It also has wee!Rachel - (wait…you’ve forgotten who Rachel is…okay, here). Since Rachel Nieland is a real character, there is no reason to use the “OFC” label. Or the “AU” label. This means I will only be posting this, or any of my SPretendN fics, at spretendn and here at my own journal. This by no means suggests you shouldn’t tell all your friends because frankly, if I have to be brainwashed, so should all of you. Good? Good.
I keep my Header Info under a cut, but if you read it, you may notice that I put up spoilers for episode 2.12 - “Once Upon a Time”. And other such things that amuse me endlessly and hopefully also makes the writers who created these characters very pleased.
The story of Rachel and Bobby and Family. With mentions of all three Winchesters. (guess I’ll warn for house fires and minor character death). PG-13 and 958 words.
Title: The Way Home
Author: The Artful Dodger / dodger_sister
Category: Angst, General, Drama, Tiny!Singer <--that’s Rachel.
Characters/Pairing: Rachel Nieland and Bobby Singer (with mentions of all three Winchesters - also very minor implied possible Dean/Rachel).
Warnings: Talk of house fires and minor character death.
Spoilers: Episode 2.12 - “Once Upon A Time”.
Summary: Rachel watched the house burn and take everything she loved away from her. And now Bobby was just supposed to leave her behind? - Or, How Rachel and Bobby Found Each Other.
Word Count: 958 words.
Date Written: 04/01/2010
Disclaimer: “Supernatural” is Eric Kripke’s and The CW’s. This story is mine and yet sadly, I make no money off it.
Feedback: Bring it. dodger_sister / TheArtofDodger@comcast.net
Author's Notes: Rachel Nieland is my hunter-girlfriend, for the record. I was trying to write up a post detailing all the reasons that make her so awesome and why I love her so much and why she should be in more episodes of Show. But much of her awesome history is wrapped up in her relationship with Bobby. So, I typed up the post and then deleted it, because it didn’t do her justice. Then I typed it again. And deleted it again. Then I decided that the way I write best, the way I convey things best, is through fic. So suddenly I was writing the story of Bobby Singer and Rachel Nieland in fic form. Also, Bobby is made of awesome and I will heart him forever. Just sayin’. Writing in Bobby’s voice was loads of fun. And yes, I know her last name is Nieland, but Tiny!Singer sounds better!
Dedication: To liptonrm, for generally being awesome. Need I say more?
They rarely fought but when they did, it was always about one thing. Her mother could put up with it herself, her mother-in-law’s obvious and disdainful racism, but for her children to be treated that way by their own grandmother was unacceptable to say the least. After one particularly nasty holiday dinner, Rachel’s dad had agreed. Enough was enough.
They would no longer be visiting. Her grandmother didn’t take the news well.
Rachel’s last memory, before the fire took everyone she loved, was her parents tucking her into bed for the night. With both her parents and her two younger brothers gone, eleven year old Rachel had only one thought - she should have died with them.
Living with her grandmother was less than bearable, but most things were after Rachel found herself to be the only one standing on the front lawn while the fire burned her life way. She amused herself most days with books, because they had always been her escape. But when she found the ones in the attic, tucked away in the back corner; the one with Latin words and horrible pictures and talk of curses, suddenly Rachel's normal escape of fantasy became all too real.
Her grandmother had killed her family in an attempt to curse her mother. Her grandmother, the woman now raising her, was a witch.
But of course, as it is in the world when you are eleven, no one believed her.
When the FBI agent came along, asking questions, Rachel answered them. But she couldn’t say what she really thought. Why would he believe her? Even if his scruffy beard and warm smile reminded her of her own father in some small way.
No one believed her, after all.
“You can tell me, no matter how fantastical it seems,” he said and somehow, for some reason, she believed him. So she showed him the books, told him how her mother had said they couldn’t visit anymore, how her grandmother had been so angry, how Rachel was sure, sure that her grandmother had started the fire, no matter what the Fire Marshall said.
And he believed her. He truly did.
It killed him to leave her there, with the woman who had slaughtered her entire family. But what could Bobby do? He had investigated the case, played the role of FBI agent and when the truth had come out, he had cornered the old woman, literally. Backed her right up into the corner and threatened her until she was shaking from it. But she was a person, a human, and Bobby was no murderer.
And it’s not like he could tell Social Services, “Yeah, her grandma is a witch, you should remove her from the home.” He was suppose to be an FBI agent and anyways, they had all heard this crazy story from the kid and thought it was just grief. He couldn’t afford to get run out of town on this one.
Not if he wanted to keep checking up on the girl.
Not that he was planning to.
Maybe he sat outside the house too long, thinking about it, because then she was there, sliding into the front seat next to him with her little hand clutched on a bag, arms across her chest like she was daring him to say something.
What he could say? - “Go back inside to the woman who killed your family.” “We'll figure something out.” “I got no business with a kid.” - Okay, well, maybe that last one.
Bobby decided he’d figure it all out later.
He started the car.
It had never been his intention to keep her. Lord knows, he had a life that didn’t have room for a kid. But she kept fairly quiet and she never messed up his books - (yes, they were in a specific order, even if it was an order no one else understood). She read all the books in his house, even the ones he explicitly told her not to, because there were some things she didn’t need to know, even after everything she’d already seen.
It was nice for Sam and Dean to have someone to play with when they came to visit, even if Dean grumbled a lot about playing with girls. He maybe even once admitted that Rachel wasn’t so bad, you know, for a girl. Bobby kind of enjoyed how absolutely whooped those boys were by his girl. And he wasn’t oblivious about whatever it was between Dean and Rachel when they got older, if it ever amounted to anything at all. Thankfully, Rachel was a good enough kid not to make Bobby think about it too hard, at any rate.
He eventually got her in school, because that’s what kids do, right? Turns out, the girl was smart as a whip. Made him pretty damn proud, even if he suspected her own daddy had more to do with it than he did. And she was fierce, lord was she fierce. Gave him grey hair long before his time. Being proud of her didn’t mean he didn’t have the urge to lock her up and throw away the key.
That’s how it went, for Rachel Nieland and Bobby Singer. They settled into it. He worked more from home, using his books and his phones, so he didn’t have to leave her side so much. He answered all her questions, taught her what she wanted to know and made it damn clear that she didn’t have to hunt, if she wanted something else for her life.
It was their life and it worked. And anyways, no matter what John Winchester said, Bobby Singer wasn’t wrapped around anybody’s little finger.
Except maybe, just maybe, his girl.