Disclaimers- I don't own any of these characters. (I just like to play with them)
AN: This is my first supernatural fan fiction, usually I write Bones—but I fell in love with these characters when I rented all of the seasons. I think that the camaraderie between the brothers is absolutely fantastic. I hope to capture them accurately. Please review and let me know what you think!
Just as a little side note, this story takes place about six weeks after Jess is killed.
The bar was dive. Of course, that was nothing new to the Winchesters. However, this one might top the list, Dean thought wryly. The lighting in the joint was so poor, that it was hard to make out the patrons across the room. There was a heavy scent of fried food, stale cigarettes, old beer, and urine—all mingling together to create an oppressive cloud of nastiness. Fortunately, after a couple of drinks, his senses had become more accustomed to the smell and it was almost bearable. Almost.
Trying to make the best of his night, Dean leaned forward, eyeing the woman beside him appreciatively. She may not have been the most attractive woman he'd ever come across, but she was the first one he'd seen in this God forsaken town of Cold Creek, Wisconsin, that had all of her teeth. Her breasts were nearly spilling out of the top of her too tight black dress. To a casual observer, Dean appeared completely enraptured in what Susan? Sally—wait, Sandy? Whatever, he appeared completely engrossed in what the woman was saying—or rather, the way her breasts bounced as she gestured animatedly with her hands.
However, this wasn't the case. Throughout his conversation with Sa… whatever, he had kept Sammy in his line of sight. Ever since Dean had yanked his baby brother out of the room were his lover was engulfed in flames just over six weeks ago—the concern he felt was nearly debilitating. God, how he wished he could spare Sammy that kind of pain. With a weary sigh, Dean turned his eyes toward his brother, no longer bothering with the pretense of being absorbed in this woman of whom he couldn't even name. The sight of the youngest Winchester sitting alone in the corner of the bar, staring into his beer as if it held the secret of life, sent a shard of pain lancing through his chest.
"Are you even listening?" At the shrill voice, Dean's eyes snapped back toward the blonde. He shrugged, wondering for the hundredth time that hour why he was wasting time with this broad when his brother sat suffering twenty yards away.
Because he needs to figure this out alone, he thought sadly. Dean might tease Sam about being a chick, into that touchy feely shit—but the truth was, Sam was like the rest of the Winchester men. Reserved, stubborn…they would rather suffer in silence than burden others with their pain. Well, that and the fact that they didn't like to show their weakness. A trait passed down from their father, no doubt. Dean sighed again, and turned back to the woman in front of him. He should be celebrating right now—he and Sam finished their latest job without even getting hurt. It was a first for them. Instead, he was sitting at the bar worrying over his little brother. Perhaps it was because of the nightmares that jolted Sammy out of a deep sleep—choking on a scream. Or perhaps it was because, while Dean pretended to be asleep, saving Sammy from the embarrassment, he listened to the sobs that racked his brother's body. Tears would well in Dean's eyes, as he listened to the heart-wrenching noises. This feeling of helplessness was new to Dean, and he hated it.
"You son of a bitch!" Dean was yanked out of his reverie by an angry shout, he leapt to his feet so fast, he knocked the bar stool over. There was a leather clad thug inches from his brother, but that wasn't what propelled Dean to his feet. It was the six inch long blade that he waved in Sam's face. His brother held his hands out—trying to placate the irate drunk. Dean was halfway across the bar when a young woman stepped out of the shadows, directly between his brother and the soon-to-be dead man. Dean froze in his steps, arching an eye brow. He couldn't see the woman's face because she had her back to him—but he could certainly make out the chrome piece glinting in her hand.
"Back off." She growled. The man in front of her sized her up, assessing the threat.
Finally he smirked. "What's a little thing like you doing with a big boy's toy?"
Dean would have loved to see the look on this mystery woman's face at that moment. Although he didn't know her worth a damn, he had a sneaking suspicion that she didn't take kindly to being talked down to, by anybody—especially men.
She lowered her gun slow and deliberate, until it was aimed at the most sensitive spot on a man, and racked the slide, chambering a round. "Listen buddy, I'm in the middle of a really bad day here. My car shit the bed on the highway about fifteen miles south of here. Cell service doesn't work in this damn town, and apparently, nobody likes to go any where—because I wasn't passed by one single car on my very long walk to town." Her voice grew stronger, and more heated with each word. "All as I want is a beer… and a bed. Right now, you are keeping me from acquiring either of those. So if you think for one second that I won't plug your ass—well then, I guess we'll just have to start calling you Sally."
Covering his groin with one hand, the man backed away, disappearing through the door. The woman snorted in disgust and turned to face them, de-cocking her gun as she did so, and sliding it into its holster. It was such a fluid motion that Dean briefly wondered if maybe she was a cop. Then their eyes met, and Dean felt as if his world was suddenly thrown off its axis. Holy Shit! Could it be? Of course it was! Dean berated himself. He'd recognize those haunting eyes anywhere. He'd never seen a color like that in all of his life, and he was fairly certain that he never would. Dark blue rings framing, silver irises—it was a mesmerizing effect. Even as a child, the emotions that her eyes evoked in him were severe, almost…painful. He remembered the first time he saw those eyes…
Dean rushed through the throngs of children, shouldering them out of the way in his haste. His teacher held him after class to talk to him about his English paper. He didn't know what the big deal was, any way. The assignment had been to write about a "life changing event." Well that was what he had written about. The night his mom died was obviously the most life changing event that a ten year old boy would ever experience right? It's not like he left in the parts about it being demon related. She pulled him aside to talk to him about the "tragic event" and asked if he "needed anything." Like she'd never come across a motherless child before, Dean scoffed. Now he was ten minutes late meeting Sammy, he shuddered just thinking what kind of trouble his six year old little brother could get into in that amount of time.
