Title: Becca Winchester
Disclaimer: I dont own Sam or Dean. I do own Becca.
My brother Sam always wanted a normal life. I couldn't even imagine one. Even without the fact that my brothers and I hunt and fight the paranormal, I'd still have an odd life. John Winchester, my father, adopted me when I was just a baby. He came to help my parents remove a spirit from our house and saved me from the wrath of the ghoul. Unfortunately, he could not save my mother and father. He knew what would be done with me if the authorities took me. I would be resigned to the fate he feared most for his children. Foster home to foster home. Shelter to shelter. Hardly a chance for a happy ending. A life alone.
So he took me in. My brothers were ecstatic. Dean, who was nine at the time, saw me as he saw most things: a challenge. Sam was five and to him I was another way to emulate Dean, something he loved to do. Now he could be a big brother too.
My father never lied to my brothers and me. So soon after I turned seven and he thought I was old enough to understand, he told me about what it was he did. What he really did. Why we had to move so often. Why he was ALWAYS out with either Dean left to watch me and Sam. And why I never really looked like the three of them. Dean and Sam begged him not to tell me. They said I was too young.
"I don't believe you." I said with quivering lips and tear filled eyes. "Why are you saying this Daddy?"
"Becca, you need to understand what's out there. I just want you to be safe." He said.
Tears streamed down my face. "You're lying Daddy! Sammy, tell him he's lying." Sam would make it better. I knew he would. But he didn't. I went over to Dean. "Dean, make Daddy stop lying." I looked up at my brother, who at sixteen hovered over me like a giant. I wanted to look in his eyes and see the truth, but he wouldn't even look at me. I ran to my room and cried.
My brothers soon followed me. "Bex?" Sam said sitting down on my bed.
Dean sat on the other side of me.
"It IS true, isn't it?" I asked. "Everything Daddy said."
"Yes it is." Dean sighed
"But… does that mean I don't have a family?"
"Of course you do." Sam said.
"Yeah what are we chopped liver?" Dean said ruffling my hair. "Huh am I chopped liver Becca Anne?"
"No." I said with a little smile. Dean never failed to get a smile out of me when he called me that.
"No?" He started tickling me. "No what?"
"NO!" I giggled "You're not chopped liver!"
"No we're not. We're your brothers." Dean said and he stopped tickling me.
"And Dad's your father. We're family, no matter what. Okay?" Sam said.
"Hey Sammy." I said and hopped onto the kitchen counter. "Whatcha doin?"
I looked over at the chore chart my Dad made (aside from the parts on it about who had to polish and clean the weapons, it was one of the only normal things we had in the house.)
"But its Dean's week to do the dishes." I said.
"I said a swear word and Dad heard me so now I have to do the dishes even though he and Dean swear all the time. Anyways he's out with Dean teaching him to drive."
"When I'm biggerer will I be able to drive like Dean and Daddy, Sammy?" I asked.
"Yup." He said. "But I'll drive first cuz I'm older."
"Oh…Hey Sammy? When you're biggerer, will you teach me how to drive a car?"
"It's bigger Bex…You don't want Daddy to teach you? Like he's teaching Dean." He asked.
"Well… I mean… I know he doesn't mean to but…well sometimes when Daddy teaches me stuff he gets real mad at me cuz I forget or I mess up. Like when last week when I couldn't figure out how to load the gun quiet like he does. He just kept huffing and getting angry and he even said a naughty word. It's different when you teach me. Like 'member when you taught how to ride your bike. That was fun. And you didn't care how many times I messed up. And… you never get mad at me."
(Sam stopped what he was doing. He was only twelve years old and compared to his father and brother, he always felt so helpless. But here was someone who not only wanted his help-she needed it. He always thought of Becca as a little sister, but in that moment he realized she wasn't just a little sister-she was HIS little sister.)
The next week
When me and Sam came home from school, we found Dad and Dean had started to pack up some of our stuff. "We're moving again?" Sam asked. "We just got here."
"We got a paying gig in Colorado. Seems like it could take some time, so we gotta get a move on. Sammy go pack up yours and Becca's stuff. Becca start moving some of the smaller boxes to the car, would ya?"
