Not A Winchester

Onyx's Note:: For those of you who've taken an interest in this Missing Scene/Missing Episode I want to say thank you. In this chapter, Tora runs into the Boys...and has an interesting introduction. I promise, that in the next installment, it's going to get very interesting. And on that note, please Enjoy!

* * * * *

Seven Years Later

I don’t know what possessed me to do it… But one night, I was awakened by one helluva nightmare that eventually caused me to jump on the road at 3 o’clock in the morning, and drove like a bat outta hell from Yellow Stone…all the way back to Windom, Minnesota.

So I pulled my now waist length hair back into a bun, decided to leave my signature nose ring out incase I had to get up close and personal, and got dressed. My usual long sleeved black shirt, pair of dark jeans, worn hiking boots and my coat and I was out the door.

I’d phoned Bobby at around 4:30am because he was the only person I could call at that ungodly hour.

“You got any idea what time it is Tora?” He rumbled on the other end and I smirked.

“I know Bobby, I’m sorry…but I had a nightmare.” I said and there was a pause…which meant he’d just stopped himself from making a smart ass comment.

“A bad one?” He asked in a careful tone, sounding more awake.

I nodded but realized we we’re talking on the phone and he couldn’t see me. Guess I wasn’t that awake either, “Real bad Bobby…which is why I called.” I replied and decided that at the next open mart or all night diner I found, I’d stop in real quick to get a coffee to go.

“You’re on the road I take it?” He asked and I noticed a diner up ahead…that appeared to be open.

“Since 3:00am. I’m about to pull off and get a coffee so I don’t accidentally run over Bambi.” I chimed and slowed the beast down so I could pull into the gravel driveway without tearing up my suspension.

I heard Bobby chuckle, “ya I’m sure Thumper would appreciate it.” He said causing to me to laugh, “Where you headin’ to?” He asked the obvious question as I parked in a big spot and shut off the engine.

“Windom Minnesota. Got a real…bad feeling and need to go by the old house.” I explained and rubbed the strain out of my eyes.

I could hear him sigh on the other end and said, “I don’t know why you won’t let me get a hold of the boys. You know they’d be willin’ to help you.”

This made me slump in my seat. “I can’t…not yet. And you promised Bobby…” I was beginning to say when the old Hunter cut me off.

“You know damned well when I make a promise I intend on keepin’ it.” he spat and I just brought my right hand to my forehead, tired and in desperate need of caffeine. “I just don’t like this, any of it.”

I sighed and murmured, “I know.”

“It ain’t right Tora and you know it, don’t care what you promised to John.” Bobby announced over the line and I knew he was gettin’ angry, “I don’t like keepin’ secrets from these boys, they deserve the truth. And you’d be better off havin’ them on your side rather then runnin’ around on your own.”

“Bobby…you know I love you, you’re the closest thing I’ve got to a father…but could you spare me the parental speech? I’m damn near twenty-six years old and I’ve been doin’ this for seven years now, been takin’ care of myself for even longer then that…” I was trying to explain in my own defense when I heard him huff.

“You know, sometimes Tora…you act more like John then his own boys.” When he said that…I didn’t know whether that was a compliment or an insult…and when it came to Bobby, it was a bit of both.

I didn’t call him to get into argument, I was worried about Adam and the longer I sat there, the worse the feeling got. Bobby had only just learned the truth three weeks prior to my nightmare. After watching over me as if I were his own flesh in blood, for seven years…I sprung the truth on him…and no, Bobby was not happy about it… Got real drunk and blamed John for the hell I and John’s boys had been goin’ through. Guess that bad blood never did get better…

“I’m gonna go Bobby…I need coffee and sittin’ here isn’t getting me anywhere.” I said softly and knew he sensed that he’d stung me. “And I’m takin’ the Polaroid with me…”

He was quiet for a long time…I think I’d just surprised him. “I’ll call you later…just, be safe.” He replied and the line went dead.

I left my phone in the car as I got out, locked her up and ran inside, ordering a fresh cup of strong coffee to go.

Something was pushing me to get home as quickly as possible…and the amazing thing is, I didn’t get tired once on that long drive home. I just knew that I had to get there…because something was very wrong.

But by the time I did…it was already too late.

