Hunting 101
Title: Hunting 101
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine except the words on the screen. I wish I could say otherwise, but I can’t, more’s the pity. That Kripke’s one lucky bastard.
Rating: PG-13, to be on the safe side.
Summary: Everybody has to start somewhere.
Author’s Note: Set in the same AU as Down a Parallel Road.
March 1995
The silence in the truckcab was deafening. Bobby refused to glance over at the kid seated on the other side of the bench. If he did he was liable to say something he didn’t mean, start something he couldn’t stop, and he was just rational enough to not layer one more damnfool action on top of all of the others that had made this evening one he wasn’t likely to forget any time soon. That girl had aged him ten years in less than a day, he was sure of it, ten years of worry and anger and fear that hit him so hard he was surprised he still knew how to breathe after it passed.
Plus, damn it, he couldn’t help the bare ember of pride he felt underneath it all. She’d gotten the job done as well as anyone he knew. She was going to be someone to be reckoned with, if he didn’t kill her himself before the night was through.
The truck rolled to a stop beside the house. Her door flew open and was slammed shut at the very instant that it was safe to get out. Bobby sat there for a minute and just breathed as she pounded her way across the gravel and into the house. She’d gotten so damn prickly the minute she’d turned fifteen. It was like a switch had been flipped in her brain and he wasn’t sure from one second to the next which side of her he was going to see. All her old tells had flat-out disappeared. Course, it didn’t help that she could still read him like nobody’s business. He should’ve known that something was up what with the way she’d been downright agreeable for over a week, all happy smiles and enthusiastic questions. Girl had played him like a fiddle and he hadn’t even seen it till almost too late.
He levered himself out of the truck and trudged towards the house. The door creaked as he opened it, sounding as tired and worn out as he felt. He wasn’t surprised to find her standing there, waiting for him with her arms crossed and a fierce expression on her face. This was something new and different too. Time was she would’ve worked to avoid a confrontation by all means necessary and now here she was outright courting one. Well, what had to be done had to be done. There was no getting around it.
He turned and closed the door, making sure to lock each and every last lock and carefully check the salt line sealed into the crevices and cracks right behind it. He could feel her seething behind him and he left her to it. A little stewing never did anyone any harm, hell, might even give her time to think about how damn reckless she’d been.
He almost snorted. Yeah, fat chance of that.
He turned back around and faced her, taking his advantage and speaking before she could get a word in edgewise. “You’re grounded.” It sounded so simple when put like that, when he really wanted to tan her hide and lock her in her room until she was sixty. Hell, if he was going to be stuck raising this kid then he damn sure was going to raise her right.
“What?!” Rachel squawked, eyes wide like this was the last thing she’d expected, like he was being the unreasonable one. “Because of me those people are alive and that ghost is toast. You can’t just ground me after all of that!”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing.” He didn’t raise his voice one bit but there was real steel in it now. He meant what he was saying and he saw that she knew it, even if that mulish look was still pasted to her face. “You risked your life and the lives of all the people in that house just because you were stupid enough to think you could do anything on your own. You lied to me, you lied to your teachers and you lied to that family. You all would’ve been dead if I weren’t nearly as dumb as you seem to think I am.”
She opened her mouth like she wanted to make some sort of argument but under all of that teenage attitude she knew he was right and nothing came out.
“So, yeah, you’re grounded.” He continued in that same even, reasonable tone that brooked no arguments. “Your butt’ll be on that bus in the morning and straight on it again the minute the bell rings. No staying late with friends, no lurking around the library. I’ll have a list of chores for you to do every afternoon and you’ll do them all before you get dinner. When the weekend rolls around you won’t go haring off, you’ll stick around here and do whatever it is I think needs doing. And this’ll last for as long as I think it takes to get this all through your thick skull.”
Her eyes flashed with anger and rebellion for a long moment before her shoulders slumped in defeat. Girl was smart, she knew when she was beaten. Without the spit and vinegar to hold it up her head bowed and he could see the beginnings of a truly spectacular shiner swelling around her left eye. A surge of white-hot anger shot through him to see it. That ghost was damn lucky that nothing of it was left for him to come after.
“Now go on, go take care of that eye before it swells shut. We’re done here.”
She nodded quietly in response and made her way back to the kitchen. He slumped back against the door and forcibly restrained himself from banging his head against it. Teenagers were going to be the death of him, he was sure of it.
