"Of course I'm going to help," she responded.

Of course she would. To hear the spiral of emotions from her older brother, that would definitely do it for sure. Concern, pleading, and joking as he explained the matter at hand and obvious question he never actually voiced. The wheedling and joking she had grown familiar with in recent years when he spoke to her of possible cases. Especially as of late.

It had become far more often and common for their dad to split from Dean in taking cases. To work alone. While Dad worked best alone and this was a move she had seen a long time coming, Dean played lone wolf far better than actually being one. Her older brother preferred company, teamwork, family. Always had.

With Dad taking off on his own for cases, considering the multiple examples they had in growing up, it should not have taken Dean for surprise. And it hadn't, she gave to Dean. But he had certainly been disheartened and dejected by it. Disappointed.

As a result, if Dean happened to be what he considered 'close enough' to swing by on the way to a solo case, he often stopped by. Thus, the wheedling and joking she had grown familiar with from him.

She was certain Dean received a sense of fulfilment from it. Finding and creating moments of joy when they worked together on cases had become more frequent. Things that marked it more than a duty. Or perhaps it a sign of distance from Dad.

Not that Mildred minded. Far from it. It was always a joy to spend time with her brother. Either one, but for different reasons. The past few years were… Well. Dean was not the only one with bouts of lonely and desiring company every now and then. It was strange the distance between them now compared to growing up as they did. Long road trips in close quarters, sharing the same motel room, very few outside of family having the chance to grow close to any of them.

And she enjoyed being helpful. Speaking of, she hurried to finish packing her bag, turned off the light, and dashed down the stairs to stick her head into the library. Bobby barely turned from the desk as he read. Same page as when she'd headed upstairs to pack. Mouth downturned. Jaw tight and shifting, as though he was fighting back on saying something. It was late, or early depending on how one wanted to look at it, so Mildred was surprised Bobby was able to hold back his words.

"I only had the last binder left to put on all the page protectors, extra sheets of paper, post-it notes, and pens to attach for it. Same set up as the rest. If you wouldn't mind since I know you're going to stop by there in a few days. I was hoping to have the whole set delivered by the first weekend of November."

Dean, a half-eaten bowl of spaghetti in his hand, peered in from the dimly lit kitchen area, interest piqued as he ate.

Bobby's mouth moved too, deciding to speak up after all. "Don't see why the insistence on all those page protectors. How many did you waste money buying for all those binders?" He grumbled. Mildred caught the added grumble under his breath. "Not even for the original set."

She grinned and came fully around the doorframe into the library, tapping the bill of his blue cap. Bobby swatted at the air where her hand had been with a disgruntled noise. "I trust you to take care of the original."

At the opposite end of the library, Dean leaned against the wall as he ate, chuckling. Swallowing, shoving what remained in his mouth into his cheeks, he quipped. "Which originals?"

Bobby's neck swiveled around to him. "Boy, you don't dismiss your sister's hard work and effort. Closest thing to an encyclopedia for hunters I've ever seen."

Her face warmed at the praise and sharply worded defense of what she's spent so much time putting together, ducking her head. It was not as though it was particularly spectacular or anything new. All she had done was a bit of organizing and compiling so it was helpful and easier for her. And possibly then, through that, helpful for any hunters calling up Bobby with specific questions or asking about research. But really, Mildred thought. Anyone could have done it.

Dean swallowed the rest of the spaghetti in his mouth, raising his eyebrow up. "Hey. I still got Red's very original pocket notebook she did at eight. Tucked right in the Impala's glove compartment." His mouth drew upwards, smirking over at Mildred. "Still like to pull it out for a laugh. 'Can ghosts be warded off with salty foods too?' Explains so much of why you kept putting salt on everything and convincing Sam to eat the stuff back then."

Mildred rolled her eyes, shaking her head at her brother. He snickered, shoving another forkful of noodles into his mouth. At Bobby's huff, Mildred turned back to the older man.

"Considering where the set is going, I thought it best to have page protectors. Plus, looks nicer and more official. More likely to get used and receive feedback for updating the information inside. All these books are nice and research is always going to be a must anyway on most cases, but every hunter has things set up their own way. Kind of hard to consolidate knowledge at times. More helpful for everyone. Which was the point of these. To be helpful."

"Yeah." Bobby's mouth quirked upwards, eyes looking over at her. His eyes were warm and full of pride. Mildred smiled, then bit at her lip, glancing away. All right. So she'd taken his suggestion of duplicating the set here for those at the Roadhouse and kind of ran away at the chance for improving it with making it more user friendly. "Can do. Might make Ellen a bit tetchy, all of this right infront'a Jo within easy grabbing distance."

"Thanks, Bobby."

"We ready to go then?" Dean asked. He was already moving back to the kitchen, empty bowl and fork clanging into the sink. He quickly grabbed out a couple drinks from the fridge before heading back out, an impatient look on his face toward his sister. "Got a long drive to, er, yeah. Got a long drive ahead of us, Red."

