She waved the smog from the retreating bus out of her face. Well, she was finally there. After a day and a half of picking up rides from strangers and taking the occasional bus, Frankie was finally in Windom, Minnesota.

She rolled her shoulders. The stress of traveling and using her money sparingly was off of her shoulders, at least for the time being. She knew the entire way up there that there was no guarantee that she'd get any luckier than she did in the library back home, but she kept telling herself that she'd worry about that after she investigated the citizens of this town.

On the way over, Frankie mulled over where she'd start to ask for John Winchester. She came to the decision of starting in the police department. Surely the officers who were involved in the case all those years ago were still around. Maybe at least one of them knew John. However, the thought of meeting strangers right as she arrived sickened her. She was covered in sweat and was physically exhausted.

She decided, while standing on the sidewalk almost lost-looking, to check into a hotel and freshen up before investigating any further. Maybe she'd go out for a drink while she was resting up. Despite this being a serious journey to find a biological match to her kidney, she thought she just might treat the ordeal like a vacation. She rarely got a chance to travel in leisure, so why not start in Windom?

She checked into a motel instead upon seeing the local pricings for hotels. The room was nothing lavish, but had everything she needed for a short stay. She tossed her bag onto the lone bed with a sigh. She kept telling herself that she deserved this. She told herself that she deserved to relax despite doing very little. The rebuttal in her head was that she was an emotional wreck. Her mother just lost a long battle with her time bomb of a body and now Frankie was left all alone. She didn't even have a damn pet to look after. One would help, that was for sure.

She stripped down and placed her dirty clothes on the bed before padding into the bathroom. After figuring out how the faucet worked, she stepped into the tile shower and began washing her grimy body and thick brown hair under the steaming stream.

It didn't take long before Frankie's mind started wandering to more grim topics. What if John said no? What if he sneered at her proposition and turned his back on her? What if he didn't even accept the fact that she was his kid? What was she going to do then? She supposed the only thing to do would be to go back home to an empty house, to apply to the bar her mom worked at – she was twenty-one now – and live a life of anxiety for ten years, just waiting for that identifiable pain that indicated her expected cysts.

And then a worse thought popped into her paranoid head. What if he only had one kidney? He was a dangerous man, and quite a drinker, too, if her mom was telling the truth. What if over the years he had an accident and damaged one of his organs or what if he actually was a considerate guy and gave it to someone else who needed it?

She closed her eyes. She didn't want it to be true. She didn't want all of her effort so far and the effort to come to be for nothing. She simply supposed that she had to hope that he would have one to spare, and hope that he would be willing to give it up for her.


She walked through the glass door and entered the realm of beer, sweat, and cigarette smoke. She took a solid sniff and lightly smirked. It smelled like her childhood. She let the door close behind her and walked up to the bar to sit on an open stool. She ignored the interested face of the man on the next stool over.

It wasn't but a few seconds before a bartender appeared before her with a bright smile. She was a middle aged woman with slightly curled blonde hair. "Hi, sweetie. What can I get ya? Tap water?" she quipped, an obviously a hit to Frankie's young appearance. The girl smiled at the remark as she took out her driver's license.

"Whiskey, please," she answered passively. Her order raised the eyebrows of the bartender as she prepared her beverage.

"That's a big drink for such a small girl. Something troubling you?"

"No, ma'am. Just been a long few days," Frankie sighed with a small shake of her head.

"No 'ma'am' here, honey. Here I go by Lisa. Though, I gotta say I appreciate the politeness." She placed Frankie's glass in front of her and poured her drink. The younger woman gave a small thank you with a nod before taking a sip, relishing in the familiar burn.

Her mother never approved of her early start to drinking, but she accepted it as an inevitability since her career merged so closely with her personal life. Frankie found herself smiling into her glass as a few memories flooded back to her. They were bittersweet ones. She remembered her mother being her only drinking partner. She didn't have a lot of friends and the ones she did have were uptight goody-two-shoes pricks who soon left when they figured out her mom's job. She didn't mind. Her mom was all the friend she needed.

She gave a sigh through her nose as she raised her head to rip herself from the saddening memories. She took in her surroundings as she listened to the dull country music ringing through the bar. There wasn't much to take in, really. Tables and chairs, a pool table, fluorescent lights everywhere, and a thick fog of smoke collecting in the air.

