so this is how the world ends...
The minute you find out what the hell is goin' on around there, you call me.
Those had been Bobby's last words as he and the others (and man, it was still weird to have the hunting circle now contain Buffy and Anya) loaded luggage into the trunk of the Impala. Bobby had a hunt of his own he needed to finish, but a hunter friend had left a rushed, nearly unintelligible message on his answering machine.
"Singer, you'll never believe...rising...it's insane...where the fuck are they coming from...you gotta let the others know...can't keep it contained...."
The message had ended with an abrupt click of the line disconnecting, and six hours later, they were on the road to a small town in Louisiana. Bobby had concerns about some voodoo gone wrong considering the location and the word "rising" and had sent them on a mission to check in on his hunter friend and help if needed.
The morning sun was just beginning to peek out from behind the horizon when the Imapala pulled into a gas station just outside the city limits. He sat at the pump for a moment, engine idling quietly, as he shifted gears into park. Dean glanced up in the rearview to see Sam and Buffy still unconscious in the back, Buffy's head on his brother's shoulder as Sam folded hismelf into something resembling a comfortable position in the back. To his right, Anya was curled up in the passenger seat ("I call shotgun!" being the first words out of her mouth before they had set out of Bobby's), knees pulled up to her chest and head resting against the headrest. He smiled a bit at her sleeping form before turning off the car and getting out to pump the gas.
***
The tank full, Dean walked into the shop, looking to get a good dose of caffeine to keep him going a little bit longer. They were about thirty minutes outside the house of Warren Fischer, Bobby's friend, and this would be the last pitstop between here and there. The bell above the door dinged, nearly echoing in the empty shop.
He paid no mind at first, figuring someone was probably stocking the back or hell taking a leak for all he knew. He gathered a handful of energy drinks, a couple of bags of chips, and a package of beef jerky. He tossed them on the counter near the register, hitting a hand against the counter to alert anyone to his presence.
"Hello?" he called out. He waited another minute. "Hey, paying customer out here."
He cocked an eyebrow at the silence, looking around the shop. "Yo, anyone home?" he called out.
Silence greeted him for a third time.
"Okay," he said, slowly gathering his items, "well, I'll just be going now." He looked around the shop one last time before backing out the door with his items.
He frowned as he got back into the Impala, arms still loaded with items. "Weird," he muttered to himself as he shoved the bags of chips and beef jerky onto the dash. He opened one energy drink for himself before placing the rest on the floorboards on the passenger side.
He turned the engine over again, the only sounds filling the car outside of Sam's (and maybe even Buffy's) snoring in the back. Hell, he'd let everyone sleep for now. It'd been a long couple of days.