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May. 30th, 2008 01:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
liptonrm_backupI'm in such a good mood that I want to post some more of my 'Bobby had a kid' AU. Cause that's how I roll. ;-)
We're skipping ahead a couple few years, as this part takes place a few days after the season two finale. Plz to enjoy.
May 2007
She first got wind that something wasn’t right when she was on the road going from Sonora to Phoenix. Her phone beeped at her, its way of signaling both its return to the land of reception and a message waiting for her in the digital realm.
It was Bobby, which was strange. She’d told him that she was headed out of cell range before she’d hiked into the desert and it hadn’t been nearly long enough for him to start worrying. A knot started forming as she tapped in the password. Whatever he had to say couldn’t be good.
There were actually two messages. The first was gruff and to the point: the Roadhouse was blown to hell and gone and demons were gathering in Wyoming. He and Ellen and the Winchester boys were headed in to check it out. Her breath caught at the strained, “Take care of yourself, girl,” that capped it off.
He didn’t expect to get out alive.
She couldn’t breathe as she waited for the next message. It was succinct. “We made it out. Call me.”
She slapped the phone shut and pressed down on the accelerator.
She drove straight through, only stopping to piss and fill up on gas and caffeine. She couldn’t remember that tone ever being in Bobby’s voice before, not ever. He’d never had to say goodbye. She needed to get back and she needed to get there now.
It was still strange to pull up to the house and not hear dogs barking. There was a beat-up old pick-up truck parked by the door. She pulled her dusty Bronco around back and jumped out almost before the engine cut off.
The world tilted in that way that told her she’d better get some horizontal time, asap, or her body’d take care of it for her. She grabbed a hold of the bumper for a second to acclimatize herself to not moving.
The screen door slammed open. Ellen Harvelle stepped out, a giant hand-gun held parallel with her right leg and a pinched, wary look in her eyes. She grinned when she caught sight of who it was.
“Rachel, sweetie. You look like hell.” Rachel snorted in reply and moved in for a quick hug.
“You sure had the old man in there worried,” Ellen said with a softly chiding smile.
“Yeah, well, he wasn’t the only one.” Rachel’s voice sounded gritty in her own ears. Running on coffee and fear would do that. “What’s this I hear about demons in Wyoming?”
Ellen took a step towards the truck and gestured with her head towards the house. “I’ll let Bobby fill you in. I’ve gotta meet up with Jo in Colorado. That girl’s impatient at the best times.”
Rachel nodded and grabbed her shoulder in farewell as she walked past her. Bobby was standing in the doorway. He looked tired, the lines around his eyes suggested that he’d been staying up late squinting at small-lettered texts.
He stared at her for a long minute before grinning, losing 10 years at least. “You gave me a scare.”
Rachel grinned and scrubbed a hand through her hair. “Yeah, well, look who’s talking. That was quite the message you left. Near gave me a heart attack.” She was so tired she couldn’t rein in the tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “Try not to do that again.”
She wasn’t sure who moved first but in a blink’s time she was caught up in a fierce hug. He was real and he was alive. Thank God.
He stepped back and she stepped into the shadowed house. It looked the same except for the extra paper plates and bottles scattered among the books.
“Been entertaining?” She asked.
“You might say that. You sticking around for long?”
“At least long enough to get some shut-eye. Wouldn’t want to wreck the car you helped me put back together.”
“I should hope not. Be a waste of a good piece of machinery. Ellen’s been staying in your room so I’m sure it’s still in one piece.”
“Thank goodness. You never can tell when the Winchester boys are hanging around.”
“Yeah.” But instead of humor a strange, pained look was on his face.
“What is it? Are they all right?”
Bobby sighed. “As all right as they ever were.” He shook his head before she could say anything. “No, you’re beat. Get some sleep. I can fill you in later.”
She nodded, exhaustion falling on her like a weight. “Yeah. Okay.” She turned to go upstairs but stopped mid-step and looked back. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“You too,” Bobby smiled fondly. She smiled back and turned to trudge up the stairs. It was good to be home.
~~~
We're skipping ahead a couple few years, as this part takes place a few days after the season two finale. Plz to enjoy.
May 2007
She first got wind that something wasn’t right when she was on the road going from Sonora to Phoenix. Her phone beeped at her, its way of signaling both its return to the land of reception and a message waiting for her in the digital realm.
