Note: Thank you for reading, commenting, etc. I have an important exam tomorrow and one early next week so I really wanted to get another chapter up today in case things get hectic for the next several days or longer. So if there are any glaring problems with my use of the English language, I'm sorry, but I didn't put much time into editing🤷‍♀️. In this chapter Anna is thirteen.

Grown-Up Voice

Anna slammed her book down on the table. Fury burned behind her eyes, and her hair flipped over her shoulders when she stood abruptly and stared daggers at her brother sitting across the table from her. "I'm not going, Dean!" she declared more loudly than was necessary.

Dean sighed and calmly stood up, reminding himself that he had to be the adult here because Anna was not one and couldn't be expected to keep her cool during a disagreement. "Anna, there aren't a lot of options here. It's either you stay with Bobby, or you stay by yourself. Considering the number of demons and angels that would just love to gain some sort of advantage over us... I'm gonna go ahead and say option two is out of the question."

Anna squinted at her older brother, the anger never leaving her face. "So, we're ignoring option three, then?"

"Don't give me that. You're not coming with us," Dean said, pointing one finger at her seriously. "And that is not a debate."

Anna huffed angrily, "Why not?"

"Because you're thirteen, and this is too dangerous. You're going to stay with Bobby, and we're not discussing this."

"I won't go."

"Yes, you will, Anna," Dean said through a smirk. "Even if I have to drag you all the way there."

"You can't keep me there."

"And if you don't behave yourself, you can be pulled out of the hunt all together for awhile. Is that a better alternative for you?" He watched as Anna got angrier, but she seemed to at least be cognizant of the fact that if she kept pushing she would only dig a deeper grave for herself. "Munchkin, you're not ready for this. I know you think you are, but you're not."

"You don't know that," Anna snapped back.

"Don't start. You know I do." Dean snatched his duffel off the floor next to the table. "Get your duffel and meet me in the car. We still have to pick Sam up on the way out." With that, he went outside, letting the door shut loudly behind him.

Anna kicked the table leg hard and let her misery show on her face for a minute. She knew she had to go, but she also knew how terrible the next few days would be. Full of boredom and worry. She loved Bobby but she hated being left behind.

Sometimes Anna hated her life so much that it made her feel guilty and rotten inside.

"What do you want to grab for dinner, Rugrat?" Dean asked after they'd picked up Sam from the library and were headed through town toward the interstate ramp. "Pizza? Subway? Burgers?"

Anna rolled her eyes and looked out the window. If he thought she felt like eating fast food, he was insane. She had no appetite, and the thought of making a stop for anything between here and Bobby's only irritated her. Of course, there was no reason for that considering that she was dreading being left with Bobby. But she was upset and not in the mood to deal with Dean's happy go lucky attitude.

"Fine. Sammy'll pick since you're too busy living in your garbage can back there, Oscar."

"I'm not that hungry, actually," Sam said.

"That's helpful, Sam. No, really, thank you. She's definitely gonna eat now."

"You know, I'm not two years old. I'm sitting right here and I can hear you. So if you could refrain from talking about me like I'm not present, that would be great."

"Who shit in your cereal this morning?"

Anna huffed and looked out the window again.

"Sam, pick a fast food place before we pass them all, will you?"

"Just go to Subway," Sam said, obviously only trying to keep the peace. Unfortunately that did the exact opposite.

"Subway's in the other direction, Sam."

"You pick somewhere, then. I didn't realize there was a rulebook I didn't read."

"Fine, the greasiest burger joint we see. Hope you two are hungry for red meat."

"You know, Dean, maybe you fancy the idea of having a heart attack at 35, but not all of us do."

"Well, then pick something better, wise guy."

"We could just skip food."

"Can it, Anna. I've had enough of your attitude."

"All I said was-"

"Yeah, I know what you said."

"Just ignoring me like always then."

"Don't be such a drama queen, Anna."

"Screw you, Dean!"

"Watch what you say to me."

"Right, sorry, I just forgot how much older you are because you're acting like a five year old." Anna crossed her arms and slouched in her seat.