Once done looking at the rest of the building, she turned her attention to the wall behind the bar. Aside from the racked up beverages, there was a small section adorned with photos of a prominent couple. She instantly recognized the woman as the bartender, Lisa. She recognized the man only when he came into view behind the counter. They apparently worked together at the bar. She supposed that was pretty nice. The man was bald, wore large, round glasses, and looked middle aged as well. She sighed once more before giving the photos a split second glance as she went for another sip.

She nearly spit out her drink as she took a double take to the wall. Her mouth had a mind of its own and decided to go slack as she stared a something she wasn't entirely sure was there. Why would it be? It was much too convenient to her current predicament.

She had to blink a few times before she was absolutely sure that it was there. On the wall, clear as day, was the exact same newspaper article that brought her to Windom. She stared incredulously at the article depicting multiple police officers and one John Winchester. As much as she hesitated to take her eyes off of his vague image lest the article disappear, she also recognized another new familiar face, it being the male bartender in front of her.

She switched her eyes between his face on the newspaper and in real life a few times before she made an attempt at speaking. "E-Excuse me," she piped up a little too eagerly. Once she got the man's attention, he smiled as brightly to her as Lisa had. "Why do you have that newspaper article on your wall?" she asked with all the seriousness in her body. The man stopped cleaning his glass and looked behind him at the article.

"Oh!" he said with a diluted joy. He turned back to her as he offered a thumb to point back at the picture. "That was a case I solved back in the day when I was a deputy. Before I ran this place." He gestured to the building with his free hand.

"Co-ran, Joe," Lisa playfully corrected as she momentarily passed him. The man let out a chuckle as he continued his cleaning.

Frankie's eyebrows knitted together at the drop of his name. "Joe? Joe Barton?" she asked.

"That's me," the man answered. Frankie felt a surge of excitement jolt in her. She tried to further the conversation once she realized that she had been staring in amazement.

"I-I read about that case. How you found all the bodies. You were awarded for it." Joe looked close to blushing with pride as he rubbed his rag into another glass. He nodded and looked ready to toot his own horn before Frankie continued. "Since you were there, maybe you know the man I'm looking for. Do you know John Winchester?"

Though she was sure he tried to hide it, Frankie noticed him pause his cleaning. A quick flick of her eyes up to his face showed that his proud attitude was gone and replaced with a neutral expression fitted with slightly narrowed brows. He looked up at her over his glasses with an almost quizzical face.

In an instant, his entire demeanor change to a more stereotypical thinking face. He looked up to the ceiling with pursed lips as he continued his glass cleaning. "John Winchester, huh? Name doesn't really ring a bell." At his words, the built up hope in Frankie's chest was snuffed out like the cigarette from the asshole sitting next to her. It seemed like a brand new rain cloud settled itself nicely next to the ever shriveling heart inside her. "Why? Who is this John Winchester to you?" Joe followed up, seemingly averting his eyes.

Frankie wasn't really sure she should be spilling her affiliations to John to every local bartender on her travels, but she felt the strong need to let someone other than her deceased mother know about her father. Eventually she needed to vent. "He's my father." She didn't notice when Joe stopped cleaning this time. "I've never actually met him… so I'm hoping that I can find him. I know that he was here years ago, so… I don't know. I was kinda holding out that someone here had known him." Frankie went quiet for a minute, realizing just how screwed up her situation was. She shook her head with a sigh and a hopeless smile. "Guess it's a pretty fat chance, huh?" she added solemnly before downing the rest of her drink.

The atmosphere was quiet aside from the casual bar noises. Frankie let the lonely country music do all the talking for her for the rest of the night. She decided that she was done. A new gloom clutched to her shoulders. If Joe Barton, the very man who solved the case back in 1990, didn't know who John was, then what are the odds of anyone else at the police department knowing? The police and bar were the only two places that a guy like him would be affiliated with, right? With a huff, she paid for her drink and started to hop off of her stool.