"Okay Daddy." I sighed. I didn't want to move. I liked the kids at my new school and even the teacher was nice. Plus there was a park just two blocks away. But mostly I wanted to stay because I knew Sam and Dean both liked it there. Sam had Dean forge a signature on his fake transcript that put him in harder classes and Dean had a "bad boy" reputation at the high school since he hardly went and got himself into the bars. While the adults in town didn't really like that, a different girl fell in love with his tough image every other day. I knew he would miss it. Dean didn't get a chance to have very many girlfriends. I was so busy feeling sorry for my brothers that I accidentally dropped the two boxes I was carrying. I winced as I heard the object inside clink around and a box break. Sam and Dad entered the room.
"Damn it Rebecca!" Dad said angered. He knelt down and went to check the pendants and medallions that fell.
"I'm sorry Daddy." I said quietly.
"Thank God that these didn't break. Those were expensive. You never pay attention Rebecca."
"You're sorry. Sorry wouldn't have given me my money back if they were broken would it?" Dad asked.
"No sir" I said trying hard not to cry. I heard Dean honk the horn out in the driveway.
"Damn it! We need to go." he said again. Sam came over and squeezed my shoulder.
"I didn't mean it Sammy I…"
"I know kiddo. " He started to help me repack the box.
"Sam, go finish packing. She'll do it on her own." Dad said.
"Do I need to repeat myself young man?" Dad asked.
Sam glared at Dad. "She's just a little girl." He said as he went back to follows Dad's orders.
Once we got to a hotel and settled down for the night, Daddy tucked me in and told me he was sorry for yelling at me. He told me that I always needed to be careful, because one day I would begin to hunt and recklessness would get me hurt. He stroked my hair and told me he'd always love me and I believed him.
That's the way it always went. Daddy would get mad and then apologize, because that's what he did. And I believed he did it to protect me. Sam or Dean would save me, because that's what they did. And I believed they did it to protect me. And me… I would forgive Daddy and be grateful to my brothers and love them all. I guess that's what I did to protect myself.
1 year later
All I can say is, if you're gunna have kids, don't have them five years apart. A little after I turned eight, Sammy and me started to fight almost everyday. I was smack dab in the middle of my childhood rebellion and he'd just started puberty (neither age is a very fun time for any figure of authority).
I ran to my father's room with Sam right behind me, but we quickly realized he'd gone on a hunting trip. We went to the kitchen and found Dean making breakfast.
"Dean! Sam pushed me!" I pouted.
"She stepped on my algebra book Dean" Sam explained. "That's the one Dad paid 27 bucks for!"
"That's not my fault. He left it on the floor." I said. "I didn't mean to do it!"
"Would you two knock it off." Dean sighed. "I'm really not in the mood for this today."
"You did too!" Sam said ignoring Dean.
"GUYS!" Dean shouted. " You're both late for school and trying my patience. Apologize to each other, sit down, eat your breakfast and, I swear, the next person who ticks me off is getting a spanking."
"Sorry Sam." I mumbled.
"Sorry Becca." Sam said .
Neither of us was really sorry. But Dean wasn't real the spanking type. He didn't even like to threaten it. I mean, when Dad left him in charge he'd punish us if he had to. Mostly with pointless extra chores that sucked because of my impatient nature and Sam's need to fill any spare time with schoolwork. Still, even with it being boring, we were thankful that Dean was punishing us and not Dad. It seemed like me and Sam couldn't go one week without one of us getting a spanking when Dad was home. I mean it wasn't like he was abusive or anything. Like I said, we were both just at that age. Dean tried to be nice about it. But even though we knew he didn't like to, when he was really encouraged, Dean's spankings could really hurt and they'd stick just as long as Dad's. So we choose to glare at each other from across the table.
Dean made us both sit in the backseats on the way to school, because he didn't want a fight over shotgun. I pinched Sam's elbow so he kicked my lunchbox.
"What's going back there?" Dean asked.
"Nothing." Sam said quickly.
Looking back, I feel bad for Dean. He had to grow up a lot that year. It was his senior year and he hardly even went to school. Most kids his age were going to parties, being wild and falling in love and… basically just being kids. Dean was in essence a seventeen year old single father of two. He had all the responsibilities of being an adult and none of the benefits.