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Home at Bobby's
Max was defiantly not one of those touchy feely lets talk about our emotions type. She like a bout a billion other kids had grown up in a dysfunctional household. Her mother a devout fanatical catholic and her father well, he had the emotional equivalent of a rock. Cold, hard and dangerous if used bluntly. Her folk did the whole don’t spare the rod you’ll spoil the child thing. She couldn’t recall a single memory of her parents touching her kindly that didn’t take place in the church, and Max remembered every moment of her life from about two years old. Sitting back in the worn brown leather chair, she watched Sam and Dean’s verbal banter. If she wasn’t
in so much pain, she might have found it funny. Fighting a pair of Haunts which are Wolf like in appearance having grey-black in their coats of fur. The males have deep set blood-red glowing eyes, while the females have fairly, dark-blue eyes. Their piercing claws are like sharpened steel, and their teeth and saliva are poisonous. Unfortunately, after killing the male, the female had clawed the front of her shoulder saliva and blood dripping from it’s razor sharp teeth into the open wound. The sound at what Max presumed to be her whelp or pups if you will draw her off. However, left Max dying a slow painful death, unless in one of these hundred of books of Booby’s she could fine an antidote. She of course told none of them what had happened. It just wasn’t her style. She lived or died on her own screw ups that was just how it was.
Turning her head slightly, Bobby Singer sat behind the huge desk piled high with paper, books artifacts and such, that if you sat forward you’d lose sight of him behind them. She liked Bobby; they had a working understanding. She’d help him out on a case here or there cook for him when she was around and she could read any book or whatnot he had. That was just fine with her. She liked Bobby, his place had a noisy quietness to it she liked. Her eyes moved from Bobby’s scurfy weathered face to the wheelchair he sat in. She didn’t know the exact story of what put him in it, but she knew or sensed it somehow had to do with the Winchester boys, but then nowadays didn’t most things? Her eyes fell back to the huge book of demonology and mythological creatures that lay open on her lap. She had read 3,957 book on the subject and she remembered every word of every book down to the smallest in flexion. It was her curse. Closing her eyes, she lay her head back listening to the two igits as Bobby calls them drone on. " Bobby" she said closing the book softly." I’m kind of beat, you mind if I finish the book in the morning?" She asked wondering if there even would be a morning for her. Swallowing back a wince of pain, she pushed up setting the book aside. There wasn’t a part of her body, which didn’t scream with pain, even her ******* hair hurt, but Max didn’t show anyone her weaknesses, that there was a sure fired way of getting very dead very quickly. She’d assimilate her pain accepted it as part of her lousy miserable life nothing more. Besides, she knew pain, real pain. that seeped into your soul cutting and ripping part to the very center of your being and never let go, never stopping always there. " Sure" He said lifting a hand in whatever gesture. " Thanks Bobby" she said softly heading toward the door.
"Where do you think you’re going?" Bobby asked taking his nose out the book he had been skimming through. " Ah my car" She said pointing toward the door indicating her 1973 Dodge Charger. " You ain’t doing no such thing, it’s going down to nearly 12 below with wind chills. There a room upstairs on the right you can sleep there tonight, and I don’t want no arguing about it." He said sternly, his weathered eyes narrowing. " Why Bobby you’re so forceful. She teased her eyes glistening slightly as she got one of those little bad girl looks on her face. " Oh Bobby" she said with a sweet innocent cadence to her voice. " Hit me hurt me make me feel cheap. I got goose bumps and chill just thinking about it." She played a hand along her arm fluttering her lashes at him.." She couldn’t help, but smile although it hurt like hell. " Shut up." He grumbled shaking his head, but she could see he was blushing a bit. " I’ll go get my things." She smirked continuing on toward the door.