* * * * *

It was dark by the time I’d gotten into Windom. I’d been on the road for hours and the adrenaline pumping through my blood kept me very alert…and nervous. I wanted to drive by the house…but something told me, like my nightmare, to keep driving… That what I was looking for, started at the old cemetery.

When I got there, I found what I was looking for.

Two tall young men, carrying something to the one car I hadn’t seen in years.

My heart was in my throat…because I knew what precious cargo they were carrying….so I stayed back until they started driving off and began following. I allowed a few cars to get ahead of me so they wouldn’t catch me trailing them.

Now think about it, you’re driving a classic car and just happen to have a slightly younger model right behind you…ya, they would notice. Especially at night, with my white beast sticking out like a sore thumb with every pair of headlights that drove by.

I was a good distance behind but kept my eye on them…until the taillights turned right, onto an unmarked road going into the forest. I turned onto the unpaved path and shut off my lights so they wouldn’t see me coming. I drove nice and slow, getting closer to their position until I watched them stop. So I pulled a little off to the side in a gap between two old trees that seemed to be a godsend. I shut her off, collected a few…essentials that fit nicely under the long length of my black trench coat, closed the door as quietly as possible and traveled on foot the rest of the way.

I crept up on them nice and quiet as they began to build something. As I edged closer, I noticed what they were doing…especially when they placed a slender body, wrapped like a mummy on top of the small pillar of wood.

I watched in silence, now no more than twenty feet away, off to their right… As the shorter of the two doused the body in lighter fluid… And I heard him, his voice low and yet so familiar.

He’d said Adam was a Winchester…and that he’d died like a Hunter.

And something the taller one said…about Adam being their brother.

I held my breath as they lit the body on fire, the flames licking against the darkness, illuminating their features in an angry red light.

My legs began to move before I could stop myself… And it was right at the end of their conversation…

* * * * *

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” The taller one replied, hands in the pockets of his coat as he stood to the left of the shorter one.

His face…there was pain there when he muttered, “You can take it anyway you want.”

They didn’t notice me until I spoke… Causing them to whip their eyes to the right as if I were some ghost. “How?” I asked, keeping my voice even…hoping the heartbreak I felt didn’t spill forth in waves of unwanted tears. “How’d he die?”

Before I knew it, I had guns pointed at me. “The hell are you?” The shorter one, (who was actually six foot one) snarled at me, his green eyes shooting unmasked distrust in my direction.

I kept my hands in the deep pockets of my trench coat, my right hand fiddling with an old piece of paper taped to the back of an old Polaroid I’d kept with me since Adam’s 15th birthday. The last time I saw my family altogether…and John.

I sighed and tried to hold myself together while tears stung my vision as I watched my baby brother’s lifeless body burn within the dancing flames. “I thought he’d call me, you know?” I began, my resolve crumbling as a tear fled my left eye. “Hell, I just talked to him a two weeks ago. He was so excited about going pre-med and really wanted to see me…” I said and trailed off, my voice breaking. I cleared my throat and added, “was gonna come out and visit him and Kate…surprise’em, ya know?”

I didn’t look up when I felt them exchange a look and began inching toward me, guns still drawn.

“Hands where we can see’em.” The shorter one growled and it was the taller one (who was six foot four in a half) that caught my gaze when I finally looked up.

“Nice and easy.” The taller one said in a less commanding tone, but by the look in his eyes, I knew he’d shoot me without a second thought.

I did as asked and let the Polaroid fall out of my pocket right as they approached me. “Okay…” I muttered in a weak whisper and didn’t make a point to wipe away the tears that freefell from my face.

They paused at the picture, seeing as it landed face up. The shorter one kept his barrel trained on me as the taller one reached down and brought the photo into view. “Dean…” He said in a low voice and got the shorter one’s attention.

“What?” He asked and noticed what the taller one was trying to show him. His eyes went wide, “You’ve gotta be shittin’ me…” Dean exclaimed and snatched the picture for closer inspection.

“Adam, John…and me.” I said and kept my arms up, even though a slight tremble started rolling through me and it wasn’t from the strain. “Last time all of us spent time together.” I said softly and gave a sad smile when Dean’s arm started to lower, allowing me to drop my arms.

“What’s your name?” The taller one…I remembered, his name was Sam. Which meant he was the baby brother…he was a year older than me.

