already dead so there's no point trying to rush it to the hospital to save the poor human soul. I start packing my things into the large green duffel that was lent to me a long time ago; it's quiet between the two of us however I finally break the silence.

"So," I start, "the boys don't know when to avert from danger, do they?"

"What do you mean?"

"Dad," I sigh, "the demon told me the Winchesters let the Devil out of the box; you can't tell me that isn't true."

"You know demons lie," I roll my eyes; "however he wasn't lying about that."

"And somehow you got dragged into the shit storm?"

"Lennie, it's not like that and you know it," I cut him off, "yeah, yeah. John was never there for them and you felt obligated to look after them, I get it. When mom died I couldn't bear it so I left and you took on the role of dad again to those two boys."

"If memory serves," he smiles, "you seem to have had a fondness for one of those boys."

"It doesn't matter," I mutter, "he doesn't see me that way anymore; plus it's been how long since I've actually seen the guy? I've been abroad and all over fighting evil because it attacked my family and I'm sorry; I left you behind to grieve mother's death."

"Lennie, it's okay I never held that against you," he puts a firm hand on my shoulder, "you've been back for a while now, let's go kick this in the ass then we can discuss you coming home permanently."

He smiles at me then as we walk out to the Impala sitting against the curb, engine purring like its brand new; I toss my things in the backseat as my old man climbs in the driver's seat while I sit next to him up front. The ride is pretty quiet, we avoid talking about mom, he tells me what the boys have been up to and that John died saving his son's life; the next thing he tells me though has my mouth hanging open from shock.

"Dean went to Hell? Like fire and brimstone Hell?" He nods, "how does someone come back from something like that? I mean I know I sure as hell wouldn't survive it, he's got some balls I'll give him that much."

"He was brought back," he tells me, "an Angel saved his ass from the frying pan but not before Dean started torturing souls to save himself from the torture."

"Dad, come on I can believe in Demons and any other Hellians, but Angels seriously?"

"It's true, kid," he says without a hint of sarcasm or mirth.

We drive in silence for a while, I chew on my lip nervous and unsure of what's to come next; I've missed out on a lot of things here really big things it seems and now I'm going to see him again shortly. What do I even say? Will he be angry with me for leaving my dad? Hell does he still have feelings for me, let alone remember who I am? I switch from chewing on my lip to my thumb nail biting the skin a little bit instead of the nail, "you're gonna chew your thumb off if you keep that up," my father comments, "and if I remember correctly, you'd only do that when you were worried or stressed about something." I put my hand down resting it on my thigh, "I'm not nervous about anything," my voice is dry, "just worried about the end of the world happening here."

He doesn't even try to hide his smile as we travel down the road pushing the limit more than he should; he's lucky that it's a pretty empty road or we'd be screwed seven ways from Sunday.

-----

TEASER

"Lennie," he breathes, "it's been a long time."

"That's Michael, " he tells us, "toughest son of a bitch they got."

"Maybe Dean and I shouldn't have tried so hard to save him in the first place."