It had been at the sight of Bobby's sudden scowl, that Dean had backtracked his sentence. Mildred smiled, slightly sad at why, but leaned over to give Bobby a hug. "Stay safe."

"I should be saying that at you," he muttered. Bobby held her by her upper arms as she pulled back from the hug. Just far enough back that he was all she could see, his eyes direct on hers, steady and unyielding. "You always have a place here, Mildred. Don't let that bastard get to you. You hear?"

She drew her gaze downwards, off of Bobby's intense gaze. "I hear you, Bobby," she murmured in reply.

"Good. Now get. Dean's practically dancing over there."

"Macarena or the potty dance?" She asked him with a grin, adjusting the strap of her bag back into place after her and Bobby's parting hug.

"Hey! I've never done either!"

At his automatic and loud denial, Mildred laughed. "So, you do admit to the potty dance?"

"What? No!" He squawked.

"Dean, I have clear memory of you getting really into the Macarena, especially the hands on the butt and shaking it part. We were at the local swimming pool in an Arlington. And there was a group of older girls over—"

"For girls. That's completely different," he stressed. "You and Sam did the stupid dance because it looked like fun, doing it because others were and looking ridiculous."

Mildred smiled, innocently. Staring back evenly, her brother's fingers fidgeted at his sides, and one leg began jiggling. "You did use the bathroom while I was packing, right? After that long drive to get here and long drive ahead of us…"

She trailed off meaningfully. Do you have to use the bathroom before we go? The unvoiced question wavered in the air between them. Now's your chance to do so. Familiar words, repeated often growing up, usually from Dad. Or Dean himself.

Dean's nose wrinkled. "Fine," he spat. "Yes. So shut up."

"I didn't say anything," she called out as he stomped off through the kitchen and down the hallway.

"Just… Just go wait out in the Impala!"

Although she was tempted to laugh, Mildred did not. Instead, her smile fell, staring at where her older brother had been standing at. At least he was successfully distracted. For the moment. From his recollection of events, Dad had been acting strange, then refused to answer any phone call or text. It sounded as though Dad had been solidifying the recent trend of solo cases, pushing Dean away. A grown man, adult, so to say. Able to do this on his own. Mildred wanted to say that was all it was to Dean's story.

Except.

Three weeks ago. It fit. And it explained Dean's terseness, refusal to tell her what was rattling him during the last case they'd done together in New Orleans. She had assumed it was Dad. Had assumed it was the growing trend of them splitting up to cover more cases. That there may have been a recent command and blow up from Dad at Dean's persistence and suggestions to working together.

It appeared Dad had brought her into it. And Sam. Even though Dean had tossed out it'd been a simple truth of facts from Dad, with Sam at school and her at Bobby's place, mixed in with the same words pointing out Dean was a full grown man and hunter…

It did seem odd. Bringing up Mildred and Sam in a conversation revolving around him and Dean. She agreed with Dean's simple wording before going into detail. Dad had been acting strange. That particular detail, it stood out. But that alone was not enough for all of this though. After all, Dad's insistence on working solo was nothing new.

Mildred couldn't help wondering that there was more to it. Simple facts of their current lives and pushing Dean to work separate cases, would not have her older brother like this. Terrified. Concerned. Frantically calling and texting Dad. Running to get her. With plans to get Sam too. After close to two years of Dean and Sam not speaking directly to each other. The idiots, her mind added, both fond and exasperated.

Something was off.

Of course she was going to help.

Mildred tugged her cell phone out from her back pocket, flipping it open. She barely glanced at the previous texts of telling Sam off on not heading to bed, as he was like a kid on Christmas about getting his LSAT score, and telling Jessica to distract her brother for her. Instead, Mildred moved her thumb over the number pad quickly, writing up a new text message.

'Tip: Dress up like an Imp.'

She snapped the cell phone shut without sending the text. Because Dean had arrived shortly after she'd been talking to Sam, then sent the texts. Sam was either finally asleep. Or being distracted by Jessica. Then finally asleep. Mildred could send the text when it was actually daylight outside.

Hopefully her brother got a good LSAT score to celebrate and enjoy. Because Mildred doubted the upcoming visit was going to go over well. A visit from Dean after not speaking directly to one another, could go any direction. She'd been updating each brother about the other when spending time with them after all. They weren't completely out of touch. A visit from Dean after a good day and LSAT results being out would likely go over well. Especially with it being not just Dean, but also her too. It was only Sam…

Mildred sighed.

Sam was not going to like the purpose of this visit. At all.

Useless background:
This sister addition was originally an outlined sis/growingup/casefic thing set back during childhood years. To stand alone as that. Instead I freaking powered through roughly 50K words of a stand alone pilot in just under a month. Kept writing. Do I know what I'm doing? Does it work as a story? Make sense to those not living in my head? Written well? Or at least okay? Hell if I know–probably not in the least–but I wrote it.