AN: This is the first story that I've attempted for about six years maybe? Any comments, questions, or concerns you readers have would be greatly appreciated. Please rate and review, and favorite if you like the story!

Disclaimer: Things I own: "Lucy Redmond" and the storyline involving her.

Things I do not own: Everything else, Supernatural, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, etc.

Chapter One

Things weren't right at home. I'm not sure exactly when it started, but I know for sure that it's not good. My mom has always been a strong person, never needing a man to help out or offer a shoulder. She always had a way of figuring out tough situations. If you were to meet my mom today, you'd be meeting a different person than the one I grew up with.

"Mom…" I called out to her as I knocked on her door. When she didn't go in to work she locked herself up in her bedroom.

"… John… thing… Just a minute girly! … Please…" I couldn't make out everything she was whispering, but I could guess that she was leaving another message for 'John.' Every couple of days she would call and leave him a message, but I have no idea if he ever checked his voicemails. Probably not.

A couple more seconds passed and my mom cracked open her door. "Yes darlin'?"

"You never made it to Teacher-Parent night, so I need you to sign my grade report." I had both a pen and the paper in my hand, but she wasn't taking them.

"They still make you do that in high school?" She took a step into the doorway.

"Yeah. It's stupid, I know, but that's what they want." I flapped the paper in front of her, hoping she'd at least acknowledge it.

She looked down at the paper and back up to me a time or two. I gave her a look and she finally grabbed the paper from me, shutting the door and finally signing the damn thing. She opened the door to give me back the paper, but she kept the pen. It didn't make any difference to me, so I thanked her and let her go back to whatever. Sometimes I heard her praying, sometimes I heard her crying. As I turned down the hallway to the living room, I found out today was angry 'whispering.' Whoever this John guy was, he needed to call her back. I wasn't sure how much more I could take of her new habits.

The next day at school I handed in my grade report and went to all my classes as usual. Everyone had stopped asking me about my mother after I had made a scene about how I didn't know what the hell was going on. She was supposed to be on the school board, but she stepped down a few days before she went locking herself up in her room. I was worried of course, but if my mom wasn't being strong, then I had to be strong for her. I know that's what she would have wanted.

During lunch my cell phone rang. It was my mother. She told me to come home right away. I told her she had to call the office to have them let me leave or else I'd get in trouble. She stumbled over her words and hung up. From what I could tell, she never called them. I was never paged over the intercom.

For the rest of my day, I had trouble concentrating. I was worried that my mom had done something drastic. I was hopeful that maybe she had started getting better. I was anxious to find out which. During the car ride home I ran a stop sign, but there were no cops to pull me over. I was thankful for that.

I walked in my front door and didn't have enough time to kick my shoes off before my mother came to get me. She was ecstatic. She was out of her room. A grin was on my face for three seconds. That's when I was introduced to them. The one sitting down on our couch reminded me of a sheepdog with his long brown hair. The other one was standing, staring me down with piercing green eyes. I gulped, wondering who they were and what they were doing in our living room.

"Girly, these are officers Iommi and Butler. FBI. They've come to help us." My mother said as she ushered me to a seat in the living room.

"Like Black Sabbath?" I asked, but nobody seemed to hear me.

The sheepdog one cleared his throat. "Lucy, is it?" I nodded. "Have you noticed anything odd in the house lately?"

I swiped a glance at my mom, who had been acting the very definition of odd, but then shook my head. Other than her, nothing in the house was amiss. That didn't seem to fit well with Green-Eyes.

"Are you sure? Your mom is certain that somethin's going on."

"I don't know. Sorry. Sir. Sirs." I wasn't sure how polite I was supposed to be with the FBI. I looked at my mom wondering what in the hell she had been telling them.

"Well. Thank you for your time Mrs…"

"Redmond. Miss, Redmond. Are you sure you can't stay?"

"We'll be in touch Miss Redmond, and Lucy, if you hear anything, see anything, please let us know." Sheepdog handed me a card, but for some reason it didn't look like what I had imagined an FBI business card would look like. The two of them sauntered out the front door and I waited a few seconds before glaring at my mother.

"Mom." I stood up and placed my hands on my hips as if I were the mother of the household.

"Yes hunny?" She was absolutely clueless.

"What the hell? What is going on that you called the FBI?"

"Oh, no, I didn't…"

"Didn't? You're saying you haven't been calling the FBI every day and they finally showed up?"

"That's what I'm saying."

"Spill it. Everything. What is going on?"

My mother started to waver.

"Mom."

With a whine, she relented. "They're associates of your father. I've been trying to call him."

That was a shock. My father was involved in this? My mother hardly talked about him. When I was younger, I had asked, but it was a touchy subject. He had never wanted a daughter. He never wanted me. So my mother kicked him out the door and told him to never come back. Why she would call him now was beyond me.

"…My father?" I sat back down, completely invested in this now.

"Yes."

"My father was in the FBI?"

"Well, no.."

"Well, then, what?"

"Don't laugh."

I let out a half-hearted chuckle. "Okay fine. What was he?" I expected her to say that he was arrested and had his charges dropped when he was signed on as an informant or something. I was not expecting what she answered in the least.

"He was a monster hunter."