Dean threw Sam a surprised look, "Well you gonna answer it or not?"

"We both know Bobby's dead Dean, who could it be?"

He rolled his eyes, "I know Bobby's dead, Sam. But pick it up would you, maybe he told someone about us and they need somethin'."

Knowing that his brother was right, Sam shifted in his seat and answered the call. He cleared his throat, "Hello?"

"Winchester?" A girls voice asked back.

"Uh, yeah. Who is this?" Sam glanced at Dean who was eying him suspiciously.

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. "How'd you know Bobby?"

Sam scrunched up his face, starting to get irritated with the lack of answers. "Look I'm not inclined to answer questions to someone I don't know. So either tell us who you are or call someone else in Bobby's book."

The girl sniffed, debating her options. "I'll be honest with you Winchester, it's not you I'm trying to get a hold of but I'll meet you half way. My name is Sherilyn and I'm looking for Rufus Turner, you know where he is?"

Sam let his mouth hang open a little, just long enough for Dean to get frustrated from the silence and slap him in the chest from the driver seat. "Dude," he hissed wanting to know more information.

"I – uh," Sam tried to snap himself out of it, he figured Bobby and especially Rufus were closed books at this point. "I'm sorry, Rufus?" He repeated, "how-," he tried to find the right things to say. "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this but Rufus passed away before Bobby did."

There was a long exhale on the other side of the phone, "shit," Sherilyn mumbled. "Helen dead too?"

"Helen?" Sam looked at Dean who was fed up with not knowing what was going on.

He grabbed the phone away from Sam and put it to his ear, "Who is this and why you askin' about dead people?"

"God dammit, she's dead too?" Sherilyn didn't care about the switch in speakers. "Alright, well it looks like you ijits are my best bet." The last line was more of a personal commentary, but Dean seemed surprised by her choice in words. "You know where Bobby's place is?"

"Of course we do!" Dean slammed on the breaks and turned the car around to go back towards the last exit already knowing where this was heading.

"I'll see you in a bit then." Sherilyn hung up the phone and threw it on the couch moments before she fell on to it too. A sigh escaped her lips, giving her a moment to figure out what there was to do next. With one foot propped up on the arm rest and the other on the floor, Sherilyn closed her eyes and began to make a mental list.

She'd need to clean up this house if she planned on staying here for more than a few days. Food had to be bought, laundry needed to be done, there had to be a car that still worked somewhere in this lot and it probably needed gas, she should shower, books were begging to be organized, if this world's Bobby had a artifact chest then it probably should be redone, and if he didn't have one, she would need to buy one, then there were the mice in the walls…

Before long Sherilyn had dosed off and Bobby's house fell to a standstill with all the lights on. Everything in and around Bobby's house was safe, so to speak, because everything that wanted to cause it harm had assumed the Winchester brothers had already ransacked it or burned it down so there was no point to stopping by and the good things in this world had assumed the same. So, to a lot of people, creatures, and demons, Bobby's house and all of it's little lost treasures hidden inside just weren't on the radar anymore.

Around 4 in the morning a 1967 black Chevy Impala pulled up the long dirt road leading to Bobby's house. It was a little nostalgic for them seeing everything exactly the way it had been left, with the addition of a few new weeds and rust spots. Not knowing what to expect, the brothers drew their guns and Dean fished out a key from the glove compartment. They went around back instead of the front and entered through the same side door that Sherilyn had. Dean unlocked the door and let it swing open disrupting the fresh line of salt on the floor.

Sam noticed it and nudged his brother. They both acknowledged it and ruled out the possibility of dealing with a demon.

Dean went first. Knees bent, shoulders hunched, both hands on his gun. Sam followed in the same stance, but there seemed to be nothing lurking in the shadows – because there were no shadows. Sam relaxed and stood up straight when he acknowledged all of the lights had been turned on, the power was running, and hearing the familiar drip of the leaky kitchen sink meant the water was running too. Sam scanned the house and was surprised that their new acquaintance was out in the open. "Dean," he whispered, his brother still locked and loaded for a fight.

Dean looked to his brother quickly and followed his line of site.

Curled up on the couch was a girl. Mid-twenties, maybe, it was hard to tell since her face was buried in the cushions. Quietly they walked forward. Sam saw her pistol on the couch side table. He grabbed it to take out the magazine and shove it in his back pocket. Dean noticed the old family photo of him, Sam, Cas, Helen, Jo, and Bobby on the coffee table.