“Adopted name was Jane Natasha Milligan… Had that changed the year I turned Eighteen back to Tora Balam Morgan.” I replied and sensed they were on edge. I didn’t blame them for that. “Now please…tell me what happened to my baby brother…”

Suddenly Dean was in my face with the barrel of his gun pressed at the center of my forehead. I didn’t react when he pushed the picture in my face and growled, “You’re lying!”

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed but it was no use.

“No Sam!” Dean barked and pushed the barrel painfully against my skull. “I’m done with it. The lies, the shape shifters, the ghouls, the demons…all of it!” His eyes filled with an emotion I couldn’t place when I felt the heat of his breath dance across my face. “I don’t care who you are…”

“Do it…” I growled softly cutting him off and gave Dean defiant eyes. “I’ve got nothin’ left. Without family I’m as good as dead anyway, so do me the favor and squeeze the fucking trigger.”

Just as the rage began to fill Dean’s hazel green eyes a phone went off…

“Sam.” Dean rumbled out and I watched as Sam reached over into Dean’s coat and pulled out a cell phone that was blasting classic rock.

“It’s Bobby…” Sam announced and took the call, his voice strained, “Hey Bobby.” Sam exclaimed, hit speaker phone and kept shifting his weary eyes from me to his angry brother.

“’Bout damned time.” I could hear Bobby’s voice rumble on the other end, “you boys need to keep your phones on when someone’s tryin’ to get a hold of you.”

Dean tilted his head back and said, “Kinda busy Bobby.”

I could hear Bobby sigh, “I figured…” He said and trailed off for a moment, and when he began again…the boys gave me strange eyes. “Tora, I take it you’re indisposed?”

“Kinda got a gun to my head at the moment…but other then that, just peachy.” I chimed sarcastically and felt a shiver run through Dean’s arm that danced through the gun, probably leaving a nice mark on my forehead from the unrelenting pressure.

Suddenly Bobby’s voice bellowed, “Dean ease back and give the poor girl some space!”

Their expressions were priceless…as I waited, semi-patiently, for Dean to finally back off. He did, just very slowly, and kept the gun trained on me. “The hell is goin’ on Bobby?!” Dean asked, his voice rough from emotions he was trying to control.

I immediately rubbed the area where his barrel had been pressed against and snatched the Polaroid from his hand. “This Picture, is of Adam on his 15th birthday, John and see the girl? Huh?” I exclaimed pointing my finger at the picture to emphasize my point. “That’s Me. And if you’d taken a friggin’ second to read the back, it would have told you that.” I snapped, my voice low and irritated.

Bobby’s voice filled the air. “That the Polaroid?” He asked me and I nodded, but realized he couldn’t see me.

“Yes.” I replied and pocketed the picture before someone threw it in the fire.

“Boys, I’m gonna need you to listen.” Bobby began and paused long enough for Sam and Dean to pay attention. “This here, is Tora Morgan. And no, she ain’t yer sister. Yes, she’s a Hunter…you can thank your Daddy for that.” Right as he said that, Dean shot me a glare but Sam gave me calculating eyes. They exchanged an odd look when Bobby’s voice cut back in. “I’m sure ya’ll got a lot of catchin’ up to do, so play nice or I’m gonna drive out there and smack you both upside the head, ya hear me?”

The boys made faces and I smirked.

“Well?” Bobby asked, waiting for a response.

In unison the boys replied, “yes Bobby.”

“Well alright then… Tora, now don’t you forget to haul that beast of yours out here for those parts.” Bobby exclaimed and I chuckled.

“Yea, yea… I know.” I said and got another weird look from the brothers. “See ya Bobby.”

“Uh huh…damn kids.” He said and the line went dead.

I watched as Sam looked to his brother and handed him the cell phone. Dean retrieved it and placed it in the left pocket of his jeans, gun still in hand and gave me weary eyes.

I was about to add something when I got a face full of holy water. I blinked and wiped the cold water from my eyes. “Okay…understandable.” I said in a flat tone and gave Dean a glare that would haunt the devil. “Silver?” And just as I chimed this, Sam held a weird knife out to me, which I allowed him to place, flat side of the cool metal, against the palm of my hand. When there was no reaction, he took it back and I brought my hands up, knuckles facing out, flashing the eight silver rings that adorned my fingers. They exchanged another quick look. “Christo.” I bit out and they noticed my eyes remained normal. “I’m not a demon, nor a shape shifter, or a ghost, and I’m sure as hell not a Ghoul. Got anythin’ else you wanna test me with, besides my patience?”

