The air outside the Dubois House was thick—not just with the sticky heat of a Louisiana morning, but with the weight of unsaid words and reluctant goodbyes. The early sun cast a warm, golden light over the yard, illuminating the scattered chairs and mason jars left behind from last night's gathering. Bobby's truck sat parked by the dusty road, its engine rumbling unevenly, as though it shared the same reluctance to leave.

Walter, Claire, and the rest of the Dubois family stood in a loose line near the porch, their faces a mix of gratitude and quiet concern. Camille, Pearl, Bernice, and even little Savannah lingered nearby, their expressions betraying their feelings more than any words ever could. Austin and Madison were off to the side, their quiet presence a reminder of the whirlwind that had brought everyone together in the past few days.

Nadia stood by Bobby, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder. She shifted her weight, an apologetic smile tugging at her lips. "I'm sorry we couldn't stay longer. I just really need to get back—"

Walter, with one arm draped around Claire, gave her a slow nod, his voice carrying that unmistakable Southern warmth. "We understand, darlin'. God's will you'll be back to visit us." His gaze slid pointedly to Bobby, who scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Claire, ever the gracious hostess, added with a wide smile, "And bring Sam and Dean with ya next time. We'd love to have y'all."

"Thank you," Nadia replied earnestly. "And thank you for the hospitality. I had a good time."

One by one, the Dubois family closed the space between them, offering hugs and murmured farewells. When Nadia pulled back from Bernice's embrace, she found Austin standing before her, Madison at his side.

Austin's voice was low, a hint of emotion cracking through his usual calm. "I don't know how to thank you. And Jo. I owe y'all—both of you."

Nadia shook her head, brushing off his words. "You don't owe me a thing. Just take care of yourselves. Of each other." Her gaze shifted to Madison, who looked slightly uncomfortable under the attention. "And you," Nadia added with a teasing tone. "You remember our promise?"

Madison gave a small huff, crossing her arms but nodding. "Yeah. I'm gonna try."

The girl hesitated before continuing, her voice quieter. "And... thank you. I know I'm just some kid you happened to meet, but you've done more for me than anybody else would've."

Nadia's heart softened. "Of course," she said, her tone gentle. Then, with a teasing grin, she added, "Just try not to drive your daddy crazy, alright?"

"No promises," Madison shot back, her smirk making Austin laugh as he shook his head.

Standing quietly off to the side, Camille took a step forward. She hesitated, her usual easy confidence replaced with something softer, more introspective. "We only just met, and I'm already gonna miss ya," she said, her Louisiana drawl wrapping warmly around the words. "I enjoyed last night... talkin', drinkin'. It was nice. Honestly, it ain't often I get to connect with somebody outside the Hollow. There ain't many folks I feel like I can talk to, not like that."

She paused, her brown eyes meeting Nadia's. "You're not like other hunters."

Nadia offered her a small smile. "I enjoyed our talk too. You remind me a little of my best friend Jo. She needs a little taming, too."

Camille let out a laugh, the sound rich and genuine, her head shaking. "Don't be a stranger, ya hear?"

"I'll try," Nadia promised, the sincerity in her voice mirrored in her expression.

For a moment, the two women stood there in companionable silence. There was an unspoken understanding between them—a connection that felt new but real, a bond that could grow if given the chance.

With one last glance at the gathered group, Nadia lifted her hand in a small wave. "Take care of each other," she said softly, before turning and heading toward the truck.

Bobby was already behind the wheel, his rough hands resting on the steering column as he glanced over at Nadia. His gruff voice held a rare touch of humor. "You ready, or you wanna stand around 'til the next crawfish boil?"

Nadia chuckled as she climbed into the passenger seat, the door shutting with a satisfying thud. "I'm ready."

The truck's engine growled as Bobby shifted it into gear, the tires crunching over gravel. The Dubois family waved them off, their figures growing smaller in the side mirror as the truck pulled onto the main road.

For a moment, Nadia kept her eyes on them in the mirror—the warmth of their smiles, the quiet strength of their presence. She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, settling back into the seat as the lush Louisiana countryside began to blur into the horizon.

Bobby muttered, almost to himself, "Next stop, Sioux Falls."

"Next stop," Nadia echoed softly, her gaze fixed on the road ahead. Though she was leaving this little corner of the world behind, she couldn't shake the feeling that a piece of it would stay with her. Something good. Something worth coming back for.