"I'm not entirely an expert on these things," Joe started, gaining her attention back, "but if I were looking for traces of someone who passed through here, I'd hit up the local hospital. They see more people than anyone around here. Even the police." Frankie stared up at his smiling face. It seemed forced, and it looked as if he were holding back something else that he wanted to say. She decided this once to ignore that look and instead smiled back. She nodded and gave her thanks before stepping off of her stool and exiting the bar.

She went right back to the motel. She'd wake up early in the morning for the nearest hospital. She felt like Joe was onto something. Surely someone like John Winchester got injuries a lot on the job. Maybe he did come by the hospital there at some point. Maybe Joe knew more than he told her…

The thought stuck to her mind until the moment her head hit a pillow. Only then did she realize just how exhausted she really was.


She paid the creepy taxi driver his faire and turned to the stretching building of the first hospital she'd come across. She had simply told the driver to take her to the most visited local hospital he knew and now here she was. She narrowed her eyebrows against the bright light of the early sun and sauntered through the automatic doors of the building.

She entered the contemporary designed lobby. She noticed a nurse here, an orderly there, and the occasional patient. It was any ordinary hospital, which made her question if normal was what John would be thinking if he needed wounds to tend to.

She shook out of her thoughts and walked over to the front desk of the lobby. A larger woman sat in the chair beyond the counter, squinting passed her glasses to a glowing computer screen. Frankie walked up to the desk and put on her most complying smile. The woman reciprocated the gesture.

"Hi. I don't know if you're the person to talk to this about or not," Frankie stated, placing her nervous hands on the granite surface of the counter, "but I need to search for someone who may have been admitted to this hospital around nineteen years ago. Can you help me with something like that?" At first Frankie was met with a baffled expression. This was obviously not what the woman thought she'd be doing first thing in the morning. Nonetheless, the woman put on an understanding smile.

"I'll see what I can do," she answered. "What's the name of the patient?"

"Uh, John Winchester," Frankie spoke clearly as if she were speaking through a recorder. As the woman typed away at her keyboard, a nurse dressed in a very pink uniform quickly made her way over to the two.

"Excuse me," the nurse eagerly butted in, causing Frankie to step back in slight alarm at her sudden appearance. "Hello! My name is Pamela. What's your name?"

Frankie was caught off guard by her insanely perky attitude and high pitched voice. She was also put off by the incredibly intrusive question. "Um… Frankie Pearce?"

"Hi, Frankie. What was that name that you just mentioned now?" the nurse asked in quite the fervent voice. Frankie sent a quick glance of help over to the woman behind the desk, but she was busily looking through her screen for her father. A look back to the nurse, Pamela, filled her with increasing anxiety. This was definitely a woman she didn't think she should mention John to. What if she wanted him dead? Then she could use her as bait. Not that he'd come for a daughter he knew nothing about, but it was still a threat.

"She's looking for a 'John Winchester'," the woman sitting at the desk muttered for her. Dammit. Now she was dead for sure.

"Ha! I knew it!" the nurse shouted. "I haven't heard that name in a while. He was always a real cutie. Is he back in town?" That was when Frankie perked up. "Are you friends with Adam?" she asked last minute. Frankie narrowed her eyebrows at the nurse.

"No. I don't know an Adam." The nurse seemed to deflate at that. "Wait. Do you know John?" Frankie asked excitedly, relieving the tension in her alarmed shoulders.

"Well, pfft, not personally," the nurse brushed off. Again, Frankie was met with that burrowing raincloud. "But I know someone who does." And she left it at that. Frankie was left hanging and she shook her head while gesturing for the nurse to continue.

"Can I get the name of this person? Can you point me in the direction of them?" she urged on, trying to get more out of the ditzy woman.

"Well, hold on there, kiddo. I don't just go around giving personal information of my coworkers to just anyone. Why are you looking for John Winchester?"

Frankie paused for a moment, but she ultimately decided that not telling people wouldn't deliver him to her any faster. "He's my father. I'm trying to finally meet him in person. I've been looking for him for a few days."

The room grew very quiet after those words were spoken. The faces of both the nurse and the desk clerk fell to a blank expression. Frankie looked between the both of them, already knowing that they both knew something she didn't. It was a while before one of them spoke. It was the desk clerk. "Here, sweetie," she said as she grabbed an index card and a pen. "Go to this address. A woman named Kate Milligan lives there. Maybe she can help you."