“If you’re who you say you are… Why weren’t you here when your family needed you?” Dean snarled out at me, his eyes continuing to shoot daggers of distrust my way.

His words cut me deep but I didn’t allow him the satisfaction. Instead, I grew what I knew was a very unpleasant smile and growled back, “You know as well as I do that Hunting takes you far from home and I just happened to be tracking a Kishi Demon near Yellowstone for the last month and a half. I would’ve been home sooner had the sonuvabitch not gone into hiding once he picked up my scent!”

“Kishi Demon…” Dean spat with a disbelieving tone of voice and scoffed, “that’s made up.” he said looking over to Sam and then gave me his eyes, “You’re makin’ that up.”

My mind went into research mode and when I opened my mouth, information spilled forth on a wave of anger. “The Kishi is an Angola, two-faced, Demon hill species. He has a gorgeous human face that attracts his female victims while his true face, hidden behind a great deal of very long black hair on the back of his head, is that of a demonic hyena with jaws you can’t pry open with a car jack once it’s clamped down on something. They’re highly charming, intelligent, cunning and incredibly ruthless once the killing starts. It was pickin’ up young women at rest stops along the highway.” I paused when Dean gave me a smug, ‘I don’t buy your bullshit’ look.

I rolled my eyes and continued, “These bastards reel their sweet little meal in with that oh so heavenly face, and once he’s got his prey alone, his head pulls a full on exorcist, the human face suddenly hidden within that long hair and he then proceeds to chomp down on the poor girl…starting with her face…while she’s still very much alive.”

“If it’s as bad as you’ve described it to be,” Sam began to say, the chaos of his emotions dancing through his eyes with the firelight that illuminated the dark in a strange hellish glow and inquired, “Then how’d you kill it?”

I turned my attention to him, because unlike his smug looking, smart ass of an older brother, he was actually interested in what I had to say. “I got lucky.” I replied matter-of-factly and heard Dean scoff, again. This pissed me off, “You got somethin’ to add?” I spat in Dean’s direction and watched his eyes narrow.

“Sure, you got lucky with your make-believe Angelina-Demon.” He shot back in my direction and I quickly corrected him.

“It’s Angola, Get it right…ya idjit.” I barked between thinned lips and watched him roll his eyes at me.

“Whatever.” He retorted, not missing a beat and then chimed, “miss little Hunter over here,” he was motioning to me while looking to his brother Sam, “probably sprinkled some of that special kind of crazy dust that’s in her crazy head and it magically went poof.”

I took in a slow breath, knowing that my patience was just about depleted at this point and didn’t want to end up beatin’ the ever livin’ shit-outta him with the blunt end of my sawed off, double barrel shotgun that sat just within the inner lining of my trench coat. Instead, I decided a demonstration was the best way to get my point across.

“No, Sparky,” I chimed ever so sweetly and quickly slipped my hand inside the lining of my coat, retrieved the gauge and brought it out, “I had Ripley’s help.” My voice didn’t have time to fade off into the trees when a massive shot rang out, piercing the calm with a short, deafening boom of firepower.

The base of one of the trees closest to Dean’s head but just far enough away not to get him caught in the blast, exploded. He dropped down, hands covering his ears and immediately recovered, the whites of his wide gaze caused the green of his eyes to glitter like terrified jewels, “You fuckin’ crazy?!” He hollered and began dusting the pieces of debris from his leather jacket. “You almost took my god damned head off!”

I let the hot barrels, the ends still streaming with small swirls of smoke, rest against my right shoulder (which was protected by the worn leather of my coat) and smirked. “If I had aimed for your head, you wouldn’t be standing here, yelling at me. Now would you?” I purred in that ‘kiss my white ass’ tone and watched his face screw up in a strange, disgruntled frown. Which would’ve been comical…had it been any other point in time.

“So you blew it’s head off, big friggin’ deal.” Dean spat at me, inching away from the large hole still smoldering in the base of the tree, and got closer to his brother. “Anyone can do that.”