"I'm acting like a five year old?" Dean said sharply. "Right. I'm not the one who's throwing a tantrum because I didn't get my way."

"I'm not either. If you would have left me alone, I would've kept my mouth shut. Not my fault you don't know when to stop yakking." Anna watched in the rearview mirror as Dean's face burned with anger. He seemed to be trying to think of something to say, but eventually just gave up and stuck his tongue out at her in the mirror.

"Oh, yeah, that's very mature, Dean," Anna said sarcastically. But after a few seconds passed, she couldn't help herself and stuck her tongue out at him. Dean did it back, and before long Sam caught on and looked from his brother to his sister in disbelief.

"Dean, you're thirty two years old," the middle brother said simply.

Dean stopped making faces and focused out the windshield of the car. They'd already made it the rest of the way through town, so there was no longer an option of stopping for food, at least not until they reached another town.

In the backseat, Anna pulled her earbuds out of her pocket and shoved them in her ears. She pulled out her phone and the playlist she had reserved specifically for when she was pissed like this. When she hit shuffle, the first song to play was Nothing Else Matters by Metallica, but it reminded her too much of Dean, so Anna skipped it.

It was only twenty minutes or so later that Anna realized her anger had diminished. She switched playlists and stared gloomily out the window, pondering just how awful the upcoming week was likely to be.

()()()

"Hey, Uncle Bobby?" Anna called from her position curled up on the corner of the couch. She was wearing blue flannel pajamas and blinking tiredly at the page before her. She was familiar with the concept of pulling all nighters to find hunter info, but she didn't usually actually stay up till 4 am helping, because usually both her brothers were there and that made enough people that once she fell asleep, they let her stay that way.

Bobby hummed a response from his desk where he was pouring over several books of lore, trying to find some information for a hunter who asked for his help.

Anna poked the page of the book she was reading with one finger. "I think I might know what he's up against."

"Oh yeah?" Bobby looked up, his expression asking Anna what she was waiting for.

Anna stifled a yawn, "Um, but I never thought it was real before."

"Yeah?"

"Do basilisks really exist?"

Bobby sat back in his chair and lifted his baseball cap to scratch his head. "Well, sure they do. Of course, I ain't seen one in the states in over twenty years. But it's hardly impossible." He thought for a second. "Girl, if you're reading up on them right now, you know better than to think this could be one of them."

"No, I know that. I'm looking at a cockatrice."

"A cockatrice? I've never even heard stories about those being real."

"But they could be, right? If you've seen a basilisk, what's so hard to believe about a cockatrice."

"Basilisks are serpents, Anna. They're just big poisonous reptiles." He shook his head. "A cockatrice... Kid, you're talking about a dragon."

"So? Sam and Dean fought a dragon last year."

"Yeah, and that's not unheard of. But a cockatrice is like a bastard offspring. The odds are against it."

"Uncle Bobby, what part of all the shit we've seen doesn't go against the odds?"

"You got a fair point there. I'll have him look into it."

Anna smiled. "You mean I might've really got it?"

Bobby snorted a laugh at her genuine excitement. "I mean you might've really gotten it."

Anna's smile grew, and she stood up from the couch to bring the book she'd been reading over to Bobby. There were two pages on cockatrices. "Here. Tell him to never look it in the eyes. It has a deadly glance. And you can kill it by-"

"I'll take care of this. Why don't you go get some sleep?"

"It's morning now, though."

"I look stupid to you? I know it's morning. Go get some sleep."

"But they're gonna call at six."

"I'll tell the boys where you are."

"But I don't want to miss it. They only call once a day. And anyway, Uncle Bobby, you've got to sleep sometime too."

"I won't be getting the chance. I got two appointments in town today I can't miss."

"Then why don't you let me call this guy back and tell him about the cockatrice. Then you can get some sleep and not be so tired all day, and I'll sleep later when you're gone."

"Know something, Anna?"

"What?" Anna asked squinting seriously at Bobby so she wouldn't look so tired. She knew from experience that if you looked like crap then no amount of logic could help you win an argument for your doing a little extra work for someone.