"Ida," the nurse urgently snapped. "You're just going to give her Kate's address?"

"What would you have her do? Wander around town mindlessly looking for him?"

The two exchanged a few more challenging words as if Frankie wasn't there. She tried to drown them out as she examined the card. She smiled down at it. She finally had a lead. She was so caught up in the excitement of meeting this "Kate Milligan" that she walked off as the two women bickered without giving them so much as another glance.


She was standing in front of the nice looking house of Miss Milligan. It was a decently sized house and very well taken care of by the looks of it alone. It didn't look like the house of a crazed murderer, so maybe that desk clerk was helping her after all.

She walked up to the front door with false confidence and knocked a few times on the door. That's when a new panic washed up. What was she going to say to this woman? She had no idea about the affiliation she had to John, so how was she going to allude to him? Maybe she wasn't home. Maybe she could turn and walk away without any damage.

Just as she turned around, the door opened wide behind her. Her head snapped back to see a golden haired woman around her early forties standing in the threshold. Frankie tried as quickly as she could to put on a decent smile and turn her body back around to face the stranger.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked in genuine inquiry. Frankie opened her mouth in a response, but for some reason no words came out. She had a million things that she wanted to say, but her brain simply couldn't pick one to settle on. Feeling the awkwardness of the situation sink into her gut, she settled on the easiest question to ask.

"Are you Kate Milligan?" she asked, holding her breath for the simple answer.

"I am," the woman answered. Frankie exhaled. "What can I do for you?"

"I, uh…," Frankie started, wondering why it was so hard to form a simple sentence. Maybe it was because she felt like she was so close to finding John. "I was told that maybe you can help me. I'm… well, I'm looking for someone."

"Oh?" the woman, Kate, muttered as she placed a hand against the door frame and narrowed her eyes. "Who would that be?" Frankie felt in her heart that at this point she should be as blunt as she could be. She wouldn't get anywhere with stuttering and stammering through her travels. She took in a deep breath and let it out before gazing up to Kate's eyes with a sincere hope in her honey irises.

"My name is Frankie Pearce. I'm John Winchester's daughter."

For a lifetime, it seemed, there was nothing spoken between the two. A car passed with a whirr. A boy peddled passed on his squeaky bike. But there were no words shared between two women. All there was in the stilled air were stares of deep thought.

Frankie took in the look on Kate's face. Her mouth was parted slightly with furrowed brows, looking her over in a quizzical gaze. Her eyes scanned over her entire face. It looked like she was attempting to find the resemblance. With the light shake of her head and her quirked eyebrows, it seemed as though she found it.

It took a while, but Kate finally moved to the side and opened the door further. "Come-Come in… please," she stammered, raw from the apparent shock of Frankie's reveal.

"Thank you," the younger girl uttered before walking into the well decorated home of Miss Milligan.

"Can I, uh… get you anything? Something to drink?" Kate asked. She seemed to be a rather accommodating host, especially to a complete stranger. Frankie didn't want to be rude, so she asked for water. "Just take a seat anywhere in the living room. I'll be right there."

Frankie did as she was told and walked into the living room. She looked around with mixed emotions of amusement and jealousy. Just the living room was nicer than most of her own house. She picked out a nice spot to sit and made her way over to it. She very well would have sat down if she hadn't lifted her head to gaze at some nearby family photos.

She felt her blood run cold at the sight.

She remained frozen until her shock splashed hot urgency over her and pushed her to almost trip over herself to get to the pictures. She couldn't believe the sight. Sitting as normally as any other family photo was a picture of Kate Milligan and John Winchester, hugging each other like a loving, married couple.

Frankie's eyes lingered on John, on her father, snuggling up all friend like to this stranger. He looked older, that she could tell from his slightly greying hair, so he had been in this very house in the past few years. So this was where he'd been. She couldn't stop the jealousy in her if she had tried to.

So he knocks up her mother and runs off, never looking back, to find the next one night stand, only he finds something special in her and decides to stay for a while. Fucking perfect. What a lovely little fairytale.