"Who do you think she is?" Dean asked in a hushed tone, feeling relaxed enough to push the safety on his gun and let it drop.

Sam shrugged, "she asked about Rufus and Helen, which means she's probably been out of the loop for a while."

"Loop?" he squinted, "this kid couldn't have been older than five when they died. How'd she know them?"

"I don't know, Dean, wake her up." Sam did the same and let his gun fall to his side.

Dean didn't want to be the one to touch her, he was always so hesitant about things making sudden movements right in front of him. She could be awake and have another gun ready to go in her hand. He reached out with one arm completely extended and nudged her back with the barrel of his handgun. Sherilyn didn't stir so he did it again.

The second nudge didn't register either, which begged the question -, "she dead?" Sam asked.

Dean pursed his lips, this time reaching out with an open hand and grabbing on to her shoulder. He tugged hard and began to roll her over. As Sherilyn moved she woke up and lurched forward to try and defend herself in a daze which resulted in her falling nose first into the hardwood floor.

"Gah!" She shouted in surprise, grabbing her nose in the process before the blood could begin to flow. "What the hell?" Sherilyn looked up to see an older version of the man in the photograph with one hand on a loaded gun and another out in front, fingers spread wide to try and help. She slapped him away and got up on her own. "Dick."

Sherilyn moved for the kitchen where she had seen some dirty towels earlier only to see a second older version of a man from the photograph. She stopped for a moment to eye him wearily and then angled around him to the kitchen. The dirty dish cloth was more than dirty, it was disgusting, but Sherilyn pressed it up against he nose anyways and turned to face her new guests. "You the Winchesters, then?"

They looked to each other than back at her, "I'm Sam, this is my brother Dean." Dean nodded to Sherilyn after his introduction.

"Sherilyn Singer," She introduced herself through a clogged nose.

"Singer?" Sam clarified.

"That's right," she took the towel off her nose to see the amount of blood, then placed it back on. "But I really don't have time to give you a family tree run-down, boys. Before we start chatting I need you two to touch some silver and down a swig of Holy Water."

Being called a 'boys' and the hearing the familiar to-the-point way of speaking made it feel like Bobby was here somewhere. "Silver and Holy Water?" Dean cracked a smile at the small levels of verification they have forgotten or ignored over the years. Bringing it up reminded him up simpler times. "Alright bring it on." He placed his gun on the kitchen counter.

Sherilyn was already digging through her backpack on the counter and took out a small flask and small silver dagger. She threw Dean the flask and Sam the dagger, which earned her a disapproving panicked expression from Sam as he moved his hand out of the way of the dagger and let it wedge itself blade first into the hard wood floor. Dean chuckled and took a shot of the flask. Sam picked it up, waived it in his hand and pressed it up against his forearm then handed it to Dean who gave him the flask. They placed the two items on the kitchen table and tried to take over the conversation.

"If you're related to Bobby how come we've never heard of you?"

"If I'm related to Bobby how come I've never heard of you?" Sherilyn repeated the question back, dabbing her nose with the cloth. "It's a long story, boys, one you probably won't understand and something I really don't want to spend time on. I need Rufus and if not Rufus then I need Helen, but according to you, both of them are dead."

She let the sentence hang in the air and waited patiently for one of them to pick it up.

"Yeah, well, they've been dead a long time now." Dean started, "they were good people so show them some respect when talking about them -,"

"I have nothing but respect for them," Sherilyn cut in. "Rufus raised me, Helen was like a mom. How and when did they die?"

The brothers stood confused in their spots. How could someone have been so close to all three of these people and they never know about it? Dean cleared his throat, "Helen died with her daughter in a blast when demons were trying to take over a few years ago and technically Bobby stabbed Rufus when a bug was in his brain playing puppet show."

Sherilyn dropped her gaze and placed the bloody towel on the kitchen counter, revealing a faint stain of blood still below her lip. She sighed and brought a delicate hand up to rub her temple. All the hope she had placed on this new world had vanished much sooner than she anticipated.

After a moment Sam came to her aid, "We can help with whatever you're trying to do, we just need some information..." He trailed off, hoping that Sherilyn would fill in the rest.

"Like I said," she muttered, "It's a long story."

"Perfect. We got all day." Dean said, throwing the car keys on the table and taking off his jacket. It was nice to be back in Bobby's house, even if things had been moved around and he wasn't there. The Bunker was getting to chaotic with people showing up constantly and there were books everywhere, which he hated. A vacation at Bobby's would be perfect.