"You're 'bout as stubborn as your daddy ever was."

Anna grinned at the statement. She thought it an honor to be compared with John Winchester. An honor she knew she didn't deserve but was still delighted to receive. "How about it?"

"Fine, you win. But as soon as the boys call and you've finished talkin' to 'em, I want you in bed. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Anna replied easily. She was thrilled to know that someone was finally trusting her to take care of something as important as delivering information to another hunter.

Bobby had just started up the stairs when he turned back, "Anna."

"Yeah?"

"Don't you leave a detail out when you tell Turner about the cockatrice. Tell him its weaknesses, its strengths, how to kill it, any misconceptions that might be floating around out there. Everything. His life depends on it."

"I will, Uncle Bobby. I'll tell him everything."

"Alright, and, uh... thanks." Bobby hurried up the stairs after that, as if having said anything so softly and sincerely had hurt his manhood, and it made Anna roll her eyes.

"I love you too," she yelled after him loudly.

Once alone, Anna let out a big yawn before pulling a piece of paper out of the notepad on Bobby's desk. She sat in his chair and smiled happily. She felt important sitting there in Bobby's seat. She wasn't used to feeling that way. "Ok," she said to herself as she started scribbling down all the important information this hunter would need to know to take down a cockatrice.

She dialed the number Bobby had written down and waited for the guy to pick up. "Turner Evans?"

"Who's askin?"

"Friend of Bobby Singer's," Anna said, clearing her throat and trying to make her voice sound as grown up as possible. "He told me to give you the rundown. We think we know what you're up against here."

"Bobby had you call me? How old are you?"

Anna cleared her throat. "It doesn't matter. I have the info you need. This thing you're hunting, we're pretty sure it's a cockatrice. It fits the profile."

"Are you even sixteen?"

"What the hell do you care? I'm telling you what you need to know, aren't I?"

"I'd rather hear it from Bobby. I trust his judgement."

"Listen, buddy, I've been awake for almost forty hours now trying to figure this out for you, and I did it. And Bobby confirmed that I'm right. If that's what you need to hear, congratulations, you got it. Now I'm gonna tell you these details one time, so you better have a pencil handy." Anna paused with bated breath, waiting for some sort of confirmation that the guy was ready. None came. "You got that?" she demanded, praying he wasn't about to turn her down and make her go crying to Bobby like a little kid.

"Yeah, sure," Turner said, his voice dropping. "Sure. Hit me."

"Alright, you're after a cockatrice."

"Those are real?"

"Seems like, don't it?" Anna tapped the page she'd made her notes on with the end of her ticonderoga pencil. She didn't like the way that phrase sounded, but she'd heard Dean talk like that to other hunters before so she figured there was some kind of code she didn't know about. "There's some stuff you need to know before you face this thing. Number one, do not meet its eyes. It has a deadly glance. One look and you drop dead. Number two, killing it isn't gonna be easy. You working with a partner? You don't want to take this thing on alone."

There was silence for a moment. "No, I fly solo."

"Watch your back," Anna said, her voice getting quieter. She couldn't imagine living this life without backup. And this guy sounded pretty young, maybe in his early to mid twenties. "This thing is no one's playmate. It's smart. It'll play mean. You can't go after it with a mirror. You'd have to get close, and it's likely to trick you into meeting its eyes if you try that."

"So, how do I kill it?"

()()()

Anna swung one leg back and forth in the dead silence of Bobby's living room, sitting on her other foot on the couch. In one hand, she held the phone her brothers would soon call her on and in the other, she held the pillow from the bed in the guest room, hugging it against her chest. It was getting increasingly difficult to stay awake for Anna even though the sun had come up over an hour prior. Despite that she was waiting for it, the phone's ringtone startled Anna from the edge of sleep and made her jump nearly a foot in the air.

She hurriedly answered the call, hoping Bobby hadn't been woken by the noise of the ringtone. "Buddy the elf. What's your favorite color?"

