You hit the road early enough to arrive at the diner around noon.
Your car, a 1972 Jeep, parked right next to what looked like an old Impala. Someone had good taste in vehicles.
Dean had told you what him and his brother looked like, though it didn’t really matter. You could tell who they were as soon as you stepped foot in the diner.
The two men were both in plaid, one had dark brown hair and the other was on the blonder side.
You slowly approached the booth they were in. Being hunters, their guard was up and they immediately noticed you walking toward them.
The longer haired and taller one turned to greet you with a nod as his brother remained stoic in the moment. Hunters never were the type to make friends.
They were in the booth next to each other, allowing you to scoot in the seat across from them.
You stuck your hand out in a welcoming gesture as they both shook it.
“Let’s get straight to the point. I need help from a hunter, and actually, a Winchester to be exact.”
Sam and Dean share a questioning glance.
“What for?” You supposed Sam isn’t the one you talked on the phone with, because he seemed far more friendly than his brother.
Your hand reaches down into the pocket of your jacket and grips tight onto a piece of paper. You pull it out and place it on the table.
It was a picture of the man in your dreams, drawn by you so the Winchesters might be of more help.
You place a finger on the drawing.
“Do you know this man?”
Dean’s eyes widen as he tries to make sense of what he’s seeing.
“Yes, we actually do. His name’s Gabriel, the archangel Gabriel.”
You hit the road early enough to arrive at the diner around noon.
Your car, a 1972 Jeep, parked right next to what looked like an old Impala. Someone had good taste in vehicles.
Dean had told you what him and his brother looked like, though it didn’t really matter. You could tell who they were as soon as you stepped foot in the diner.
The two men were both in plaid, one had dark brown hair and the other was on the blonder side.
You slowly approached the booth they were in. Being hunters, their guard was up and they immediately noticed you walking toward them.
The longer haired and taller one turned to greet you with a nod as his brother remained stoic in the moment. Hunters never were the type to make friends.
They were in the booth next to each other, allowing you to scoot in the seat across from them.
You stuck your hand out in a welcoming gesture as they both shook it.
“Let’s get straight to the point. I need help from a hunter, and actually, a Winchester to be exact.”
Sam and Dean share a questioning glance.
“What for?” You supposed Sam isn’t the one you talked on the phone with, because he seemed far more friendly than his brother.
Your hand reaches down into the pocket of your jacket and grips tight onto a piece of paper. You pull it out and place it on the table.
It was a picture of the man in your dreams, drawn by you so the Winchesters might be of more help.
You place a finger on the drawing.
“Do you know this man?”
Dean’s eyes widen as he tries to make sense of what he’s seeing.
“Yes, we actually do. His name’s Gabriel, the archangel Gabriel.”
That name… it wasn’t all too rare. Perhaps it was the man in your dream’s last name.
No, it couldn’t be. That wouldn’t aid him. Winchester must be someone you can pinpoint to help.
But where would you even start?
If your hunches were right about his… supernatural-ness, then you had to talk to a professional.
–
“Hello? Bobby?” You wait patiently for the old man to answer. There’s a short silence before another man responds.
“Who’s this?”
His voice is deep, rough, and definitely not Bobby’s. You hadn’t talked to the old hunter in years.
“Where’s Bobby? I need to talk to him.”
Another silent moment.
The man on the other end cleared his throat.
“Bobby’s dead. This is Dean Winchester. Now who is this?”
Bobby was dead? And… Winchester? It couldn’t possibly be.
“This is Y/n L/n. I-I’m sorry about Bobby, but you’re just the person I’m looking for. And I could really use your help.”
–
You’d coversed enough with Dean to know that he and his brother were friends of Bobby, hunters from Kansas, where you were fortunately located. You set up a time to meet them in a diner about an hour or two out from your house.
Things like what you wanted to discuss couldn’t just be handled over the phone.
You packed a bag with essential items: clothes, toiletries, a gun with wardings on the bullets…
One could never be too careful in dealing with hunters. Especially ones who were close with Bobby.
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