The rhythmic hum of the engine filled the car as Bobby drove. The sky outside had shifted from morning gold to the pale blue of mid-afternoon, the sun now high and hot over the stretch of empty highway that led them away from Louisiana's muggy warmth toward the crisp coolness of the Midwest. The landscape outside had gone from the wild greenery of the bayou to open fields and scattered farmhouses. For a while now, all they had seen were rows of crops and the occasional distant barn as the miles rolled past.

"So, what'd you think?" Bobby asked, his voice breaking the silence. He glanced over at Nadia briefly before returning his eyes to the road. A few hours had passed since they left the commune, the world outside slowly transitioning into something more familiar.

Nadia shifted in her seat, her gaze still out the window. The wide-open plains stretched out before them, endless and dry, a stark contrast to the lush, humid green of the swampy lands they'd just left behind. "It's a nice place," she said finally, her voice thoughtful. "They got something good going."

"Yeah, they do," Bobby agreed, a slight nod accompanying his words. "You're not still mad at me, are you?"

Nadia frowned, catching his tone as she turned her head to look at him. "About what?"

"Me telling them you're an angel," Bobby said, keeping his eyes straight ahead, his voice a little guarded.

Nadia was quiet for a moment, the car's steady movement against the road a calming backdrop to her thoughts. She wasn't mad at Bobby—at least, not in the way he probably thought. More like a quiet, lingering feeling she couldn't quite place. She exhaled slowly, as though releasing a breath she had been holding for too long.

"No, I'm not," she replied, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "It was a teaching moment, really. I might not always be able to hide who I am. Not that I should, but I can't be blind to the fact that I can do just about anything." She paused, her eyes focused on the endless road stretching ahead. "It only takes one time, one selfish desire, and I'm no different than the monsters we hunt."

Bobby let the words hang in the air between them for a moment. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, his eyes briefly flicking to her before returning to the road. "Well, I wouldn't take it that far," he said gently, trying to reassure her.

Nadia tilted her head slightly, giving him a sideways glance. "You know what I mean," she said softly, her voice edged with something more—something deeper than just the words.

Bobby's gaze softened, and he nodded slowly. "I know what you mean," he murmured. He gave a brief chuckle, trying to lift the weight of the conversation. "It's good to be self-aware, but don't sell yourself short either. Everybody who knows and loves you knows you'll never abuse your power."

Nadia didn't reply right away, her thoughts still weighing heavily on her. She rubbed her eyes, stifling a yawn as the miles continued to pass. The rolling hills and open fields seemed endless now, the contrast from the tight-knit, humid air of the commune leaving a feeling of emptiness in her chest. She let the familiar hum of the engine fill her mind, trying to shut out the deeper ache she couldn't place.

"Yeah," she said finally, her voice trailing off. Another yawn escaped, this one more reluctant than the last.

Bobby glanced over, his smile softening. "Why don't you get some shut-eye?" he suggested gently, his voice warm, as if trying to create a comfortable space for her to rest.

"I don't want to leave you alone," Nadia replied, already leaning her head against the cool glass of the window, her eyelids growing heavy.

Bobby chuckled quietly, glancing at her with a fond expression. "Don't be silly. Get some rest. You've earned it."

Nadia didn't answer, her head tipping to the side as her breathing evened out. Her eyes fluttered closed, the soft rattle of the road beneath the tires lulling her into a light sleep. Bobby glanced at her once more, his gaze lingering on her peaceful expression. She looked so much younger when she was asleep, a little girl again in a way he hadn't seen in years.

"Wake me up when you get tired, okay?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

Bobby smiled, his eyes softening as he adjusted his grip on the wheel. "Will do," he said quietly, watching her for a moment longer before turning his focus back to the road.

By hour ten, they had refueled the truck, and Nadia had taken over driving while Bobby dozed in the passenger seat, a blanket tucked over his lap. The low hum of the engine and the steady rhythm of the tires on the asphalt provided a comforting background to the soft rock music playing from the radio. Nadia's fingers drummed lightly on the steering wheel, the only sign of her restlessness as the landscape stretched on endlessly. 

The open plains of Oklahoma stretched out before them—endless miles of flat, golden fields, broken only by the occasional distant tree line or lonely farmhouse. A hazy twilight sky hung heavy with the promise of evening, and the warm colors of the setting sun turned the vast sky into a canvas of pink and orange. The air smelled faintly of hay and earth, a simple reminder of their long trek across the country.

A couple of hours later, Bobby was behind the wheel again, the truck cutting through the midnight air as they pushed past Hannibal, still three hours away from Sioux Falls. The moon cast long shadows across the road, the headlights cutting through the darkness like a knife. Despite the hour, there was no sign of slowing down. 