She stopped herself from thinking that thought as soon as it mustered through her vulnerable mind. She had no proof to speculate that that was what happened. Maybe he had just met her recently and he wanted to settle down instead of constantly making his occasional rounds. She could accept that. And besides, she should be happy! Enthralled, even. She found him! She found where he was staying. And his girlfriend seemed like a nice lady. Maybe she could convince him to help her out.

"Here you go. One water," said woman cheerily announced, though Frankie could hear the playful restraint in her voice. She turned and accepted the beverage with an equally fake smile. Kate then silently gestured to the seats in the living room with an eager grin and they both sat down across from each other. "So," she started. Frankie was glad that she was breaking the ice because she didn't know if she had it in her to do so. "You're John's daughter, huh?" she asked. Frankie could see the discomfort on her face clear as day. "How old are you, might I ask?"

"Uh, twenty-one," Frankie responded. She was met with the slightly hidden look of relief. She tried not to be offended by the notion.

"Well… what can I do for you, Frankie?" she asked. For some reason, the name sounded so foreign coming from her mouth.

"I'm looking for John," she stated simply. She didn't know how else to say it. That was her mission. She had no other way to brace her for that. Something in her told her that maybe she should have said it a little less blunt right around the time when Kate's face took an uncomfortable turn. "I… it's a family emergency," she added. She was a good person. Easing the bluntness was inevitable. "Well… more like a medical emergency, really…"

Alright, that was enough. She had to stop before she rambled.

"Well, it's a little less severe than 'emergency', but it's still really important. Important to me." Too late.

"Okay," Kate muttered, nodding with an unsure disposition. "What kind of medical emergency?" At the question, Kate's voice turned a little more serious. Frankie supposed that it was because it was in her job description. She was a nurse, right?

As for the question itself, Frankie was again met with the need to be blunt about her predicament. She already knew explaining this to John would be nearly impossible, but now she was met with his significant other in her own damn house where John was nowhere to be seen. She decided that being polite would not get her point across, so blunt it had to be.

"My mom just died," she let out with a soul deep sigh. The look on Kate's face spelled sympathy, but Frankie wasn't looking for any sympathy from this woman. "She had problems with her kidneys. It's… well, it's a genetic disorder. I'm pretty much guaranteed to get it, but the severity, it… it's uncertain. But… if my mother's experience was anything to go by, then it's not going to be a pretty process." She took a moment to gather her breath, not daring to look up to the woman in front of her.

"The thing is," she started, pausing awkwardly to scratch at her neck, "none of my remaining family are eligible for transplants, and even if they were, none of them are in the country. Now I'm down to one possible family member for consideration, but… heh, the problem is I've…," she finally lifted her head to stare into the older woman's considering eyes. "I've never met him. Not once in my life. I never saw a previous reason to look him up and now… now I really need to just talk to him. Do you know where my father is?"

Kate was silent for a long time, longer than she was outside. She held a nearly unreadable expression, but what Frankie could read spelled out in big, bold letters "DISCOMFORT." As the silence stretched on, Frankie couldn't hold her determined façade any longer. She had to break out her pathetic politeness.

"I mean, I don't need an answer right this second," she blurted, her voice slightly echoing in the open room. "My kidneys aren't supposed to start acting up until I'm around thirty anyways, so… so I don't exactly need his kidney now, per se. I just need… y'know his consideration. I-I'd very much like a chance at life, y'know?"

Oh god, she sounded like such a sob story.

"Geez, look at me," she humorlessly chuckled. "I haven't even met the guy and I'm already making plans to guilt trip him… Look, I'm sorry I'm dumping all of this on you now. It-It wasn't my intention."

"No, I understand," the older woman finally spoke up. "I just… well… gosh, this is pretty awkward." She tried to form the words in her mind, and all Frankie could do was wait patiently while sipping her water. "I don't know exactly where he is."

Frankie couldn't remember if it was her words or the front door loudly opening that made her choke on her water. "Hey, mom! You'll never guess who I ran into on the way over here!" called a young sounding male voice. Frankie looked over to the front entrance of the house as she wiped the running water from her chin. Standing just in the entrance of the living room was a rather tall young man, younger than her, with dark blonde hair, his smile faltering when his eyes landed on Frankie. "Oh, I-I'm sorry. I didn't know you had company over."