~~~
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine except the words on the screen. I wish I could say otherwise, but I can’t, more’s the pity. That Kripke’s one lucky bastard.
Rating: PG-13, to be on the safe side.
Summary: Everybody has to start somewhere.
Author’s Note: Set in the same AU as Down a Parallel Road.
March 1995
The silence in the truckcab was deafening. Bobby refused to glance over at the kid seated on the other side of the bench. If he did he was liable to say something he didn’t mean, start something he couldn’t stop, and he was just rational enough to not layer one more damnfool action on top of all of the others that had made this evening one he wasn’t likely to forget any time soon. That girl had aged him ten years in less than a day, he was sure of it, ten years of worry and anger and fear that hit him so hard he was surprised he still knew how to breathe after it passed.
Plus, damn it, he couldn’t help the bare ember of pride he felt underneath it all. She’d gotten the job done as well as anyone he knew. She was going to be someone to be reckoned with, if he didn’t kill her himself before the night was through.
The truck rolled to a stop beside the house. Her door flew open and was slammed shut at the very instant that it was safe to get out. Bobby sat there for a minute and just breathed as she pounded her way across the gravel and into the house. She’d gotten so damn prickly the minute she’d turned fifteen. It was like a switch had been flipped in her brain and he wasn’t sure from one second to the next which side of her he was going to see. All her old tells had flat-out disappeared. Course, it didn’t help that she could still read him like nobody’s business. He should’ve known that something was up what with the way she’d been downright agreeable for over a week, all happy smiles and enthusiastic questions. Girl had played him like a fiddle and he hadn’t even seen it till almost too late.
He levered himself out of the truck and trudged towards the house. The door creaked as he opened it, sounding as tired and worn out as he felt. He wasn’t surprised to find her standing there, waiting for him with her arms crossed and a fierce expression on her face. This was something new and different too. Time was she would’ve worked to avoid a confrontation by all means necessary and now here she was outright courting one. Well, what had to be done had to be done. There was no getting around it.
He turned and closed the door, making sure to lock each and every last lock and carefully check the salt line sealed into the crevices and cracks right behind it. He could feel her seething behind him and he left her to it. A little stewing never did anyone any harm, hell, might even give her time to think about how damn reckless she’d been.
He almost snorted. Yeah, fat chance of that.
He turned back around and faced her, taking his advantage and speaking before she could get a word in edgewise. “You’re grounded.” It sounded so simple when put like that, when he really wanted to tan her hide and lock her in her room until she was sixty. Hell, if he was going to be stuck raising this kid then he damn sure was going to raise her right.
“What?!” Rachel squawked, eyes wide like this was the last thing she’d expected, like he was being the unreasonable one. “Because of me those people are alive and that ghost is toast. You can’t just ground me after all of that!”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing.” He didn’t raise his voice one bit but there was real steel in it now. He meant what he was saying and he saw that she knew it, even if that mulish look was still pasted to her face. “You risked your life and the lives of all the people in that house just because you were stupid enough to think you could do anything on your own. You lied to me, you lied to your teachers and you lied to that family. You all would’ve been dead if I weren’t nearly as dumb as you seem to think I am.”
She opened her mouth like she wanted to make some sort of argument but under all of that teenage attitude she knew he was right and nothing came out.
“So, yeah, you’re grounded.” He continued in that same even, reasonable tone that brooked no arguments. “Your butt’ll be on that bus in the morning and straight on it again the minute the bell rings. No staying late with friends, no lurking around the library. I’ll have a list of chores for you to do every afternoon and you’ll do them all before you get dinner. When the weekend rolls around you won’t go haring off, you’ll stick around here and do whatever it is I think needs doing. And this’ll last for as long as I think it takes to get this all through your thick skull.”
Her eyes flashed with anger and rebellion for a long moment before her shoulders slumped in defeat. Girl was smart, she knew when she was beaten. Without the spit and vinegar to hold it up her head bowed and he could see the beginnings of a truly spectacular shiner swelling around her left eye. A surge of white-hot anger shot through him to see it. That ghost was damn lucky that nothing of it was left for him to come after.
“Now go on, go take care of that eye before it swells shut. We’re done here.”
She nodded quietly in response and made her way back to the kitchen. He slumped back against the door and forcibly restrained himself from banging his head against it. Teenagers were going to be the death of him, he was sure of it.
~~~