Bobby was focused, eyes on the road, while Nadia stared out the window, her phone still gripped in her hand. She hadn't heard from Dean since their last conversation, and the silence was beginning to gnaw at her. The worry that had been simmering in the pit of her stomach was now bubbling up to the surface.

Her thumb hovered over the screen as she tapped out a message to Dean, the text flashing on the screen. No reply. Her heart beat a little faster, and she let out a frustrated sigh.

"You think they're okay?" Nadia finally asked, glancing over at Bobby.

Bobby looked over at her briefly, his face unreadable in the dim light. "I'm sure," he replied, though his voice lacked the usual certainty. "They're probably just caught up—"

Before he could finish, Nadia's phone buzzed. Her breath hitched when Dean's name flashed across the screen. Without hesitation, she swiped to answer.

"Dean?"

"Hey, Robin."

Nadia scoffed, rolling her eyes even though she was relieved to hear his voice. "Hey, Robin?" she repeated, though she was trying to hide her concern. "I've been calling you. What gives?"

"Are you still in Louisiana?" Dean's voice sounded strained, quieter than usual, almost as though he was trying to keep his distance from someone or something.

Nadia squinted, realizing something was off. "No, we left yesterday morning. We're about three hours out from Bobby's. Why are you whispering?"

"Put the phone on speaker," Dean instructed, his voice low.

Frowning, Nadia glanced at Bobby, who raised an eyebrow but gave her a silent nod. She set the phone to speaker and held it between them.

"Okay, Bobby can hear," she said, her voice tinged with confusion.

"Listen, I gotta make this quick," Dean continued, his voice even quieter now. "You know how Sam and I were looking for Castiel's vessel, Jimmy?"

"Yeah," Nadia replied, feeling a growing unease in her gut.

"Well, we found him," Dean's voice dropped further. "We found him at his house, with his wife and kid. Demons attacked us. We got out, but Jimmy had to separate from his family. We thought we were in the clear, until we got a call... his wife and kid had been kidnapped. One of the demons possessed his wife."

Bobby's grip tightened on the wheel, and Nadia exchanged a quick, concerned glance with him. The air inside the truck felt colder suddenly, the weight of the situation settling heavily between them.

"Naturally, we went to go save them, and of course, we ran into more demons," Dean continued, his voice strained. "But something happened..." He hesitated.

"Something like...?" Bobby prompted, the question coming out tight with concern.

"When Sam was scuffling with one of them," Dean's voice faltered. "He... he went to kill her with the demon knife, and then when I looked..." Dean's voice cracked, the pain in his words unmistakable. "He was... he was drinking the blood from its neck."

The truck's tires seemed to hum louder, the silence between them pressing in. Nadia's heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening in disbelief. Bobby's neck snapped toward the road, but his gaze flickered back to the phone in shock.

"You said he did what?" Bobby's voice trembled, disbelief rippling through his words.

"Afterwards, he exorcised the demon from Jimmy's wife. Couldn't do it earlier when we saved them at the house, but drinking the blood—it's how he..." Dean trailed off, the implication hanging in the air.

A cold silence filled the truck. Bobby's grip on the wheel tightened, knuckles white.

"Where is he now?" Nadia finally found her voice, her throat tight with the need for answers.

"Getting his stuff from the hotel. We're about to head out," Dean's voice cracked again. "I don't know what to do. What should I do?"

Nadia glanced at Bobby, and for the first time in hours, there was no reassurance in his expression. The weight of the moment was unbearable.

Bobby exhaled slowly, thinking fast. "Stay calm, you hear? Don't let him think anything's wrong. When we get back to my place, I'm gonna call him. Tell him you all need to get over here."

"And then what?" Dean asked, sounding almost desperate.

"Then we put him in the bunker. Force him to go cold turkey and then we'll go from there," Bobby replied firmly, though his voice had an edge of uncertainty to it.

Dean's voice became steadier. "Okay. Okay."

Nadia could hear the relief in his words, but there was still fear lurking beneath them. "Hang in there, Batman," she said, trying to offer some comfort. "We'll see you soon."

She ended the call and sat back in her seat, the heavy silence of the truck almost suffocating.

It was two AM, and the silence in the house was oppressive, the kind of silence that filled the spaces between words like a heavy fog. The only sound was the steady, rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall, marking time in a way that felt both distant and unbearable. Nadia and Bobby sat in the living room, their gazes occasionally meeting but never holding. Neither of them spoke. They didn't need to. Both of them were too deep in their own thoughts, too uncertain about the storm they were about to face. The tension was thick in the air, almost palpable, like the humidity before a storm.