Her head was pounding so badly she felt like she was going to barf any second. Swallowing back the bile taste, taking another step or two, Her head began to swim as wave after wave of dizzy hit her like a ton of bricks. Reaching out she tried to keep herself from falling by grabbing the wall, but misjudged hitting a stack of book knocking them over, as she pitched forward. Landing unconscious in a heap on the floor the books raining down over her like a cascading waterfall of leather bond books and dust. .
in so much pain, she might have found it funny. Fighting a pair of Haunts which are Wolf like in appearance having grey-black in their coats of fur. The males have deep set blood-red glowing eyes, while the females have fairly, dark-blue eyes. Their piercing claws are like sharpened steel, and their teeth and saliva are poisonous. Unfortunately, after killing the male, the female had clawed the front of her shoulder saliva and blood dripping from it’s razor sharp teeth into the open wound. The sound at what Max presumed to be her whelp or pups if you will draw her off. However, left Max dying a slow painful death, unless in one of these hundred of books of Booby’s she could fine an antidote. She of course told none of them what had happened. It just wasn’t her style. She lived or died on her own screw ups that was just how it was.
Turning her head slightly, Bobby Singer sat behind the huge desk piled high with paper, books artifacts and such, that if you sat forward you’d lose sight of him behind them. She liked Bobby; they had a working understanding. She’d help him out on a case here or there cook for him when she was around and she could read any book or whatnot he had. That was just fine with her. She liked Bobby, his place had a noisy quietness to it she liked. Her eyes moved from Bobby’s scurfy weathered face to the wheelchair he sat in. She didn’t know the exact story of what put him in it, but she knew or sensed it somehow had to do with the Winchester boys, but then nowadays didn’t most things? Her eyes fell back to the huge book of demonology and mythological creatures that lay open on her lap. She had read 3,957 book on the subject and she remembered every word of every book down to the smallest in flexion. It was her curse. Closing her eyes, she lay her head back listening to the two igits as Bobby calls them drone on. " Bobby" she said closing the book softly." I’m kind of beat, you mind if I finish the book in the morning?" She asked wondering if there even would be a morning for her. Swallowing back a wince of pain, she pushed up setting the book aside. There wasn’t a part of her body, which didn’t scream with pain, even her ******* hair hurt, but Max didn’t show anyone her weaknesses, that there was a sure fired way of getting very dead very quickly. She’d assimilate her pain accepted it as part of her lousy miserable life nothing more. Besides, she knew pain, real pain. that seeped into your soul cutting and ripping part to the very center of your being and never let go, never stopping always there. " Sure" He said lifting a hand in whatever gesture. " Thanks Bobby" she said softly heading toward the door.
"Where do you think you’re going?" Bobby asked taking his nose out the book he had been skimming through. " Ah my car" She said pointing toward the door indicating her 1973 Dodge Charger. " You ain’t doing no such thing, it’s going down to nearly 12 below with wind chills. There a room upstairs on the right you can sleep there tonight, and I don’t want no arguing about it." He said sternly, his weathered eyes narrowing. " Why Bobby you’re so forceful. She teased her eyes glistening slightly as she got one of those little bad girl looks on her face. " Oh Bobby" she said with a sweet innocent cadence to her voice. " Hit me hurt me make me feel cheap. I got goose bumps and chill just thinking about it." She played a hand along her arm fluttering her lashes at him.." She couldn’t help, but smile although it hurt like hell. " Shut up." He grumbled shaking his head, but she could see he was blushing a bit. " I’ll go get my things." She smirked continuing on toward the door.
Her head was pounding so badly she felt like she was going to barf any second. Swallowing back the bile taste, taking another step or two, Her head began to swim as wave after wave of dizzy hit her like a ton of bricks. Reaching out she tried to keep herself from falling by grabbing the wall, but misjudged hitting a stack of book knocking them over, as she pitched forward. Landing unconscious in a heap on the floor the books raining down over her like a cascading waterfall of leather bond books and dust. .
MaxJenkins |
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| nermah84 | Home at Bobby's | 0 | Mar 31 2010, 7:05 PM EDT by nermah84 | ||
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