“Actually, I didn’t have time to blow its head off.” I retorted in a poisonous sneer and watched his brows furrow in an angry line of confusion. “I dropped Ripley when I was ambushed by the flesh-eating sonuvabitch.”

“Then why’d you just…” Sam interrupted and trailed off, the thumb and index finger of his right hand pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment.

“I got lucky.” I repeated again, slower that time and noticed the confusion the brothers shared as they exchanged yet another look.

Dean looked to Sam, looked to me, his mind obviously working on over time, glanced over at the head sized hole in the tree, then back to me when his brows shot up. “Then what the hell was that for?!” Dean roared, clearly pissed that I could’ve blown his head clear off his shoulders.

I smirked and waited just long enough for the barrels to finally cool so I could slip the gauge back into the inner lining of my trench. “To shut you up so I could finish.” I stated in a calm voice and slipped my now free hands into the deep pockets of my coat. “If I hadn’t, you would’ve kept runnin’ that mouth of yours.” I added and motioned to Sam, “Unlike your little brother who’s probably used to it, and considering the very bad day that I seem to continue having, I just honestly don’t have the patience to put up with your bullshit.”

“Huh.” Sam chimed in a low voice, blinked impressed eyes at me and seemed to find my method not only effective, but amusing. “You were being a dick, Dean.” He said in a softer voice and met with angry green eyes to his left. “I’m just sayin’.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at his brother and seeing no remorse in Sam’s gaze, he flapped his arms comically on his sides and huffed, “nice Sammy.” he quipped with a nasty smile on his lips, “very nice… Say, when you’re done sidin’ with little miss buckets-of-crazy over there, why don’t you just grab your shit and Walk to the next town over? How does that sound?”

I knew the one word that would make Dean give me his full and undivided attention, “Hey, Loser!” I exclaimed and got a deadly glare from Dean. “Why don’t you just let up already?” My voice appeared more exhausted, seein’ as I was pretty much done with his pigheaded behavior.

“Why don’t you just shut the hell up?” Dean snarled in a careful voice and pointed an accusing finger at me, “because you’re really gettin’ on my last nerve, Bitch.”

I gave him a flat and very unimpressed look. “You honestly don’t have a filter, do you?” I countered in a darker voice, finding Dean more and more irritating as time passed.

This time he took a step away from Sam and closer to me, his gait emitting a lot of very unpleasant vibes as he looked down into my eyes.

“Dean!” Sam called out to his brother and tried to clamp his big hand on his brother’s shoulder, but Dean merely jerked away from his grasp, hell bent on gettin’ in my face again. “Just let it go.” Sam instructed while physically getting in his brother’s way, placing himself between us.

“Move Sam.” Dean bit out between clenched teeth but Sam wouldn’t be persuaded otherwise.

Sam shook his head and calmly stated, “No.” knowing that his big brother was almost at that dangerous level of snapping. “I’m serious Dean, this isn’t the time or place to go off half-cocked.”

Dean just looked up into his baby brother’s serious eyes, clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and scoffed, his smile disbelieving. “No, I’m serious Sam. Move.” Dean ordered while glaring into his brother’s defiant face and inched forward, noting to his dismay that Sam would not be moved. “God damn it Sammy move outta my way or so help me…”

Dean tried to quickly side step his little brother when Sam’s left leg shot out, pushing Dean’s legs out from underneath him, threw his arms out and latched onto Dean’s shoulders, throwing him flat onto his back while pinning him with his weight. A soft thump sounded as they hit the moist forest floor.

“Damn it Dean!” Sam almost shouted and shook Dean’s broad shoulders for emphasis as Dean gave him a stunned expression. “Enough!” Sam added, his face and tone softening as he pleaded to his big brother to just let it go. “Please?”

I watched from a safe distance as the honey red glow of the fire showered them in soft, warm light. Dean’s expression melted from being stunned to a calm, controlled anger, a face I’d seen on John a few times in my young life. The resemblance I witnessed made my stomach screw up into painful knots, like a Viper’s nest filled with hundreds of writhing, twisting, hatchlings tangled in a mess of hissing confusion. That’s how my insides felt…completely warped and mangled at the look on Dean’s face…a look I had burned into the back of my skull.

