Anna
Anna parked her bike. Carrying the long packages that hid her swords she showed Dean and Sam into the apartment.
"Sara and Danny have decided to spend some more time at Danny's apartment. You boys can borrow my room, I'll take the couch." Both men immediately protested.
"Anna we can't turn you out of your bed; you're already coming out of retirement for us. Take your bed." Sam insisted. Anna smiled and ruffled his hair.
"Short Stuff, I have an expanded bed in my room. You boys can share a bed, and I fit on that couch. My house, my rules." Dean snorts at Anna's grossly inaccurate nickname for his younger brother. He'd carried in the steamer trunk from the car. Setting it down he leaned against the wall.
"Sweetheart, we're about to run you deeper into the ground than you've gone since you retired, how many years ago? Four? Maybe more. Don't give us your bed." Anna resolutely crossed her arms.
"Semi retired." She said. Dean looks at her in confusion.
"Come again?"
"I semi retired about year ago. I didn't stop entirely. I just couldn't go on hunts the way I used to anymore. And Dean, I took you in Sam's kitchen the other day. I could do it again. Retired is dead boys." Dean looked confused as Sam's jaw dropped.
"But you're a double major... with minors... how the hell are you graduating this year?" Sam asked, the topic both confusing and mundane enough to help him get his mind off the fact that his clothing still smelled like smoke.
"Short stuff, I worked my ass off last year and all summer. It's how we met; remember?" Sam swallowed dryly. She gave him a sympathetic smile. She moved into the kitchen and brought out three glasses.
"I think tonight calls for top shelf, Short Stuff." She ruffled Sam's hair as she walked into her room. Dean and Sam exchanged glances.
"Short Stuff?" Dean sniggered. Sam shrugged.
"We aren't actually going to take her bed right?" Sam asked, ignoring his brother. Dean scoffed.
"No." Before Sam said anything else, Anna remerged with a bottle of an amber liquid. She poured liberal portions for each before capping it.
"Jess." She said quietly.
"Jess." Sam echoed. Dean just lifted his glass. They all took a sip. Anna relished the warm burn of her father's whiskey as it went down. She took the bottle and added it to the her trunk. She took another sip of the whiskey.
"I'm going to go make a phone call. More booze in that cabinet. Laundry machine is in that closet, bathroom is down that hall. Make yourselves at home." She pointed as she directed the boys around the apartment. Dean nodded as Sam seemed to get lost in the amber depths of his glass.
"Where did you get this whiskey?" Dean asked before she stepped out of the room. She paused, looking back at him. Her expression was completely blank, covering the raging wildfire of both painful and positive emotions his question unleashed.
"My father."