Mar. 31st, 2009
for
Mar. 31st, 2009 02:47 pmooc: a few days after this
Angeline arrived in South Dakota a few days after she heard the news about Dean's death. She didn't like leaving her daughter alone while she was still on life support, but she knew that with both parents out of commission, she and Sam were going to have to have a discussion about how her grandson was to be raised. She had quite a few concerns, given his breeding, and she knew it was either talk to Sam now, or barge in later, and she knew that sooner was better than later.
Adjusting the sunglasses on her face, she climbed out of the car she'd rented for the occasion and pulled the coat more tightly around herself. This little patch of America was almost artic compared to the warm, balmy heat of New Orleans, and she just shivered as she made her way to the door, knocking on it loudly before glancing around. She silently hoped for a moment that Sam was planning on getting a place of his own, because really -- a salvage yard was no place to raise a child.
It wasn't Sam who came to the door, but instead Bobby. He had heard the strange car pulling up in the gravel and grabbed his shotgun. It was resting just on the other side of the door when he opened it a bit, looking at the woman on the other side. "Can I help ya?" he asked, shifting his arm behind the door a bit to make sure that the gun was aimed correctly. He couldn't take any risks on demons coming after Sam or Dean's boy, especially not with how Sam was at the moment.
Angeline looked him over for a minute, before raising an eyebrow behind her sunglasses. "Is Sam Winchester here, or do I have the wrong Singer Salvage?"
"Sorry, don't know've any Sam Winchesters," Bobby stated easily. "There's another Singer Salvage though cross the state. Might be trying there."
( . . . )
Angeline arrived in South Dakota a few days after she heard the news about Dean's death. She didn't like leaving her daughter alone while she was still on life support, but she knew that with both parents out of commission, she and Sam were going to have to have a discussion about how her grandson was to be raised. She had quite a few concerns, given his breeding, and she knew it was either talk to Sam now, or barge in later, and she knew that sooner was better than later.
Adjusting the sunglasses on her face, she climbed out of the car she'd rented for the occasion and pulled the coat more tightly around herself. This little patch of America was almost artic compared to the warm, balmy heat of New Orleans, and she just shivered as she made her way to the door, knocking on it loudly before glancing around. She silently hoped for a moment that Sam was planning on getting a place of his own, because really -- a salvage yard was no place to raise a child.
It wasn't Sam who came to the door, but instead Bobby. He had heard the strange car pulling up in the gravel and grabbed his shotgun. It was resting just on the other side of the door when he opened it a bit, looking at the woman on the other side. "Can I help ya?" he asked, shifting his arm behind the door a bit to make sure that the gun was aimed correctly. He couldn't take any risks on demons coming after Sam or Dean's boy, especially not with how Sam was at the moment.
Angeline looked him over for a minute, before raising an eyebrow behind her sunglasses. "Is Sam Winchester here, or do I have the wrong Singer Salvage?"
"Sorry, don't know've any Sam Winchesters," Bobby stated easily. "There's another Singer Salvage though cross the state. Might be trying there."
( . . . )