As Dean rounded the corner of the building, the sight that greeted him sent a wave of white hot fury lancing through his small frame. Sammy was on the ground with tears streaked down his chubby cheeks, an older boy, who looked to be about Dean's age stood over him laughing.
"Oh, what's the matter little baby? You need your mommy?" The kid taunted.
That spurred Dean into action, he made it about half way to the bully with fists clenched, when a little girl stepped out of nowhere and swung her lunch box at the boy with enough force to make any little league coach proud. There was a resounding crack as the hard lunch box connected with the kids skull. Dean couldn't help but wince as the boy crumpled to the ground sobbing loudly.
"That will teach you to pick on someone your own size, Johnny Pierson!" She shouted indigently. Dean had to bite his tongue to keep from pointing out that she was a far cry from being "his size." In fact, she may have been closer to Sammy's size. When the bigger kid picked himself off the ground and ran away, with a clichéd—"you'll be sorry," Dean approached his little brother.
"Hey kiddo, you alright?" He asked gently. Sammy looked up at Dean with impossibly large hazel eyes, and held his arms out. Leaning over, Dean scooped up his little brother, and held him against his chest in a tight hug.
"That boy pushed me down Dean." He whispered.
"Yeah, well…he got his." Dean replied, looking at the little imp over the top of his brother's head. She looked up, at his words, meeting his eyes for the first time. Dean felt as if someone knocked the wind out of him. It wasn't just the eerie shade of silver, off set by the long black curls that hung loosely around her face—but there was something distinctly…world weary about them. As if she had seen too much horror in her short life. Dean recognized the look, because he saw it every time he looked in the mirror. Yet, at the same time, all of his instincts were screaming at him to protect this girl.
"I'm Jade." She said finally, squirming under his scrutiny.
Snapping out of his stupor, he offered her a cheeky grin. "I'm Dean. This is my brother Sammy."
"Jade?" He finally choked out. Watching as a torrent of emotions played across her face, Dean had always been able to read her like a book—and the years apart hadn't changed that. Confusion, followed by recognition, and finally settling on surprise.
"Dean?" She whispered. Then, as an after thought, her eyes grew impossibly wide, and she turned to Sam. She had to crane her neck just to see his face. "Holy…shit." She muttered. Glancing back at Dean she said, "Bet you're wishing you ate some of your own damn Brussels sprouts now, huh?"
Dean's brows furrowed at her question until he remembered the way he was always tricking Sam into eating his Brussels sprouts when they were little. He would tell him that they were "magic Brussels sprouts" and would make him grow like the bean stock from Sammy's favorite story.
Both men seemed to remember this simultaneously, because they both let out a bark of laughter at the same time. Sam seemed to recover from his shock over seeing her first—because he leaned down and picked Jade up in a suffocating hug. Dean chuckled, seeing her feet dangling a good foot off the ground.
"Damn Jade," Sam said, emotion making his voice hoarse. "I never thought I'd see you again."
Jade grabbed his brother's face with both hands and planted a friendly kiss right smack on his lips. "I missed you Sammy."
He smiled. "I missed you too."
"Oh I see. She can call you Sammy but I can't?" Dean teased. In truth, couldn't have been happier. He hadn't seen Sam this light hearted in years. Of course, Jade always had that effect on them as children. "Alright, hand her over."
Sam gave her a sheepish smile before setting her back on her feet.
Dean grabbed her by the shoulders and held her at an arms length for a moment. "Let me get a look at you." He said softly. It had been twelve years since he last saw her. Twelve long years. She had only been twelve at the time, two years younger then him—yet she looked much younger. She still did in fact, if it wasn't for her eyes, she could probably pass for seventeen. Dean took in every inch of her, from her torn jeans, hanging low on her hips, to the slightly dirty wife beater. Her hair was thrown haphazardly into a pony tail. She looked beautiful. He couldn't help but notice that her face had lost its cherub look, replaced by high cheek bones. Her lips looked fuller then they used to.
"What? I feel like a prized mare being sized up for auction Dean." She teased lightly. Rewarded by a blush sweeping across Dean's face, he finally pulled her against his chest. She was about a foot shorter then his six foot one frame, so her face was literally smashed against his chest. Her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, and she held him as if he'd disappear. Again.
Jade turned her head to rest against Dean's strong chest, and let out a long sigh. For the first time in many years she felt as if she were home. Tears formed in her eyes as she realized that she wouldn't have much time to reunite with the brothers. The men that were after her would love to find somebody that meant something to her...so they could torture her with it. She new the life that Dean and Sam led, knew that they could handle themselves, but she would never risk them. Not them. In the four years that they had known each other, those boys came to mean more to her than anyone else in the world. It was the reason she never tried to seek them out. Her life went from bad to worse, and she would never willing drag the only two people in this world that she loved into it.
Dean took her face with both hands and pressed his soft lips against her forehead. She bit her lip to choke back a sob. How could God be so cruel? Why would he throw them into her path knowing she would have to walk away? She didn't know if her heart could take that kind of pain again.
AN: Okay, guys. A bit long winded, but it's just an introduction. The next chapters will offer Sam POV, as well as more from Jade. Also, there will be a flash back in each one, because their past will play an intricate role in the story. Lots of protective brothers, angsty and fluffy moments, as well as lots of action. Stick with me guys, I promise to deliver a great story!
PLEASE REVIEW!! I'd love to know your thoughts, opinions, etc.