"No, it's fine, honey," Kate quickly eased as she shot up from her chair. She seemed rather eager to get out of the awkward situation. "Um… come in here! Let me see you. It's been a while," she beamed as she was greeted by the boy with an engulfing hug. "I wished you'd come home more," she quietly added as the hug broke. In unison, Kate and the boy looked over to Frankie sitting on the couch. The new stranger looked confused. Kate looked troubled.

"Uh… Frankie, this is my son, Adam," Kate introduced with a wavering smile. Frankie looked over to the boy with a neutral smile.

"Hi," he greeted simply with a half wave before putting the hand into his jacket pocket. He then returned his gaze to his mother for her to help him better understand why there was a strange girl sitting in their living room.

"Adam," Kate started, doing just that, as she placed her hands on his shoulders to turn the rest of his body to face Frankie fully, even going as far as pushing him a little closer. "This is Frankie. She's… she's John's daughter."

Frankie watched as the joyous disposition in the boy's eyes faded away. His head snapped over to his mother with surprising speed. The two exchanged a series of silent looks to each other, leaving Frankie to feel a little weirded out. She placed her mostly empty glass on the coffee table in front of her before raising her eyes back up to the pair, noticing Adam looking her over in unknown astonishment. He let an unreadable huff out of his slack mouth, leaving Frankie's brows to narrow.

"I-I have a sister?"

That was the second time Frankie's blood ran cold.

Now it was her turn to look him over in bewilderment. Kate was insinuating that… that Adam was her half-brother, John's son. Her eyes wandered over his entire form, mostly his face. The nose sure did look familiar.

Frankie didn't know how to register her feelings. She'd always wondered what it'd be like to have a sibling – every only child does – but somehow this scenario never passed her mind. She now saw the other perspective of the bluntness of a situation. Having this suddenly dropped on her shoulders did not bode well for her mental stability.

She tried to shake her mind out of the shock. She had always speculated that John spread his seed across the states and now she knew it was true. She just wished he hadn't stayed with them is all. What the hell made them so special?

Frankie mentally slapped herself for thinking something so selfish. They seemed like nice people and deserved happiness. Only… Frankie deserved happiness, too.

She realized that the room was back into its silent state. Frankie swallowed hard to choke down the negative feelings. "Hi," she greeted, introducing herself to Adam as his half-sister instead of a complete stranger. He gave a light chuckle under his breath.

"Hi," he greeted back. He then walked all the way into the living room and outstretched his hand to her. She didn't hesitate to clutch her hand in his and shake it. "It's, uh, nice to finally meet you!" he cheerily added. Then something went off inside him that let loose a thought. That much Frankie could tell from his suddenly furrowed brows. "Does Dad know where you are?" he asked her.

Frankie at first internally shriveled at the thought of calling John "Dad", but then shook it off to answer his question. "I doubt it. We've never met. I don't think he even knows I exist." That didn't sit well with Adam. His face fell to a rather troubled expression. It almost looked like a bad memory rose from his mind.

He kept that look as he turned around to face his mother. "We gotta call him." Kate took a moment to take in a deep breath before exhaling as she nodded. Adam turned back to face Frankie as soon as he got the okay from his mother, nothing but seriousness shrouding his familiar features. "I've got his number. Would you like me to-"

"Please," Frankie answered before he even finished his question. A small hint of a smile pulled from the corner of his mouth before it fell to the serious face of a man on a mission.

He pulled out his small grey cellphone and pressed a few buttons until the phone was brought up to his ear. Kate had come over to sit next to Frankie as he dealt with the phone call. She looked over to the older woman who smiled with soothing intent.

"We'll get you to John. If I know him at all, he'll want to help you. Especially since you're family. He's always been one for family." Frankie could only allow the first genuine smile of the day leak onto her face. It started out as a relieved smile, but then it quickly turned into an excited grin. Something in Kate's face brightened. "You have his smile," she said with a belated chuckle. Frankie's grin only grew.

"I get that a lot," she snickered out. For the first time since she left her home in Hollis, she felt like things were turning around. She felt that finally something was going her way.

