Disclaimer: I do not own SPN. Just my OC. Writing for fun.

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Chapter 17: Adventures in Babysitting Part 1

Week One

Sitting. Just an hour or two, maybe even days of just sitting passed by. Silence hugged the room so tight it was hard to breathe. We decided to head over to the brother's safe space Rufus's cabin until we figured out our next move. Honestly? I wanted to scream. Cry. Lash out. Do all the rational things you do when someone dies, but I was reserved. We all were. I wondered how long this would take. I could only imagine what Sam and Dean must feel right now. They literally just lost their uncle. Bobby was a dear friend of mine, so it wasn't really the same level as they were, but still it was awful, and sad. I was just as hurt as they were.

They were both giving each other side glances. Sam was clenching his hands. And I was reeling it all in.

Week Two

I finally decided to pick myself up and at least shower. I still hadn't gotten out of my black shimmering dress I wore for the date I was on with Dick Roman. That was my first mistake. I should have listened to my instincts. Then I wouldn't be here in this awful mess. I decided to go shopping at the local thrift store to buy some clothes. I at least had money with me in my purse. These monsters don't care about money so that was a good thing at least. I picked up at least a week's worth of clothing and a small backpack at the store to put it all in. I wasn't sure how long I was going to be staying here. It was clear that I couldn't go back home. Dick found me at the café and my co-workers had no clue who the eff he really was. I also bought the necessities like soap, toothpaste, etc.

I came out of the shower dressed in jeans and a flannel plaid purple shirt. I tied up an old pair of boots I found from the thrift store and made sure they stayed on correctly. And then I wrapped my hair up around a messy bun. I looked in the mirror. Half decent was better than being no decent at all.

I came down the stairs and saw that Dean was staring at the clipboard and drinking again. Sam was washing the dishes.

He finished and then looked up and saw me. He eyed me up and down before he took out an address book from the drawer and opened it. Dean pinned an article on the wall in front of him that he'd been working on all this time. Sam took out three duffle bags and set them on the table. He took out a beer from the refrigerator. I noticed that Dean had several articles about Dick Roman on the wall. He'd become obsessed; especially with the numbers that Bobby gave the boys.

"Dean, you know, um, I wonder if- if we, I mean, should we be telling people?" Sam asked. "I mean, people he knew?"

There was the million dollar question that was on all of our minds.

"How long ago did I give Frank these numbers? It's been a few weeks, right? What, is he nuts, or is he just being rude?" Dean asked. "And we gave him a fake identity for Miss-I-Go-On-Dates-with-the most influential over here to hopefully not have any traces on her. I mean it can't be that long!" Dean exclaimed.

I rolled my eyes. "For the last time, I didn't know what he was, okay?"

"Well, you're the psychic," Dean said.

"No, not like that. I don't detect monsters, Dean. Besides, it's more like tarot and palm readings," I added. "My visions no longer come to me since yellow-eyes died."

"Probably both, Dean, I-I got to ask you a question," Sam said once our bickering was over with.

"Unless, of course, something happened to him," Dean said. "He can't get to the phone because a Leviathan ate his face."

"Yeah, also a possibility," Sam nodded.

"We should go check on him," Dean said.

"Dean, do you want to call Bobby's people or not?" Sam asked.

Dean frowned. "Why, why is that our job?"

"Because who else is gonna do it?" Sam asked.

"I'm not calling anybody," Dean said. "If you want to, you go right ahead."

"I don't want to call anybody," Sam said. "You kidding me?"

A phone started ringing in one of the duffle bags.

"Well, I'm not getting it."

Sam walked over towards it and took out the phone. "Hello?"

"Is Bobby Singer there?"

"Uh, no. He's uh, it's not, but I'm a friend of his," Sam said.

Dean picked up a flask that was in the duffel bag, sniffed it, and put the lid back on.

"My dad asked me to call Bobby Singer specifically," she said.

"He's…not here, but look if you need s-"

The girl hung up.

"Who was it?" Dean asked.

"Just some kid," Sam replied. I frowned slightly. A kid?

"For Bobby? Girl Scout Cookies?" Dean asked.

"I think maybe…"

Dean picked up a full bottle of beer from the table.

"Maybe a-a hunter's kid? I mean, she sounded pretty scared. You know, I have a caller ID. Maybe we should go find her. We – we can check on her," Sam said.

"What about Frank?" Dean asked. "And Kaylee can't be with us. She needs to be far far away from here."

"I agree, but Dean, I think we should go find this girl first," Sam said. "Kaylee can stay here for now. It's safe."

"What? No way!" I exclaimed.

"Sam, Frank's been working on the numbers that Bobby spent his last breath on, and you want to back-burner that?"

Sam looked at Dean. Silence fell over them.

"Fine. You go check out girl scout. Kaylee and I will find Frank," Dean said.

"Fine. But you know what? On one condition – if Frank is just spinning his wheels, then you bail out on crazy and come meet me."

Dean looked at the beer bottle in his hand, now completely empty. "And thanks for drinking my entire beer."

"I didn't touch your beer. Mine's right there. You probably drank it without noticing," Sam said.

"Right," Dean sighed. "Ready to go?"

"I guess," I nodded. Not liking where this was going.

~*SPN*~