Second Chances

Ok…so I know that I still have another story in the works, but this has been sitting in my nightstand drawer for the last several months. It just felt so wrong to not post it. I'm a HUGE HUGE HUGE Brooke/Dean shipper. I think they would make THE perfect couple, and I really wish that they could somehow do some crossover episode or something. But this idea came to me awhile ago and I started putting my thoughts down on paper. So this is the result. Let me know what y'all think!!

Summary: Nearly four years ago, Dean Winchester left behind the one thing he cared about most. Now a pleading phone call sends him back to the town he fled, but can he face those he abandoned and the one woman who stole his heart? Or will he be forced to live with the results of his decision?

Author's Notes: Set sometime after the first season finale of Supernatural and the fifth season of One Tree Hill. For this story, Brooke didn't immediately go to New York after the summer was over. She came back to One Tree Hill to start up the company but eventually went into business with Victoria after Dean left.


Chapter One

The high pitched, trilling laughter was grating his last nerve.

Sam Winchester glanced up from his newspaper, eying his older brother and the blonde bimbo that hung on his arm. He rolled his eyes as Dean crooned something into her ear, and her laughter pealed from her lips again.

If there was one thing his older brother was a pro at, it was finding the easiest girl in a bar and making fast work of the fling that would follow.

Of course, after hunting, that is.

The tabletop started to vibrate suddenly, and Sam reached across, snatching his brother's ringing cell phone. The caller ID read unknown, and Sam looked up, holding it over his head to get Dean's attention. Dean's view was blocked by a head of unnaturally blonde hair, and he sighed.

"Hello?" he said, flipping the phone open.

"Dean Winchester?" a man asked on the other end.

"Uh, no. This is his brother, Sam. Dean's a bit…tied up at the moment." Granted, it was by a pair of freakishly tanned arms, but tied up all the same. "Is there something I can help you with?"

The caller sighed. "Look, I really need to talk to Dean. It's pretty urgent. Is there any way you can get a hold of him?"

The man sounded desperate. Sam sighed. "Hold on," he said, rising from his stool and heading towards the bar. Dean and the girl were locked at the mouth, and Sam lowered his gaze, uncomfortable. He stopped before them and said his brother's name twice before he caught his attention.

"What?" Dean demanded, irritated.

Sam held up the phone. "Guy says it's pretty urgent."

Dean chuckled. "Look, Sam. I'm kind of in the middle of something. Can you take a message?" Sam shrugged and Dean sighed. "Who is it?"

Sam put the phone to his ear and asked. "Says his name is Nathan Scott."

He frowned as the color drained from Dean's face. "Dean?" the phone was yanked from his hand and Dean walked towards the door, phone already pressed to his ear, leaving Sam and the blonde—Marsha, he remembered now—staring after him.

"Okay," Marsha said. "Don't tell me the draft guy called him into war now."

Sam closed his eyes, laughing.

Only Dean.


Dean held the phone to his ear, not opening his mouth until he stood next to his car and made sure he was alone. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Nathan?"

"Dean," Nathan replied.

"I've got to say, you're one of the last people I expected to hear from." Nathan chuckled quietly on the other line.

They were both quiet for a long moment before Dean spoke again. "To what do I owe the honor? Is…everyone okay?"

Nathan chuckled again. "By everyone, I'm assuming you mean one person in particular. She's fine, don't worry. That's not why I'm calling. I need your help."


Sam found Dean leaning against the Impala, ankles crossed, a far-off look on his face. "Dude, how the hell you pick these girls is way beyond me," he said, coming to a stop next to him. "I just spent the last ten minutes listening to Marsha complain about the draft, and wondering why football players are so excited to go to war every year." He laughed, shaking his head, then frowned when he caught sight of his brother's somber expression. "Dean?"

No response.

"Dean? What's wrong?"

Dean held up his phone before stuffing it into his jacket pocket. "What was Nathan, an old…friend. Haven't heard from him in almost four years."

Sam nodded. That would be why he'd never heard about him. It had been during their time of no communication. "Okay. What did he want?"

"Help," Dean replied. "He thinks something is hunting kids in his town, making it look like a kidnapping. Says it sounds like our kind of thing."

"Okay, so let's head over there. We haven't had a decent hunt in awhile." He walked over the passenger side of the car and pulled open the door. "Where's he at?"

Dean sighed, turning to look at him. "North Carolina. But we're not going."

"What? Why not?"

"It's just complicated, Sam," he said, pulling open his own door and climbing in. Sam followed suit, frowning, and continued to stare at his brother. Dean kept his eyes forward, gritting his teeth. "Don't," he said. "Don't start."

"I just don't get it," Sam said. "You're the one who always wants a good hunt, and now that we may have one, you don't want to take it. What's so bad about this Nathan guy?"

"It's not Nathan, Sam, so just let it go alright?" He turned the key in the ignition, and the Impala roared to life, AC/DC blaring through the speakers.

"Dean," Sam said, but as cut off immediately.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, smacking the steering wheel. "Drop it."

Sam stared at him, then nodded, knowing that now was not the time to argue with his brother, and sat back as Dean peeled from the parking lot.


Back at the motel, Dean lied in his bed in the dark, staring at the ceiling, as he listened to his brother's even breathing.

One simple phone call, and suddenly his life was turned upside down.

"What kind of help?"

"The kind that you're an expert at. Kids are disappearing. Kids that go to school with my son, that live in our neighborhood. The cops are saying it's kidnapping, but I don't buy it."

"Why not?"

"There's no ransom notes, no signs of forced entry. The kids are just gone, with no one seeing anything or anyone." Nathan sighed, and Dean heard the sound of a chair scraping the floor. "Look, you know I wouldn't call you if I thought is was just a kidnapping."

Dean nodded, silent.

"Dean…these are kids that Jamie sees everyday, that play with him all the time. Please. I'm begging you. I need your help."

Dean sighed, throwing back the covers and switching on the lights in a single motion.

"Get up, Sammyboy," he yelled, tossing his brother's bag onto his bed. Sam stirred, squinting against the light, and looked up at him. Dean pulled his shirt over his head. "Let's go, get a move on. We're burning daylight."

Sam looked at the clock. "It's 3 a.m."

"Whatever," Dean said, stuffing his things into this duffel.

Sam sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and watched his brother dart around their motel room, picking up discarded clothing and books. "Dean, what are you talking about?" he mumbled around a yawn, looking longingly back at his pillow.

"Like you said, Sammy, a hunt's a hung, and Nathan needs help." He smirked at him as he zipped up his bag. "We're going to Tree Hill."


Yay!! It's finally started!! So review and let me know what you think. I'm posting the next chapter shortly since it's all typed up, but I'd love to hear what you think!