Willow (Supernatural fic)

Once a hunter, Always a hunter

Sorry for not updating! :( School just ended so I will be able to update more often, so no worries! I hope you like this chapter, although it's a little short. I'll make sure the next chapter is longer! Hugs- Isabel

'"Damn it! Demons?" Bobby says, turning toward the brothers "You should have told me sooner."

"Why's that?" Dean asks.

Bobby sighs, "Because, you idjit! Demons were what Fredrick hunted best. It was in his blood. His parents hunted demons and his grandparents too."

"But my mom didn't hunt." I put out there awkwardly.

"True, my guess is as good as any, but I'm guessing he wanted a normal life. Most hunters do, but once a hunter, always a hunter." Bobby says.

I frown. He was right and I knew it.

"Now, the real question is, what are we gonna do with ya?" Bobby says, looking at me.

I gulp, not really knowing what to say.

"Well we can't just leave her here, and we can't drag her along either." Sam says, thinking out loud.

"You got any family close to here?" Bobby asks me. I think for a second.

"Yeah, my grandparents, they live ummm." I think for a second. I frown. "Wait, I think it's like a few hour drive or so."

Bobby sighs. "Well, I suppose y'all have to stay here tonight. You can head out in the mornin'." Bobby says. Sam and Dean nod and go and grab some stuff. 

I go up to Bobby, remembering what my dad wrote. trust him like you'd trust me.

"Is there anything I can help with?" I ask Bobby. He smiles at me sadly, but trying to be welcoming. 

"You know how to cook?" He asks me.

I nod. He points to the kitchen. "You wanna go and cook us all some grub?"

"Okay." I say and start walking to the kitchen, I hear Bobby yell back at me. 

"Use whatever you need." He says, then I hear him leave the room.

I walk into the kitchen and sigh. It looked old and as if no one had cooked in it forever. 

I decide to open some cupboards and look in his fridge to see what ingredients he has. 

I cringe. There is old milk and rotten fruit and veggies in the fridge along with some other things that look ripe and good. I throw away the rotten stuff and throw away another pile of things that were expired.

I sigh, this was going to be a lot harder than I originally thought. Luckily, I still remember some simple recipes that my mother had taught me how to cook. When my dad was out late and my mom too tired to cook, I would cook dinner for them.

I start grabbing some dishes and ingredients, remembering the look my parents always gave me when they ate what I cooked. It always brought a smile to my face.