"Uh, is this John?" Adam asked into the phone. Kate and Frankie turned their heads to the boy standing on the other side of the living room. The voice on the other line, while incoherent to the women, sounded rough and deep. "No, no, no. I-I really need to talk to John. This is Adam Milligan. He knows me," he added, determination dripping from his voice. There was a long pause before both women on the couch noticed Adam's face fall like a kicked puppy. His mouth slipped open, a small gasp falling out of it as he looked like he had been punched by angst itself.

Kate and Frankie shared another looked, this one filled with confusion and worry. They looked back expectantly, waiting for any indication as to what was being said on the other line.

"I-I'm his son," Adam choked out, looking very near tears. There seemed to be a long pause on the other line. At this time, Adam stumbled into the middle of the living room and dropped himself on the chair across from the couch. He brought his free hand up to his forehead, rubbing it and raking his fingers through his hair as he tried to control his roaming emotions. Soon after Kate whispered to him to try and get him to spill about what the man said, another voice filtered through the phone, this one softer than before. They could now hear what was being said on the other line now that Adam was closer.

"Hi, uh, who is this?" the voice spoke.

"Adam. Milligan. I'm John Winchester's son," the boy answered, his voice louder and more angry than sad.

"Okay," the other voice responded after a slight pause. "My name is Sam. What do you need John for?"

"It's a family emergency. He… h-he needs to be here, but…," Adam gestured wildly in the air before dropping his hand on his knee with a slap.

"Right. Well, uh… we knew John personally. We're… practically family. Maybe we could come in his place." Frankie didn't miss the past tense of "know."

"No," Adam answered with diluted vigor. "No, no, this is something personal. It's…," he trailed off. He raised his eyes to look between his mother and long lost sister, lingering on the latter.

"Look, I understand the circumstance. Really, I do, but if there's an emergency, we can help. We knew John… better than anyone, really." With his eyes still on Frankie, Adam swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing mechanically as he nodded his head.

"Alright."

"Good. Where can we find you?"

"Windom, Minnesota. I'll text you an address to where we can meet." Adam's voice sounded just as mechanical as his swallowing.

The goodbyes were curt and unemotional. Adam closed his cellphone with a resonating snap before he tossed it down onto the coffee table, barely missing Frankie's forgotten glass. His hands found his face, his elbows resting on his knees as he stroked his fingers over his features.

"Adam, honey," Kate cooed from across him. "What's wrong? What's the matter?"

The boy's face lifted from his hands, his fingers linking together in front of him. He looked emotionally drained, even from a simple phone call that lasted merely minutes. He refused to look back into the eyes of the two women in front of him, a shake of his head telling them that whatever news he just received were not welcome.

"Dad's dead."

Silence. This time it wasn't the result of an awkward situation, but instead of utter, near hysterical shock. Adam remained as stoic as he could. In the corner of her eye, Frankie saw Kate bring a hand slowly up her cover her mouth. But Frankie… Frankie was in a much different state.

While she didn't have the benefit of knowing John personally, they didn't have the benefit of chasing after a lingering hope for twenty-one long, excruciating years. Now, in the mere span of a phone call, that hope was lacerated, utterly squashed in front of her eyes.

She held onto a hope that she'd meet John one day. She hoped to see him, to talk to him, to know his story. She hoped to learn about the real John Winchester. She hoped to meet her father. And now as a result of her pursuits, she discovered the horrible truth. She discovered that not only would she never meet John, but that she was now and will forever be an orphan, wandering the crust of the planet Earth to find something to fill the hole that hope once inhabited.

As a result of her pursuits, she had no kidneys, no parents, and no hope.

A foreign hand clutched her shoulder. She didn't flinch. To do so, she'd have to feel something instead of utter numbness. She turned her head to meet the watery eyes of Kate. She had apparently known exactly what Frankie was thinking and sent her a knowingly sorry gaze. Frankie accepted this sympathy.

She tore her head away from the lingering stare of the woman, lest she, too, begin to sob. Lifting her eyes, she noticed that Adam was also looking at her, almost expectantly. What did they expect her to do, to say? Did they want her to break down crying? Did they want her to leave the house in an angered, indignant manner? Did they expect her to say, "Oh well," and thank them for the effort? None of those were the reality. Frankie took a moment to breath, swallowed the lump in her throat, and looked Adam dead in the eyes.

"Where are we meeting them?"