𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝑮𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓: Huntress, Youngest of the Famed Winchesters, Certifiable Badass.
Armed with a double name and a killer smile, Campbell Grace is in for one hell of a ride when her eldest brother Dean picks her up fr...
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Leave // Post Malone
GOODBYE SAMMY
May 2001
"YOU'RE KIDDING, right?" Campbell Grace stared back at Sam in disbelief. Her brother held his composure, unable to give a verbal response for fear of breaking down.
"I know, Elle, but this is it. This might be my only shot," Sam could feel tears were brewing in his eyes as he clutched his Stanford acceptance letter, "I've gotta go."
"Have you told Dean? Or Dad?"
"You know you're the only person who would understand. Dean and Dad," Sam let out a pathetic laugh, "all they care about it avenging Mom's death. I get it, I really do, but there's just more to life than hunting, Campbell Grace."
The youngest sibling remained silent, pondering the fact of living a life without her best friend.
"Sam, you know I'll always support you. No matter what you decide to do, but you need to tell Dean before he finds out some other way."
"I know, I know," Sam huffed, "just don't say anything till I do."
Campbell nodded her head in agreement.
☾
Once again, Campbell Grace had been ordered to stay back from the hunt and research. Despite her and her brothers' protests, John still didn't believe that his 16-year-old was ready to hunt with her entire family. So there she sat, crammed into a crummy motel room with a lore book in her lap. The TV hummed in the background like white noise as Campbell flipped aimlessly through the pages. All knowledge about ghouls had gone out of the window as the idea of a cheeseburger crossed her mind.
Although, Campbell was quickly knocked out of her daydream by the binging of her cellphone. "Make it snappy; I'm almost done with this goddamn book," she breathed as she answered the call, expecting Dean to be on the other line.
"Campbell Grace," her father's voice came booming through the other end of the line, "get over here, now. Shit's hit the fan."
"But dad-"
"Did I stutter? Old Hill Cemetery just off of Elm Drive."
"Yes, sir," Campbell muttered as she tucked her beretta into her waistband and took off.
Luckily her boys had taken the impala, so John's truck sat waiting for her in the motel parking lot. She threw the gear in drive and punched it, speeding like a bat out of hell. The tires let out an eery screech as she swerved into the cemetery - and by the looks of it, just in time.
