(no subject)
It ain't like he'd ever shut his doors on people who needed refuge, especially in the middle of a damn zombie apocalypse, but Bobby was really starting to rethink his whole hospitality thing.
He'd known Giles for years. Sometimes hunters ran outside the usual circles for information, and he'd met him in the middle of a vampire hunt right about when he had just lost his wife. Who knew British folk knew how to take out a nest or two?
But old friends or not, Bobby was starting to rethink this whole thing. The farmhouse could hold a fair shre of folk, but damn.
A dozen teenage girls.
A dozen very loud, very giggly teenage girls.
He wasn't used to this. Hell, he'd basically helped raise Dean and Sam, but that had been different. That'd been more about keeping the two of them out of fist fights, keeping Dean out of his liquor cabinet, and keeping them from shooting up his old cars out back. He could handle that crap, but the whole damn walking slumber party crap had to go.
He wasn't alone though. Even Ellen had looked like she had wanted to pull her hair out the night before, playing mother hen to the girls proving a bigger task than any zombie attack. She'd joined him and Giles out on the porch, her shotgun at hand, and shared a beer with them as inside the girls hd gone about whatever the hell it was teenage girls did in groups.
It was gonna be a long ass apocalypse, he thought as he stood out on the land of the farm, tending to his car.
Dean rubbed at his eyes as they turned off the main road, the Impala kicking up dry earth as they started off in the direction Bobby had told them to head. It'd been a long three days on the road since New Orleans, since a simple case had turned into the goddamn apocalypse in a blink of an eye.
They'd restocked supplies in the last town, actually having to pay this time as the town was still somewhat active. Seemed most people there were arming themselves and stocking up on supplies, some were even headed to special military areas that had been set up. Safety zones, the radio called it.
Not like anywhere was actually safe though.
"As much as I love this car, I can't wait to get the hell out of it," he said, stretching his neck until it popped in relief.
"I second that. A lot," Sam muttered from the backseat, where Buffy was leaning up against him, legs pulled into the seat and head resting against his shoulder.
Sam watched as civilization disppeared out his window, becoming nothing but an open stretch of sandy earth, and he wondered what would happen once they got there. Would they just wait to make their final stand, guns ablazing? Or would they research the hell out the situation in hopes of finding a solution?
"At least we know Giles and them made it safe yesterday." Which meant Dawn was safe and sound, which meant Buffy didn't have to keep being in full worry mode. At least not about her sister's safety at least.