( Read more... )

Life had a way of repeating itself. This was a fact that could be proven by two completely unrelated events that seemed fated to reprise themselves once every twelve to fifteen years. The first was the horrifying yet seemingly harmless reappearance of bell bottom jeans into fashion. The second and significantly more dangerous was the slide and ( Read more... )

What was the saying? Like a bad penny - yeah, that was John Winchester alright. Bobby was laid out on a creeper underneath a ’62 Buick when he heard - no felt - the tell-tale rumble of Winchester’s Impala as it pulled slowly onto the lot, roaring one last time before the engine was cut.

A  moment later, the door to the Singer Salvage garage swung ( Read more... )

( Read more...Part Three )

The bell above the door announced his arrival even before he stepped into the establishment, but the dinner rush had the place buzzing and one new face among many wasn’t enough to stem the bartender’s flow. “Be right with you,” she called out, just barely acknowledging him.

He took a seat at the bar and watched her as she moved fluidly from the ( Read more... )

“What? No.”

Leaving Dean sputtering his denial, Sam scooted out of the room, stopping in front of his father.

“You ready?” John asked quietly.

“Yessir.”

“Good boy.” John gave Sam a wink, ruffled his hair in approval and nudged him on down the hallway. When Sam was gone and Dean’s argument had pittered out, John leaned into the bathroom, propping ( Read more... )

Bobby had lasted five months without being sucked back into the Winchesters’ world. It hadn’t been easy, either. Trying to avoid John meant actually keeping tabs on the man, and that, Bobby found out, was a lot like stalking.

Making sure he was out of town whenever the Winchesters ventured his direction was one thing, but it had become increasingly ( Read more... )

“That’s all you got? What the Hell good does that do me?”

Bobby had been pacing the floor for a good twenty minutes while he waited on the phone for his contact to dig up the information he needed from County Records. If he kept it up much longer, he’d have a path worn into the fifty-year-old linoleum. He stopped and leaned against the counter, ( Read more... )

( Read more...Epilogue )