"You're not going to believe me." She said simply.

Even though the boys weren't telepathic, twins, or anything that allowed you to read minds, Sam agreed with Dean's demeanor and started to settle in. "Sure we will. We believe in a lot of things." He cleared is throat, "you have any food here? Breakfast would be nice."

"Yes! Food." Dean's eyes lit up.

Sherilyn rolled hers. "No, there isn't any food." The boy's making themselves comfortable made her agitated. There was no reason for them to stay beyond them being nosy.

"Fine, I'll go get some. Dean?" Sam opened his hand as Dean tossed the car keys in to them.

"If they have a breakfast burger get me that. If they don't, then get me a regular burger and order a side of eggs." Sherilyn scrunched her nose at the thought of eating a burger for breakfast. "What do you want, Cupcake?"

She scrunched her nose up even more. "Don't call me Cupcake, and nothing, I'm fine."

"A breakfast burger and two American breakfasts' it is then. Be back in a few." Sam gave Dean a 'don't let her leave,' look which his brother nodded an understanding too.

As Sam left, Dean sat down and kicked his feet up on Bobby's kitchen table. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Princess." He threw out another pet name to get under her skin. "You can either start talking, or we can wait until Sammy get's back and we can make you start talking. Either way, you've raised enough red flags with us to peak our interest and you ain't leavin' to we get the story."

Sherilyn was blown away by his cockiness. Never in her life had a hunter marched in to her house and talk to her like that. "Tell you what," she said throwing the ball back into his court. "If you help me clean this rat hole up until your brother gets back, maybe I'll tell you the truth."

"You just admitted you're gonna lie to us which isn't very smart."

"You calling me Princess isn't very smart."

They eyed each other for a moment, trying to sum one another up. With his brother gone, Sherilyn thought she might stand a chance at getting him out of the house. She might have not been a very well trained fighter but she had a few tricks up her sleeve.

Dean on the other hand wasn't concerned at all if they started getting physical. He never was, with anyone. "Let's start with where you come from." Dean demanded.

Sherilyn chuckled, "Siuox Falls South Dakota," raising her arms sarcastically and gesturing to the house around them. "A question for a chore, how's that sound? Help me take out the trash that's in the side yard."

Dean set a hard expression, "it seems like you got this funny notion in your head that you're gonna live here, but you're not. Let's make that real clear right now. I'm not going to take any of Bobby's trash out or help you do chores because no one is moving in." He let his feet fall to the floor and neatly folded his hands on the table, leaning in almost daring Sherilyn to make a sudden move.

"Where am I supposed to go, if not my house?"

"This isn't your house, Cupcake."

Sherilyn's face fell to match Dean's. She turned her chin to the side and cracked her neck, debating what to do about this strange man overstaying his welcome. Dean's handgun was a foot away from her, she could grab it and force him out. The factor of being a huge cluts had be to factored in though. He was far enough away, she thought, and created a fair chance at winning.

Without looking at Dean she reached for his abandoned gun and had it in her grasp when one muscular arm wrapped around her neck and other grabbed on to the wrist holding the gun. Damn this guy moves fast and now she looked like the asshole.

"Drop it," he said tightening the choke hold. Without hesitation she let the gun go and it thumped to the ground. Dean didn't budge on his hold. "How do you know Bobby?" He was over playing games with her.

"He's my dad."

"Bullshit. Try again."

"He's my dad, I swear." Sherilyn's face was starting to turn red from lack of oxygen. Both her hands had found their way to Dean's forearm and were trying to pry him off.

"I've known Bobby since I was 8 and he never mentioned a damn daughter. Who are you?"

Sherilyn tried to suck in a big breath of air, only getting half of what she needed. "Sherilyn Singer, you dick. I came through a little stupid golden light and ended up here." Dean let his grip go and she fell forward away from him, frantically trying to fill her lungs.

"You came through the portal?"

"Fuck you."

He gave her a moment, feeling slightly bad now that he understood. "Where was it?" Dean's hope for saving his mom and Jack rose in his chest.

Focusing on breathing, Sherilyn raised a middle finger at him and took several strained gulps of air.

"Look, I'm sorry, ok?" He picked up his gun and took out the magazine to signal peace. "I don't like having my own gun pointed at me. Why don't we just sit down and start from the beginning." He moved slowly and sat back down at the kitchen table.

Sherilyn shook her head. "Screw you."

