Homecoming // Supernatural Fanfiction

5. Two AM Blues

After two days of being on the road, with an occasional break and rest at some motel, I arrived at Bobby Singer's junkyard, or "Singer Salvage Yard". Driving here in one go wouldn't have been smart, seeing how tired I was when I left Geneseo, even though it was only a seven hour drive. I smiled to myself as I shut the engine of my car off, and looked around at all the beat up cars. Hey, my love for cars had to be coming from someone, right?

I opened my door, stepped out and slammed it shut again. "Home sweet home," I muttered to myself. I had missed this place, more then you would hear me admit out loud. I walked up to the front door and knocked pretty hard. Knowing Bobby, he was probably sleeping. Or drunk. Or maybe even both. Nothing happened on the other side of the door, so I knocked again, to no avail. I sighed as I got out my lock pick and opened the door myself.

Stepping inside the house, a familiar scent washed over me. Strong alcohol, fuel, and the scent of unwashed clothes. It wasn't a pleasant odor, but I had gotten used to it. It was the smell of this house and the smell of Bobby. Speaking of Bobby, last time I broke into his house he almost blasted me away with his shotgun. Where is that old bastard uncle of mine?

"Bobby! I'm homeee! Don't shoot me please!" I yelled and then waited. No response. I shrugged and walked into the living room, looking around. Books were scattered everywhere. He really needed to order and sort these things. Or get someone to do it for him, but I don't know anyone crazy enough about books who would.

I walked over to the fridge in the kitchen, knowing there would be beer in there, and I grabbed one before crashing on an old dusty couch.

Knowing Bobby, he would probably kind of mind it if I would kick my feet up on the coffee table. But then again, he'd also mind me breaking into his house, so I kicked my feet up on the coffee table, after opening my beer and then took a sip out if it. You know what they say; the beer tastes better at home. Although this technically wasn't my home, I'd like to think it kind of was.

I heard car engines and the sound of tires on gravel outside, so I figured that he was back now. I smiled to myself. His reaction to seeing me on his couch was going to be hilarious.

Multiple car doors were slammed shut. Shit. Other people. Why didn't I think of that? Oh wait, I know why. He's not that much of a people's person. This should be... interesting. 

The front door opened and I heard Bobby's voice coming closer. Two pair of footsteps followed him. When he appeared in the door frame and saw me, he froze in his tracks and stopped talking mid sentence. I smiled a toothy grin and waved at my uncle. His shoulders slumped a bit and he sighed.

"Oh balls," He mumbled, loud enough to hear for me though. The two other guys who were with him appeared behind him, curious as to why Bobby had stopped and swore. And OF COURSE, it were the Winchesters. Who the fuck else? I had hoped they'd be gone by now.

"Hi uncle Bobby. And noobs," I said casually and took another sip of my beer.

They looked at me with surprise before pulling out their guns, pointing them at me. I rolled my eyes and just stared at them.

"Who are you? The truth this time," Dean said to me. Bobby scoffed and I laughed.

"Put your damn guns down before you shoot my niece," He said as he entered the den and chucked the duffel bag he was carrying on his desk. Sam and Dean stared at the older man, baffled.

"Niece?!" They both said at the same time as they lowered their guns, and then looked at me, examining me. Probably trying to find any resemblance between me and him.

"What are you doing here anyway Kendall?" He asked me as he approached me and then stopped right in front of me, swatting my feet off the table. I smirked.