Supernatural Series Rewrite- Season 7

Adventures in Babysitting: Part Three

By the time you got up in the early hours of the morning, Frank still didn't find anything. Joanna and Dean are still asleep, so all there is left to do is drink coffee and sit in silence. A few hours pass by until you see a black car pull to the empty field. Right at this moment, Dean snores too loudly and wakes himself up. He teeters on the chair before regaining his balance.

"How long was I out?"

"About thirty-six hours."

"What? Why didn't you wake me?"

"We didn't need you," you shrug and take the first sip of your third cup of coffee.

"Come see this. This is where it gets good."

Dean moves closer on the chair with wheels to see what Frank has. He zooms on a woman that's walking across the field. She is carrying documents and a walkie-talkie.

"Check out Sarah Palin."

"Who is she?" you ask.

"Amanda Willer." Frank hits a key on the keyboard and Amanda's driver's license, Richard Roman Enterprises security badge, and a close-up photo of her appears on screen. "Surprise, surprise–she works for Richard Roman."

Frank hits another key, and the screen switches to three men in uniforms walking toward Amanda.

"What was she doing?"

"Being a naughty, bossy little girl."

"Well, I hate to ask for that in the non-porno version," Dean cringes.

"They're surveying. They're getting ready to build something. We don't know what."

"How do we find out?"

"We watch. Patience, grasshopper."

"Yeah, patience and I aren't exactly on terms," Dean rolls his eyes.

He barely looks your way, but you see it. You know you're not being fair, but you can't stop no matter how hard you try.

"Well, then go out and kill something or whatever you kids do to blow off steam." Frank sees the look you and Dean are giving him, and he rolls his eyes. "What, you don't like my suggestion?"

"I don't think you're in a position to be giving suggestions, alright? I think you're one tinfoil hat away from a rubber room."

"Did I mention you two look awful?"

"Yeah, my dad fucking died because of Dick Roman. I watched him get shot, Frank. I saw the smug look on his face when he did it. So fuck you," you growl.

"Here's my advice you didn't ask for: quit."

"What?!" you and Dean yell.

"You want to keep going?"

"We want Dick Roman on a spit," Dean shouts.

"But you're gonna drive yourself into the ground first. Good plan."

"We're not gonna quit," Dean says after a pause. "It's not even an option. I'm not gonna walk out on my brother or Y/N, and I know she won't either."

"Okay, then, fine. Do what I did."

"What? Go native? Stock up on C-rations?" you snap.

"No, cupcake. What I did when I was twenty-six and came home to find my wife and two kids gutted on the floor." His words floor you, and you suddenly understand Frank a little better. "Decide to be fine till the end of the week. Make yourself smile because you're alive and that's your job. Then do it again next week. You two have a daughter, so you do this for her. Smile for her."