"Hey, Rugrat. I'm surprised you're actually awake this early."

Anna laid down on her side on the couch with the phone pressed to her ear, setting the pillow beneath her head as she did so. "Trust me, I wouldn't be if I didn't have to."

"Where's Bobby?" Dean asked curiously.

"Sleeping." Dean's silence conveyed his confusion, and Anna filled in the blanks for him. "A hunter called last night looking for info on the fugly he's hunting. Took up until a couple hours ago for us to find it for him, and Uncle Bobby said he has an appointment in town later."

"What, a hair appointment?"

"Don't be a dick, Dean." The comment seemed to catch her brother off guard, as he was silent for once. "Anyways, I told him I'd wait for you to call, and he could get some sleep."

"Well, it's not your first all nighter, but I bet you're feelin' it, huh?"

"Not really," Anna said, trying not to sound indignant at the implication that she couldn't handle the same levels of stress as her family. "I'm not little anymore," she couldn't help but add anyway.

There was a smile in Dean's voice when he answered, "Practically a senior citizen, I know." Anna bit her lip but didn't respond. "Alright, I'll let you get some shut eye."

"Wait- how's the hunt?"

Dean sighed into the speaker, and Anna could tell just that easily that things weren't going well for them. "Honestly... not great."

"Coming up empty?" Anna queried while tugging at the blanket on the other end of the couch until she had it covering her lower half.

"Well, we already know what we're after, it's just the finding it that's giving us trouble."

Anna sighed, "I can't help you there, buddy."

"Yeah, I know," Dean said through a breathy chuckle at her use of the word buddy. "You are seriously sleep-deprived, aren't you, Rugrat."

"I guess," Anna mumbled. "Maybe I should start drinking coffee."

"If you ever want to get taller than five feet, I'd think again."

Anna rolled her eyes. "That's totally a myth."

"You're willing to bet a lifetime of short jokes on that?"

"Good point," Anna said, then yawned.

"Sam's back with breakfast. We'll call again tomorrow, ok?"

"Mhmm."

"Stay out of trouble, Runt."

"I'm an angel, Dean," Anna replied sweetly, then ended the call. She tossed the phone onto the coffee table in front of her and let her head hit the pillow by the armrest. Blessedly, Anna dropped off to sleep.

()()()

It was almost one in the afternoon when Anna woke up, still on the couch in Bobby's living room. It took her a minute to realize that she'd woken because the phone was ringing in the kitchen. With a sleepy sigh and a rub of her eyes, Anna rolled off the couch and speed-walked into the kitchen on bare feet.

She steeled herself when she realized it was the phone labeled FBI that was ringing. She didn't feel qualified for this.

"Uncle Bobby?" she called. "Uncle Bobby!"

There was no answer, and the phone would go to voicemail at any second. Anna swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and picked up the phone. Grown-up voice, she reminded herself silently and cleared her throat. Answer like Bobby does. Common last name, place of work.

"Jones," she said tersely and in as much of an adult voice as she could manage. "FBI."

There was a slight pause of hesitation on the other end before Anna heard a very familiar voice speaking on the other end of the line, "Yes," Dean said as if it were a greeting. "Listen, we have a bit of a problem with some local authorities. Just lookin' for verification from the office."

Dean's voice was sure and calm enough to help Anna relax a little. "Put 'em on," she said with more certainty. She heard Dean clear his throat and mentally prepared herself.

"Agents Smith and Wesson? Surely you can understand my skepticism, Agent?"

Anna raised an eyebrow, getting into the part. "Somebody questioning the authority of two of my best agents while I'm sitting at my desk, swamped with paperwork," she said seriously or even intensely. She felt like she was on CSI. "Surely you can understand my frustration, Officer?"

There was a brief, uncomfortable pause. "My apologies," the police officer said, sounding off-put for reasons Anna completely understood. "Your agents will have our full cooperation."

"Glad to hear it," Anna said evenly, though she was shaking in her pajamas.

There was a rustle as Anna assumed the phone was handed back to her brother. It took a moment before Dean spoke though. "What the hell are you doin' answering Bobby's phone, Rugrat?"