I didn’t want them to fight. Not now…not after…

I’d shot my mouth off and gotten a typical Winchester response. I should’ve known Dean would be so much like his Father when it came to that god damned temper. John and I had gotten into a few spats, and even though they’d never escalated to this level, the way we bickered was in the same defiant fashion. I let my gaze drop to the tips of my boots, closed my eyes and with a deep breath, opened them and proceeded in silence, breathing out slowly, toward the pillar that continued to crackle softly, the flames licking the cold night air, unaffected by the argument between the living.

I swallowed, a hard lump of realization that this burning body, being reduced to nothing more then shadows and dust, was that of my precious baby brother…

I suppose my sudden silence had caught the brothers attention. I could sense Dean had a strong dislike for me but I wasn’t phased by it. Sam had intervened, calm and controlled…another trait I’d personally experienced when John had to get my thickheaded attention. They were both so much like the man I had seen as a father…but of course, so very different.

I had become humbled as I stood so very close to the quiet inferno before me. My rage silenced by the sight of the second most important thing that had existed in my life…as it was now being consumed in the heat that danced wickedly a few feet in front of me. It almost felt like it was mocking me as it devoured the remains of my gentle hearted Adam…and I would never get that back…a chance to feel his arms around me as he hugged me after a long absence. Hearing him call me big sister when he was trying in desperation to break my attention away from a good horror movie. The look his big blue eyes would get when I’d bring him a small trinket I’d picked up on the road… It was never much, but he’d had always cherished the silly damned things I’d gotten him.

He never really asked me what it was that I did, or why it kept me from home for weeks and sometimes, even months at a time. Adam was just always so happy to see me when I had a chance to visit. I still don’t understand why he’d looked up to me the way that he did… Maybe he understood how much I had to give up…my childhood for instance, forced to become an adult before I even understand the true meaning to the word puberty. Having to keep an eye on him, take care of him because Mom…Kate, had to work two god-forsaken jobs.

From the moment I was seven, up until my late teens I had the responsibility of raising the little squirt. I wasn’t allowed the luxury of having any kind of life outside of him. I didn’t go out to the movies or parties, I didn’t go on dates or have a steady boyfriend. Not that I was all that interested, my options being few and far between. It was my responsibility to basically raise my little brother. And the funny thing is…even though I acted like it bugged me or that his presence irritated my very existence, I was actually fine with it.

I’d never liked outsiders anyway. The ones that tried in vain to force their friendship on me. They were all so incredibly plastic. Because I knew, I was known as the town’s ‘freak’, the ‘oddball’, or my personal favorite, ‘that creepy Milligan bitch’. To them, I was more of an alien that needed probing and prodding to see how I worked.

There were only a very small handful of strangers I’d allowed into my life, composed of mostly gear heads and motor heads. Guys that were a lot like John and tended to drive my Mother crazy with their classic cars rumbling on the street at Two o’clock in the morning. But they were more like acquaintances then real friends.

The only true, genuine friend that accepted me for who I really was as person…was little Adam.

Of course there was John…but come on, the man disappeared every chance he got. When I left, I’d made friends with Bobby Singer, and surprisingly we’d bonded the first time we met. Maybe it was that strange familiarity I’d felt when I first looked at his name written in John’s scribble on that piece of paper…which I continued to carry with me even as I stood watching the pillar burning in the darkness of the quiet forest.

Ellen Harvelle was another story… I’d made the wise decision of meeting Bobby first. He’d told me that I had to act dumb if John’s name ever came up in Ellen’s presence. Never really told me why, but I trusted Bobby. So when I was finally introduced to the road house I was immediately accepted, as though I was a welcome change. I remember meeting Joanna Beth who only went by Jo, her hard-as-nails mother Ellen and that crazy-genius sonuvabitch known as Ash. I honestly loved being there, with people that knew the kind of work I was in…it was refreshing.

I remember stayin’ awhile, just shootin’ the shit with Jo at the bar when someone, another Hunter I think it was, brought John’s name up in a conversation. I don’t remember the particulars of what he was saying because I noticed something… It was just a quick shimmer in Ellen’s eyes, but I’d caught it. There was some bad blood there too…(which made me wonder how many people John had pissed off) but I let it be. I knew that in time, I’d learn the reason behind that unknown emotion I saw flicker through her keen brown eyes.

