Mystery Solved
You dusted your hands on your blood stained pants. Not your blood, of course, but apparently a werewolf had been tormenting the next town over and Bobby had sent you to ease the situation. You had pinpointed and killed the wolf all in less than three hours. It really was too easy. Almost like a fool's errand. But Bobby wasn't fooling anyone. He needed you out of the house so he could research and discuss whatever the hell him and Sam were so ticked about. Apparently it was some huge secret he didn't want to worry you with. Well, screw that. You had kept your distance long enough. Your curiosity had finally gotten the better of you and you found yourself standing right next to Bobby's study window, not making a sound.
"I just don't think it'll work, Sam." Silence. Damn, it was a long shot, but you had hoped Bobby would've utilized the concept of speakerphone. But why would the universe reward you with something like that? Hunters weren't known for their luck. Still, knowing he was speaking with Sam was better than nothing. "I don't know boy, the translation is a bit fuzzy. I don't-" Sam had clearly interrupted him. "You think I'm gonna let that happen?!" He was yelling at this point. "I am doing everything I-hello? Sam? Balls!" He practically broke the phone hanging it up. He grabbed his pellet gun and left the room. You figured he was gonna do what he always did when he was pissed and had no further plan of action. He was gonna quote, "shoot some damn squirrels". God have mercy on their souls. Although, it did open a perfect opportunity for you to do a little bit of research yourself.
You heard the screen close to the back door and slipped inside the front. Thank god you had parked down the street, as the tousle between the wolf and you was near your jeep and it needed a serious wash. You made your way through the study silently, careful not to hit any of the creaky floorboards or books. Jesus, those things were better than an alarm system. You finally made your way to the desk where several books were lain open and the computer scanned for translations. You almost felt guilty, sleuthing on Bobby like this. But hey, after that weak-ass hunt he tried to trick you with, he earned it, the son of a bitch. Your resolve was back, that is until you heard a shot and a metal pellet flew passed your face, barely missing your nose. You raised your hands and slowly turned towards the scruffy hunter in the doorway. "You best be online shopping." Sh-.
Hell. Dean Winchester was going to hell. And not by the hands of some big bad monster, oh no. He, of his own free will, made a deal with a demon. You suddenly understood the yelling yesterday and wanted to take a few swings at the older Winchester yourself. Yet, you completely understood his decision. The importance of family is essentially the textbook reason hunters become hunters in the first place. You'd never been this torn before. You suddenly missed the simplicity of three-hour werewolf hunts, briefly, mind you. While you had never dealt with something of this level before, there was some part of you that had been craving it your entire life. Like suddenly that hole of want in your soul had been filled. You looked Bobby in the eye. "What can I do?" You were rewarded with a big-ass book thrown at your face. Yea, you kinda deserved that one.