They sat in silence for several minutes while she straightened herself out. The tention in the air had decreased significantly now that Dean wasn't on the defensive. He wished Sam would hurry up and get back, he was never the best at making amends. Dean wondered if he should call in Cas for this but remembered that he was surfing through heaven somewhere. He wanted to both hurry the process along of getting information out of this other-universe girl, and prolonging reality's imminent problems. It was nice being back at Bobby's. Like they had stepped back in time to simpler problems – if Leviathans could be considered simpler problems.

It took Sherilyn a minute to come around but talking to hunters was her strong suit and she still ultimately needed help. "I found your picture on the wall over there and then heard one of your voicemails. Only one on Bobby's personal phone. I figured whoever you were, you were important enough to get your own direct line and that it'd be worth my money to reach out."

Dean nodded, he and his brother definitely were worth the money. "I think we should start a little earlier than that, don't you? Like how you got here and why you climbed through a portal."

Keeping her distance, Sherilyn leaned up against a far wall in the kitchen and crossed her arms. "I woke up with my EMF reader going crazy. Followed the signals to an abandoned house a few blocks from here. I knew what it was when I saw it. Read about it before. Don't care to find the Nephilim who opened it, but I thought I'd take a chance at getting help. Where I come from things aren't so good."

"Tell me about it," Dean mumbled to himself. "Where you're from, Bobby still there?" He had already met another version of Bobby, post-apocalyptic version, actually, and it was somewhat frightening. Realizing for the first time that there could be a Bobby out there very similar to the one he knew was kind of nice.

"Old man died of liver failure two years ago. Suppose when mom died he didn't stand much of a chance at a healthy lifestyle."

"Your mom, she uh-," he tried to tread lightly, "get possessed and Bobby have to gank her?"

Sherilyn threw him a dirty look. "Smooth."

Judging by her response, he took it as a yes. "That happened here too, only there wasn't any kid involved. That's probably where the timelines split. So where you're from there's no us? No Winchester family anywhere?"

It was nauseating to some degree knowing that in this universe she didn't exist. "The only big shot hunter I know of is some idjit named Garth. Met him once. Had 'douche bag' printed all over him. Saved the world once and it's like he's God."

Dean cracked a smile. "Remind me to introduce you to our Garth. Man is a national treasure but completely useless." As he finished his sentence the black chevy impala could be seen in the horizon. "bout time."

They waited patiently while Sam arrived and got out of the car with take out bags. He handed Dean's his breakfast burger, took his own, and place a box in front of an empty chair for Sherilyn to take as he sat down. "What'd I miss?" Sherilyn stood her ground away from Dean and the food.

"Sherilyn here is from a different dimension, snuck through when I was probably out with Arthur." Dean grabbed hold of his food and began to eat.

Sam stopped and looked at her in surprise, the topic of jumping through portals way to familiar with them for comfort. "You're saying multiple portals form every time we open one?"

But Sherilyn was concerned about another issue, "you're actively jumping between dimensions? Are you insane? You can get away with it once or twice but you guys are talking about it like you do it every day!"

Dean snorted with food in his mouth, "we would if we could, sweetheart."

Her jaw hung open completely appalled. "How many times have you gone through?"

The brothers look at each other, "a couple, why?" Sam said.

Sherilyn wanted to reach out and strangle them. "You're messing with the fabric of not just your reality but everyone elses." She seethed. "Who are you guys and what's wrong with you!?"

Sam leaned back in his chair, "pretty sure you jumped through a portal too."

"Yeah, once, knowing full well that I stand a chance of never going back!"

Sherilyn and Sam stared each other down while Dean continued to eat. "I appreciate your concern but we have reasons for jumping through portals, ok? And I can ask you the same question, who are you?"

Dumbfounded was the best way to describe Sherilyn. "My name is Sherilyn Singer and I came here looking for Rufus Turner only to find the two halfwits who are most likely responsible for the issues occurring in my universe. A portal opened up a few months ago, and you know where it connected to?" She didn't give them the opportunity to respond, "purgatory. You know what purgatory is?" Again, she didn't care. "It's where all the dead monsters live. You know what happened when a door from purgatory opens to the normal world? Monsters run through it like their lives depend on it, which they do. And you know what came through with all those monsters?" This question she let hang in the air for a moment, giving her an opportunity to reach for her bag and pull a notebook. "Typhon." She slammed the note book down on the table to a page with several newspaper clippings taped in.

"Typhon is the father all monsters. He came in and basically resurrected all his children at the same time. Half of my world's population is already dead because this portal opened."