Throughout the years, I’d grown close with that small crew that worked the Road House and the day the fire brought it to no more then cinders…my heart broke at the news that Ash, who’d I’d actually grown fond of, kinda like that goofy guy a girl adores, but could never see herself get romantically involved with…no matter how hard he hit on her… He was one of the many casualties of that terrible tragedy. When Bobby informed me that Ellen and Jo were still in the game, I was flooded with a great deal of relief.

Jo and I kept in contact as she moved herself to Duluth Minnesota, very close to my home town compared to Bobby who was stationed in South Dakota. I’d visited her occasionally when I had time between jobs, never tellin’ her about how I’d truly gotten into hunting. I missed her, hadn’t spoken to her in awhile…

My brain snapped back into my current reality and I could sense the boys had straightened up and were now mere bystanders as I let my gaze remain unfocused in the flames. “I don’t expect you to trust me, let alone like me,” my voice was a low rumble but I knew they were paying attention as I spoke into the chilly forest air, “I can imagine the betrayal you’re feeling… Knowing that your father had kept something like this from you. Can’t say that I really blame you…” I paused to clear the lump from the back of my throat. “Just be lucky that you met a false Adam, because if anything…you didn’t know him like I did. He was all I had and I did everything in my power to keep him away from Hunting… From The Family Business.”

“Wait, what did you just say?” Sam asked in a soft, puzzled voice that actually caused me to break my eyes away from the flames.

“The Family Business.” Dean said, answering for me with a rough edge to his raspy voice.

My brow furrowed at the strange expression they were giving me. “Yes, The Family Business…” I repeated thoughtfully, slowly catching on that they knew that phrase. “Why? Where’ve you heard that before?” I asked, not sure where they’d heard that because I was the only one, I knew…that ever said it.

Dean’s eyes filled with an unreadable emotion when he rumbled, “Dad…that’s what he called Hunting.”

This time it was my eyes that widened. “What?” I spat out in surprise…finding this all suddenly eerie. “I never said that in front of him and I never heard him say it.”

Sam’s face, so many emotions he seemed to wear through those damned eyes of his…it looked painful. “You thought it, but never said it.” He stated, voice taking on a broken tone.

I gave a slow nod and licked my lips, “that’s right.” I replied, voice calm and thoughtful.

Dean narrowed his gaze at me, not out of suspicion or anger, but the only way I could describe it…is the wheels within his mind had began turning, working over equations I would never understand. It was the first time I saw his intelligence looking back at me, curious but weary. It was as though I were peering into the eyes of a Wolf.

“Huh…” He said finally with a strange calm hovering around his body. As if what I’d said had triggered something inside of him.

I was at a loss as to what I should say. I looked from one Winchester to the other, noticing the way they watched me, watching them. No one speaking, thoughts swimming through the night air like fireflies waiting to be plucked and placed into jars. I finally averted my eyes, back to the fire, to the body of my little brother…my life, becoming nothing more then shadows…and dust.

An uncomfortable quiet followed. I knew they were unnerved by me as they stood there, watching me in my tortured silence. I could sense the mixed emotions that swirled inside them at my presence. Their emotions were almost tangible to me as the fire burned and the darkness swelled against me. I could feel their pain, their regret…I could feel an underlining of betrayal and anger…but it wasn’t toward me. I knew they felt broken over what had happened, of the body that continued to burn against the moisture in the air that hung like some eerie preternatural veil just beneath the tree line above our heads. But I ignored it, ignored them and their questioning eyes and brought myself closer to the pillar of fire… And watched…as the one thing that ever truly mattered to me…faded into nothing more then ash.

I’d lost everything… And as I stood there in my thoughtful reserve, I watched as the very last cinder of my baby brother, took flight into a windless night… It almost seemed to dance toward me, as though it were being moved by unseen hands… I held my breath in that broken moment as the cinder; glowing red with life, floated closer, carefully it seemed… Only to come to rest against the flesh of my left cheek. I felt the burn just when the soft crackle touched my ears as it singed my skin before being extinguished by a lone tear that had somehow escaped my unblinking eyes.

It was in that single moment…I realized… I was very much alone.

And I had no one to blame…but myself.

* * * * *End Part Two* * * * *