Chapter Text
The tires on the black Chevrolet Impala slid on the bends as Dean took them sharply. The rain was beating down, soaking the car, the road and everything in between. It was dark and the road was quiet, but the car struggled on the wet roads.
“Maybe we should pull in for the night?” Sam suggested as Dean took another slippery bend, the cars back end jutting out as he fought to keep her on the road.
They’d just finished a hunt in Sioux Falls as it begun to rain and Dean knew the rain would be in for the night.
“Alright,” he answered. “We’re near to Bobby’s place anyway, I’m sure he won’t mind us crashing on his couch.”
Sam gave a nod of agreement and let Dean go back to concentrating on driving as he navigated his way to Bobby’s place. He drove through the salvage yard and up to where Bobby lived in the house in the yard. A light was on inside, emitting a warm glow and the siblings raced from the car, grabbing their things on the way before rushing onto the dry porch as they turned and looked at the rainfall behind them.
“Gonna be a bad storm,” Dean observed watching the rain bounce on the roof of his beloved Impala.
“Least it’s warm and dry here,” Sam said, turning to knock on the door.
----------------
From inside Bobby had seen the set of headlights illuminate the Singer Salvage Yard sign outside. He glanced to the side of him where a body was working quietly at the desk, unbeknown that anyone was even calling at the house.
Bobby looked at the time – 8:45pm. Who would be calling at this time of night? A knock came at the door and Bobby pulled himself out of his chair and away from the show he’d been watching. He looked over once more at the body sat at the desk; they still hadn’t stirred from their work, he guessed they were deep into something .
With a half shrug and a sigh, Bobby made for the front door and was pleasantly surprised to see the Winchesters, albeit damp, looking back at him.
“What are you boys doing here?” he asked, standing in the doorway.
“Got caught in the storm,” Sam answered with his brow knitting together; why wasn’t Bobby letting them straight in? “Something wrong?”
“No,” he shook his head. “I just have a guest is all.”
“Bad time?” Dean gave a smirk and raised one eyebrow.
“Ain’t that kinda guest,” Bobby turned to him with a raised brow. “Come on in.”
The boys shuffled one another through the door into the hall and glanced around. Sam’s eyes fell over the side table stacked high with books and Dean looked at the old rickety staircase as he pulled his wet jacket off and hung it from the banister. Bobby peered back into the living space to check on his guest. They were still working quietly, they never got too involved in what was going on in his world.
“So?” Dean queried. “What’s with the secret service greeting?”
Even Sam had to agree, Bobby was not behaving like Bobby usually would when they arrived.
“I told you,” he answered. “I got a guest.”
The brothers shared a suspicious glance and looked back to Bobby before both crossing their arms.
“I didn’t know you were coming,” Bobby said, sinking his hands into his pockets with his voice low. “I ain’t sure you’re gonna like my guest.”
“If you don’t tell us who it is we’re just gonna go find out,” Dean answered him, uncrossing his arms.
“After you,” Bobby cast his hand to the living are and shrugged one shoulder. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”