Hey guys, sorry it took awhile. My beta hasn't been responding, but I decided I needed to upload the chapter anyways, for you peoples. Sorry for any grammar mistakes. BTW, mentions of drug use, because it's Frank.

Please R&R :)

Free Will plus One

Chapter 13

I stared at the road ahead of us from my place in the front seat. We had a while to go, three hours to be exact. I am officially bored.

The naproxen, although it kept me sober, it was not doing the job that it should be. But I guess it was keeping my pain manageable, so that was good.

Bobby was staring blankly at the road in front of him, silent at the minute. I wondered what he might be thinking about.

'I gotta say,' I thought absent-mindedly, 'the car isn't that bad. I mean, sure it's an old van, but it runs great, and it has air conditioning.'

"Just to let you know," Bobby told me suddenly, turning down the music. "I don't know if ya' knew this, but this guy is bat shit crazy."

"What?" I joked, "Like, screaming at stop signs crazy?"

He snorted, "You'll see."

"This should be interesting," I mused.

He shook his head and turned up the radio again.

_Line break_

"Knock, knock!" Bobby shouted as he banged on the door.

There was a rustle from inside before someone yelled, "No one's home!"

I narrowed my eyes in confusion, 'Seriously?'

But Bobby didn't look fazed. "Oh, is that right? Well, I'll have to leave, and take the good stuff somewhere else."

I've never seen a door open so fast in my life.

The man was no doubt the younger version of Frank that I've seen on TV, but something was different. He had on a crappy T-shirt and sweatpants. They were full of holes.

He stared at us with expectant eyes.

"Well?!" he demanded.

"I'll give you what's in this bag if you help us," he told the man.

Frank nodded vigorously, "Yeah, sure!"

"Glad we sorted that out." Bobby pulled a paper bag out of his pocket and handed it to the guy. It wasn't shaped like there was a bottle in the bag, but there was definitely something in there, but it wasn't alcohol.

I questioned if I wanted to know… but I knew.

It was clear. His eyes were sunken in, and he was twitching slightly. From the way he was looking at us, you could tell his mind was running a million miles per hour.

'Yes,' I told myself. 'I know what's in the bag.'

Grinning, Frank shoved the small bag into his pocket. "So, what do you want?"

"Well," Bobby said, "I need a favor."

"Uh huh, and?" He asked, leaning his head jerkily.

"I have a colleague, Rebecca," he motioned to me, "Who possesses some very sensitive information on her what-cha-ma-call-it, and we need help."

"I think I'm gonna need more information than that," he said. I noticed that he talked a lot faster than he did in the show.

"Yeah," I nodded. "You probably are… Can we come in?" I asked.

I felt conscious of the gun in my jacket.

He rolled his eyes before nodding and moving to let us through. "Don't touch my stuff."

We let ourselves through, and I eyeballed the place. Once I had entered, it was very clear what was in the bag… that was, if the contents of his coffee table was anything to go by. There were several empty syringes. I frowned, deciding to not comment.

The rest of the place was messy and had a deserted feel. There was graffiti on every wall, and the only real setup was the computers and other equipment against the far wall.

He threw himself down on the beat up couch, "So, sensitive information. Start talking."

I nodded, deciding to do the talking. Bobby wasn't the best with technology, and we all knew it.

"So, exactly how much do you know about the supernatural?" I asked.

He shrugged, running his right hand absent-mindedly over his arm. "I'd like to think I know a hell of a lot."

"Well then… here goes nothing," I said. "I'm from another universe."

He seemed to do a double take. "Come again?"

"You heard me."

I shrugged and held out my phone for him to take, "Take a look at this."

But I didn't quite trust him, and I certainly didn't want him to break my phone like he did Sam's laptop… So I let my intimidating side out.

"By the way," I added, almost like an afterthought. My voice was hostile, "If you break my phone, I will kill you and burn your bones in Bobby's back yard."

He snorted. "I'm guessing this is your only copy of the data?"

He didn't wait for my reply, he just started looking at it, turning it over in his hands. "What the hell is this?" he asked. "This isn't like any phone I've ever seen."

I shrugged, "That's because it's not any phone you've seen. It's an IPhone 5. It slips my mind if it's an IPhone 5s or an IPhone 5c, but it doesn't come out until 2013 at least."

Whatever he expected me to say, this obviously wasn't it. His eyes snapped up.

This is gonna take a while…

Sure enough: "Who do you work for?! Who sent you? CIA? NSA? WHO?!"

"…uh, no one… well," I said nervously. "It's a long story."

"Long story huh?" He glared at me. "Then start talking!" he yelled pulling a gun a lot bigger than mine out from under the couch cushion.

Shit!

"I-I'm not here to do any harm," I stuttered. "T-to be honest I d-don't even know why I'm here… Sir."

"Hmmm… but you know who sent you?" He asked with narrowed eyes, gun still pointed at my face.

"C-Castiel… he's an angel," I answered. "H-he stormed into my apartment, and said I had some kind of purpose here. And then he put two fingers on my forehead and I woke up here."

He scoffed, "As if. What use could you possibly have?!"

…Wait, why didn't he say I was crazy about the angel thing… Does he know about angels?

"Uh…" I hesitated, "In the world I'm from, all this is a TV show called Supernatural."

"Oh, so now you're from the future, and another universe?" He asked, paranoid, "Tell me why I shouldn't shoot you now."

"Frank!" Bobby announced, trying to get Franks attention. Oh, thank god!

"Ya' won't kill her, because you owe me," Bobby told the other man.

Frank nodded, put the gun down, and was silent for a second… "And another thing! If that's your only copy of the data then why the hell haven't you made another?! You stupid girl!"

"I don't know Frank, besides almost dying? And the fact that I'm in a TV show?" I snarked, "I've been a little busy."

_Line Break_

Sam glared out the window, grumbling under his breath. His brother shot him a questioning look before turning his eyes back to the road.

"Penny for your thoughts, Sammy?" Asked Dean.

Sam shot him a bitchface, "Don't call me Sammy."

He raised an eyebrow, "Seriously dude, what's up?"

Sam shot him a pointed look, "What do you think?"

Dean sighed and slouched a little in his seat, tapping the steering wheel. He turned down the radio, "Dude, what would you have done, huh? Ask yourself that. You don't mess with that shit."

Sam just rolled his eyes and went back to staring out the window.

Dean's phone beeped.

He quickly flipped it open. It was from an unknown number. It read:

'Hi, dis is Becca.'

He rolled his eyes and put his phone back in its place in the ash tray. It beeped again a few minutes later.

'Am txting from cheap ass burn-out phone. Frank gave it to me. He is now poking my phone with a screwdriver, or some shit.'