She had been defeated.
Esme Winchester, formerly Sanders, stood at the door to Bobby Singer's house, her shoulders slumped, hair one big grease ball, and a solemn look on her face.
The fact that Bobby did not look surprised at the sudden appearance of the twenty year old made Esme realise he had been informed of her quick departure.
You see, Esme had been bought up by Dean and Sam Winchester. Hunters, and good at it.
The boys had found her begging on the street after her family had been murdered by a bunch of vampires. While they had slaughtered her family, they had been oh so generous to keep her alive, sarcasm intended.
Any other family she knew of had died or disappeared, leaving Esme to fend for herself. That was ten years ago. After two years of living on the streets, the Winchesters found her.
Now, eight years on, she was practically there little sister.
Right now though, she wished they'd just left her there.
The agony that coursed through her veins from the loss was too much, and the brave face she tried to put on for Bobby came crumbling down as she collapsed into his arms.
Her body shook with the sobs that came out violently from her mouth, Bobby's comforting words being lost in the banshee like wails.
Still, Bobby held her for hours, his hands running through her dirty, brunette hair, pulling it free from the confines of the band that held it in a low pony tail.
Although it hurt Bobby to see the poor girl in such a state, he held himself together. The once strongest young woman he had known had now crumbled.
It felt like an eternity before Esme settled, her crying wearing her out and helping her drift to sleep.
As soon as Bobby heard the soft snores come from the small woman, he grabbed his phone.
"Yeah. Yeah, she's here. She's in a hell of a state." Bobby whispered down the phone.
"This, Bobby." Dean Winchester, who always had the perfect response, who was quick tongued, was now unsure what to say or do. "I don't know how to handle this."
Bobby could hear the kid he watched grow up losing it himself. "I know what to do. Just, trust me." With a quick goodbye, Bobby put the phone down on Dean, turning to the ancient computer that sat in the corner, ready to do his own research.
The next morning, Esme woke, her head pounding.
"Bobby?" Her voice echoed around the halls, and she winced at how soar her throat felt. She hadn't cried like that in a while. Not since her family.
"In here kiddo." Esme wandered into the study, her feet making a soft patting noise on the wooden flooring.
"What are you doing?" Bobby had his duffle bag open and a small suitcase packed in the corner. In his hands, a rifle was being cleaned.
"We are going on a hunt." Bobby stated, his eyes meeting her blue ones.
Esme looked at her hands. "I don't think I'm ready."
Bobby sighed, pointing at the seat opposite, his eyes following as she sat.
"I know it's tough kid. But people need us. With Dean out of commission, it's up to us." Esme knew he was right. Reluctantly, she nodded. "It'll get your mind clear. I know a hunt always makes you happy."
Esme cracked the tiniest of smiles at Bobby, the first since the incident.
"Where to this time then?"
"Beacon Hills. California."
A/N So, this is only the sort of prologue of this story. I've got a lot of ideas, so I'm hoping you all like it!