It was Bobby, which was strange. She’d told him that she was headed out of cell range before she’d hiked into the desert and it hadn’t been nearly long enough for him to start worrying. A knot started forming as she tapped in the password. Whatever he had to say couldn’t be good.
There were actually two messages. The first was gruff and to the point: the Roadhouse was blown to hell and gone and demons were gathering in Wyoming. He and Ellen and the Winchester boys were headed in to check it out. Her breath caught at the strained, “Take care of yourself, girl,” that capped it off.
He didn’t expect to get out alive.
She couldn’t breathe as she waited for the next message. It was succinct. “We made it out. Call me.”
She slapped the phone shut and pressed down on the accelerator.
She drove straight through, only stopping to piss and fill up on gas and caffeine. She couldn’t remember that tone ever being in Bobby’s voice before, not ever. He’d never had to say goodbye. She needed to get back and she needed to get there now.
It was still strange to pull up to the house and not hear dogs barking. There was a beat-up old pick-up truck parked by the door. She pulled her dusty Bronco around back and jumped out almost before the engine cut off.
The world tilted in that way that told her she’d better get some horizontal time, asap, or her body’d take care of it for her. She grabbed a hold of the bumper for a second to acclimatize herself to not moving.
The screen door slammed open. Ellen Harvelle stepped out, a giant hand-gun held parallel with her right leg and a pinched, wary look in her eyes. She grinned when she caught sight of who it was.
“Rachel, sweetie. You look like hell.” Rachel snorted in reply and moved in for a quick hug.
“You sure had the old man in there worried,” Ellen said with a softly chiding smile.
“Yeah, well, he wasn’t the only one.” Rachel’s voice sounded gritty in her own ears. Running on coffee and fear would do that. “What’s this I hear about demons in Wyoming?”
Ellen took a step towards the truck and gestured with her head towards the house. “I’ll let Bobby fill you in. I’ve gotta meet up with Jo in Colorado. That girl’s impatient at the best times.”
Rachel nodded and grabbed her shoulder in farewell as she walked past her. Bobby was standing in the doorway. He looked tired, the lines around his eyes suggested that he’d been staying up late squinting at small-lettered texts.
He stared at her for a long minute before grinning, losing 10 years at least. “You gave me a scare.”
Rachel grinned and scrubbed a hand through her hair. “Yeah, well, look who’s talking. That was quite the message you left. Near gave me a heart attack.” She was so tired she couldn’t rein in the tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “Try not to do that again.”
She wasn’t sure who moved first but in a blink’s time she was caught up in a fierce hug. He was real and he was alive. Thank God.
He stepped back and she stepped into the shadowed house. It looked the same except for the extra paper plates and bottles scattered among the books.
“Been entertaining?” She asked.
“You might say that. You sticking around for long?”
“At least long enough to get some shut-eye. Wouldn’t want to wreck the car you helped me put back together.”
“I should hope not. Be a waste of a good piece of machinery. Ellen’s been staying in your room so I’m sure it’s still in one piece.”
“Thank goodness. You never can tell when the Winchester boys are hanging around.”
“Yeah.” But instead of humor a strange, pained look was on his face.
“What is it? Are they all right?”
Bobby sighed. “As all right as they ever were.” He shook his head before she could say anything. “No, you’re beat. Get some sleep. I can fill you in later.”
She nodded, exhaustion falling on her like a weight. “Yeah. Okay.” She turned to go upstairs but stopped mid-step and looked back. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“You too,” Bobby smiled fondly. She smiled back and turned to trudge up the stairs. It was good to be home.
~~~
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Date: 2008-06-01 12:23 am (UTC)I really like how you've blended Rachel in (again, re: OC's who are not Mary Sues, Rachel flows with the canon, the canon isn't bending for her)
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Date: 2008-06-01 05:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-03 10:08 am (UTC)I'll try my hardest to accomodate, like woah. =D
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Date: 2008-06-05 11:47 pm (UTC)Okay, totally giggling over the image of Bobby the Gossip now. *snorts* And that was probably way more of a brain-dump than you wanted. ;-)
Aaaah, the art of the OC. It's a discipline that's been neglected by fandom for too long. I think a renaissance is definitely in order.