They both knew why they were waiting, but Nadia hadn't expected things to escalate this way. She'd known about Sam drinking blood, of course. In the weeks before, she had tried not to let herself dwell on it—tried to ignore it when Sam's thoughts drifted, unbidden, to the addiction that haunted him. But no amount of distraction could change the truth. She knew it would get bad. But she never imagined it would get this bad. Not bad enough for Sam to do it in front of Dean. The thought made her stomach turn.

The low rumble of the Impala's engine broke the silence, cutting through the thick air like a blade. Nadia's heart rate spiked as the headlights flashed through the window, casting long shadows across the walls. The Winchesters had arrived.

Bobby didn't speak as he stood, his expression a mask of grim determination. His shoulders were tight, his eyes darkened with worry, but he didn't show fear. He never did. Nadia watched him, her stomach clenching with anxiety, as he moved toward the front door. 

They didn't exchange words. There was nothing to say, not right now. The plan was set, and they were both fully committed to it. But Nadia couldn't shake the feeling that something was slipping out of their control. Locking Sam away in the panic room was necessary, she knew that. It was for his own good, for everyone's safety. But it felt wrong. She had to remind herself that this was the only way to protect him from himself, even if it felt like they were betraying him.

Dean stepped out of the Impala first, his face drawn and weary, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Nadia could see it in the way he moved—slightly hunched, his shoulders stiff with tension. His eyes were haunted, the flicker of pain in them so deep that it felt like it was radiating from him. He didn't say anything as he passed her, not even a glance. His gaze was locked on Bobby, his focus unwavering. His jaw was tight, clenched, like he was holding himself together by sheer force of will.

Sam was next, stepping out of the car with a strange calm. His posture was loose, as usual, but there was an unnatural ease to it, as if he were pretending that everything was fine. A smile flashed across his face as he looked toward Nadia, but it was fleeting, and it didn't reach his eyes. There was something off about him—something wrong—and Nadia didn't need to be close to him to feel it.

"Hey," he greeted her, his voice light, too light. "How was Louisiana?"

"Hot," Nadia forced a smile, crossing her arms over her chest. She tried not to focus on how tight her throat had become. 

Bobby's voice broke through the moment. "Come with me."

Dean gave a brief nod before turning toward Bobby, and Sam followed suit, tossing his jacket onto the couch with the kind of casual indifference that made Nadia's stomach knot. She followed behind them, trailing a few steps.

Bobby led the way to the basement door, and as he reached the bottom of the stairs, he turned, his gaze flicking back to the others. "Well, thanks for shaking a tail," he said, his voice steady but with an edge to it, a sharpness that suggested the weight of the decision they'd just made.

Nadia lingered at the foot of the stairs, swallowing hard as she watched Dean offer a tight, humorless grin. "Yeah, you got it."

The door to the panic room creaked open, its metal frame groaning in protest as Sam pushed it wide. The sound was heavy, ominous, like the prelude to something inevitable. Bobby gestured toward the inside. "Go on in," he said, his voice low, firm, and final. "I wanna show you something."

Sam stepped inside first, his eyes scanning the room with detached disinterest. But Nadia could see the flicker of something darker in his gaze—something that couldn't be ignored.

"So," Sam flailed his arms in exaggerated confusion, breaking the silence, "what's the big demon problem?"

Bobby's response was quiet but firm, his words like a warning. "You are."

Sam froze, his body stiffening as he turned toward Bobby, his expression shifting. The weight of the words hung in the air like a thundercloud, thick with unspoken tension.

"This is for your own good," Bobby added, his tone brokering no argument. It was clear there was no room for negotiation, no room for hope.

Sam's face hardened, his jaw clenching. For a moment, it seemed like he might fight it—might lash out. But instead, he just stood there, staring at Bobby, his eyes narrowing with disbelief.

Without another word, Bobby and Dean moved toward the door. The door slammed shut with a finality that sent a shiver down Nadia's spine, the sound echoing in the small room, followed by the unmistakable click of the lock.

Sam stepped toward the window, his fingers brushing against the metal bars as he stared out. His voice cracked with the desperation he had been holding back. "Guys? Hey, hey. What?"

Bobby moved to the window, his hand latching it with a soft click, sealing Sam in. "This isn't funny," Sam's voice rose, panic creeping in. "Guys! Hey! Guys?"

Dean and Bobby exchanged a brief, grim look. Both of them turned toward Nadia, their eyes heavy with the weight of the decision they had just made, the irreversible step they had taken.

The silence stretched on, the sound of Sam's muffled shouts fading into the distance.

****

Two more episodes, guys! Let me know what you guys think of the DuBois family?