"He's not home," Anna snapped defensively upon hearing the accusation in her brother's tone. She breathed out a heavy sigh and curled her toes on the cold kitchen floor. "Was that okay?" she asked vulnerably, hoping she hadn't somehow screwed the hunt up even from afar.

"Yeah," Dean said through a sigh. "Yeah, you did good, kiddo, I'm sorry. It's just... we keep running into brick walls on this case. We thought we'd avoided having to talk to the cops at all, and then a new corpse showed up and here we are."

"Sorry," was all Anna could think to say. "Anything I can help with?"

"I don't think so. We'll call in the morning, okay?"

"'Kay, Dean."

The line went dead and Anna sighed as she hung up the phone. She stood for a moment wondering what to do with herself. Then her stomach growled. Breakfast might be a good place to start.

She searched through Bobby's fridge three times over and, to her immense disappointment, found nothing that could be classified as junk food. Instead, she picked up an apple and jumped as the phone rang again, setting the apple on the shelf as she walked toward the phones. The ringing one didn't have a label, though, so Anna felt more comfortable answering it without any mental preparation.

She opened her mouth to ask who it was, but somebody started talking as soon as she picked up the phone. "Singer, my guess was a little off the mark on this one. Unusual, I know, you can gush about it later. For now, how do you kill a Rakshasa?"

Anna's eyes widened at the urgency in the voice of a man she'd never met. Then she narrowed her eyes in judgement. "How the hell do you mistake a Rakshasa for anything other than a Rakshasa?" she demanded, making it clearly how stupid a mistake that was.

"Who the hell are you, lady?"

"Nevermind," Anna snapped, rolling her eyes with one hand on her hip. Sometimes she had to wonder how half the hunters Bobby helped were even still alive. Anyway, it was alright that Bobby wasn't here for this. She knew how to kill a Rakshasa, because Sam and Dean had recently been having her study up on just about every creature they'd ever faced and some they hadn't. "You're gonna need a brass knife. You got one?"

"That's it? Brass? You're sure, kid?"

"Don't call me kid," she snapped in irritation. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Alright alright. And?"

"And stab it!" Anna ordered, and hung up. She caught herself as she put the phone back on the hook, realizing that she'd sounded just like Bobby. She'd used her grown-up voice three times today. That had to be some kind of record considering she'd slept almost eight hours of the day away.

"Good advice," Bobby's voice said gruffly from behind her. "Who was it?"

"I dunno," Anna admitted. "But he was stupid."

Bobby snorted a laugh and tossed his jacket on the kitchen table before crossing to the fridge for a beer. "That really narrows down the pool of suspects," he said sarcastically. "Half the hunters on the damn planet are so stupid they can't tell a skinwalker from a black dog."

Anna's eyes widened. "That's mortifying," she said under her breath and took a bite of the apple she'd left on the shelf.

"Tell me about it." Bobby took a swig of beer, tossing the cap perfectly into the garbage can. "What did he want?" he asked of the person on the phone.

"He said he was 'off the mark' on whatever he's hunting and then asked how to kill a Rakshasa."

"You told him?"

"Of course, he's stupid not evil. I didn't want him dead."

Bobby looked sideways at her and sat heavily in a chair at the table. "Good thing you were here, then, huh, kid?"

"Yeah, especially since Sam and Dean called on your FBI phone too while you were gone."

Bobby paused halfway through a sip of beer and set the bottle down. "That go okay?" he asked cautiously. He obviously didn't want to upset her by insinuating a lack of trust. But he was also very obviously nervous.

"Of course it did," Anna said defensively, even though she'd been nervous as hell when she answered the call in question earlier. "Dean says they're havin' a hard time finding the thing they're after. He won't tell me what it is, though. You know?"

"What they're huntin'?" Bobby clarified, and got a nod from Anna. "How would I? I ain't been home."

"Right," Anna said softly, looking down at the apple in her hand. She had a feeling that he was lying, even though there was no reason to think so. "Can I ask you somethin', Uncle Bobby?" she requested and stepped away from the kitchen counter to sit across from him at the table. She turned her green eyes on him, intensely focused.

"Sure, kid. Shoot."

"It's not really a big deal," Anna said like the words were a shield in case he heard her out and decided she was being petty. "But I keep thinkin' about it."

"'Bout what?" Bobby asked gruffly.

Anna shrugged, no longer meeting his eyes and instead studying the tabletop. "You, um... you think they trust me, Uncle Bobby? As a hunter, I mean?"

"What're you talkin' about?"

"I mean, they just keep benching me," Anna said, feeling a familiar anger growing in her gut as she explained. "Like some stupid kid that doesn't know a..." She paused, then drew on Bobby's words from a moment ago, "That doesn't know a skinwalker from a black dog." She sighed and rubbed at her eyes with one hand. She'd only woken up a little while ago and it already felt like so much had happened.

"Anna, they're just trying to make sure you're safe. Leavin' you here is the only way they can guarantee you will be."

"Yeah, okay," Anna said, not sarcastic, but rushed. "I get that, but there comes a time when the way to keep me safe is by letting me get some actual experience as a hunter. Bobby, I don't want to be hiding behind them with a pocket knife in my hand when I'm thirty."

Bobby almost smiled, but didn't, instead wondering if she realized that she hadn't called him Uncle Bobby. "That's a helluva leap to make," he said seriously. "You got plenty of time between now and when you're thirty. I'm sure, in that time, they'll start takin' you on hunts with them more consistently."

Anna nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed for exaggerating so much. "Yeah, I know," she said.

"And trust is not the issue here," Bobby continued, meeting her eyes. "You're smart as they come, kid."

Anna rolled her eyes at the empty praise. "Uncle Bobby-"

"I ain't finished."

Anna bit her lip to physically keep herself from arguing and looked up at Bobby.

"In the last twelve hours, kid, you've saved four hunters' asses, and two of them belonged to your brothers. Those two know you know what you're doing when it comes to lore and research. But, Anna, you're still a kid. You're small and you're inexperienced- Don't interrupt me," he ordered when she opened her mouth to do just that. He watched as Anna settled back in her seat with her arms crossed and a pout on her face. "I know the only way to get better is to hunt. But if you wanna survive that process of getting experience," he said like a real smartass, but also like a wise smartass. "The trick is to start small. Your daddy came to me when Dean was five years old and Sam was maybe a year, and he asked me for help gettin' started. For months, he didn't hunt anything that took more than gas, salt, and a match."

Anna's eyes widened slightly at the story. They never talked about their dad, and Bobby rarely brought John up because he knew the guy was a sensitive subject among his kids. They all reacted differently to his name and it was hard to tell if their reactions would be the same from one situation to the next. "So, basically, you're saying that they do trust me, but I'm being kind of a dumbass thinking that trust means letting me get myself killed?"

Bobby almost smiled. "Exactly," he said. "I got some cars to work on out back. You comin'?"

"Nah, that's okay, Uncle Bobby," Anna answered distractedly, standing up to toss her apple core in the compost bucket under the sink. "I'm gonna do some of my school stuff online. I think I'm behind again. Usually am."

Bobby nodded and headed outside. "You change your mind, you know where I'll be," he said over his shoulder, then let the screen door slam behind him.

Anna waited until he was gone and then raced upstairs to the room she considered her own. In the drawer was an empty leather bound journal she'd been saving since John gave it to her at six years old with the promise that someday she would know what to do with it. She knew now that, though he'd given it to her when she was a little girl, he'd meant it as a gift to a grown-up version of Anna Winchester. The version of herself that Anna was slowly coming into.

At the top of the first page, Anna wrote the date and underlined it. Beneath it, she wrote Cockatrice, and the details of that creature. She didn't dare try sketching one. Then she wrote Rakshasa and everything she could recall about its lore. These, she decided, were some of the first milestones of her career as a hunter. Every time she had to put on a grown-up voice, that had to mean she'd done something worth writing down.

La Fin