Author's Note/Disclaimer: Now, I know what we all are thinking - I can barely keep up with the two stories I already have going, why on Earth would I be starting a third one? Well, sadly, I have about 20 story ideas in reserve, and I'm just going to start putting out chapters when I get them written and have the ideas because otherwise it's never going to get down. Here's the start of that! Not going to lie, I've been a bit remiss about keep up with this season of Supernatural (I'm not a huge fan of the God's sister thing, honestly I think at this point they really need to consider ending the show, please don't kill me!) so there shouldn't be any spoilers (plus I'm going to be starting way back in season 1) and if you have any comments about what I'm doing, please oh please let me know! I love comments and if you want to start a conversation in the PMs I'm happy to do that too! Also, I do not own Supernatural. Sadly. Jensen and Jared would be all mine, age difference be damned (but I do love them and their wives dammit). Anyways, onto the story!

Chapter 1:

Ever since his first exorcism, Jim Murphy knew that he would serve the Lord best by helping fight the monsters that roamed the Earth. He performed ceremonies, blessed weapons, protected homes. As a pastor, he never killed if he could help it, but he knew he was doing good. Most people didn't know what was out there in the dark - monsters that had faded into myth and legend, but were still there. Jim learned their names and weaknesses and shared his expertise with these who devoted their lives to hunting down these creatures.

One night in July, right after he had finished hearing Reconciliation, Jim got a call. One of his contacts in the world of hunting, John Winchester, was in a nearby town chasing what seemed to be a werewolf, and needed more silver bullets.

Jim drove over to meet John, and when he got into town, he realized John had brought his two young sons along but no back up. Werewolves were notoriously tricky, so Jim decided to stay and help. John protested - he only ever worked alone - but both his sons were looking up at Jim pleadingly, and he found himself insisting. Dean, the older son, was only 10 and he looked like he was older than that, just stuck in a child's body. Sam, the younger son, clearly had no idea what his father was really doing on these trips, but he also so obviously just wanted his father to be around.

Anything that would make the trip shorter for these kids, Jim wanted to do.

Two days later, Jim found himself standing in the last victim's house while John burned the werewolf corpse and its victim in the backyard. Cecilia Morstan had lived on the very edge of town, probably making her an easier target, but it sure did help with the clean-up.

Jim took the now peaceful time to look around the home and pray for Cecilia's soul. There was a cross above her door and a several plaques throughout the home with bible quotes about strength and faith - clearly Ms. Morstan had been a religious woman. John had scoffed at the cross; Jim knew better than to take it personally. Hunters fell into one of tow categories - either they believed their hunting was a divine calling and they were doing God's work, or they denied the existence of God altogether because of what they saw every day when they hunted. John was clearly in the second group, and based on what Jim had gathered about what happened to his wife, he couldn't exactly blame him for his anger.

Jim paused in the living room. He had noticed that the house was awfully big for a woman who lived alone, but he hadn't had time to look around until now. His eyes skimmed the photographs on the mantle above the fireplace before zeroing in on the last one. His heart sank as he lifted it up and took a closer look.

He walked back outside, trying not to inhale deeply. While burning a corpse was the safest bet, especially after a case like this with a violent death, the smell was something you never got used wasn't even watching the fire anymore, just cleaning his silver knives and reloading his guns. He didn't even glance up when Jim walked up to him. "The boys and I should probably head out first thing tomorrow." He said, not beating around a bush. "Someone will probably be by to check on Morstan and we shouldn't be here when they do."

Jim sighed. "We may not be done yet."

John's dark eyes flashed up at him. "What do you mean?"

Jim held up the photograph and John cursed.

Cecilia Morstan was in the picture, of course, but her arms were wrapped around someone - a blonde-haired, blue-eyed little girl with her nose and forehead, smiling just as widely as Morstan.

"Goddammit." John said heavily. "She had a kid."

"What do you think the odds are she's still alive?" Jim asked.

John stood up and threw another log on the fire, stoking it back up. "This werewolf was damn hungry." He said gruffly. "I'd say we're looking for another body."

Both men walked back into the house, splitting back through the rooms to look for the little body they might have missed. Jim's heart was heavy - the girl probably wasn't any older than John's youngest, just six years old. Best case scenario she had just lost her mother; worst case there was another body to burn.

Hoping against hope that he was working with the best case scenario, Jim began looking for places a little girl might hide from a monster - under the bed, in a chest of blankets, at the back of the closet - until he noticed the laundry room door was slightly ajar. Carefully he eased the door all the way open and stepped into the room. There was a tiny creak and Jim looked towards the washing machine, with was the type that opened to the front rather than upwards.

The perfect hiding place for a scared little girl.

Carefully Jim knelt down and eased the door open.

The little girl was huddled at the very back of the machine, clutching a blanket, eyes puffy and red. She'd obviously been crying, and probably pressing her blanket to her mouth to muffle the sound. As soon as the door had opened, she had pressed herself as far back against the machine as she could.

Jim smiled softly at her, relieved to find her alive. "Hi there, sweetheart." The big blue eyes followed him, and he noticed them zeroing in on his collar. If her mother was religious, she might have an idea that members of the clergy were safe, making him safe. "I'm Pastor Jim." He said, keeping his voice level. "What's your name?"

The little girl bit her lip and brought the blanket back up towards her mouth. "Faith."

"That's a pretty name." Jim said soothingly. "Are you okay in there, Faith?"

She nodded slowly. "Is the monster gone?" She asked fearfully.

Jim nodded. "He's gone." He promised. "My friend John and I took care of it. The monster won't hurt anyone again."

Faith's lip trembled and her eyes filled with tears. "It hurt my Mommy though."

Jim hadn't thought about Faith knowing what had happened to her mother. "Yes, it did." He admitted. "I'm sorry that your Mommy got hurt." He looked back over his shoulder at the now quiet house.

Normally people who witnessed the supernatural would stay quiet about it, because who would believe them? But Faith was too young to really understand the weight of what she'd learned and how important it was to keep it hidden. If she did say something, no one would believe her, but she would be put into a foster home and if she kept talking about it, they'd think she was sick or insane and send her somewhere worse.

Either way, her life was over. Unless Jim found a way to save it.

He backed away from the machine slightly before holding out his arms. "Would you like to come out now?" He offered. Faith bit her lip before hesitantly climbing out of the machine and into Jim's arms, burying her head in his shoulder. Jim stroked her hair soothingly as he stood up and carried her back down the stairs.

John was standing in the living room, staring at another picture of Faith and her mother, when Jim brought the girl in. At the sight of the ex-Marine, Faith squeaked and tried to scramble down from Jim's arms.

"It's alright Faith." Jim said reassuringly. "This is my friend John. He helped me defeat the monster, you don't have to be scared of him."

Faith peaked back at John, who gave her a small wave and a smile. It was surprisingly gentle, and Jim couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever smiled at his own sons that way.

"You're safe, sweetheart." John promised before glancing at Jim. "Can we talk for a minute?" He jerked his head towards the kitchen.

Jim set Faith down on the couch, wrapping her in a blanket and promising they'd be right back. Faith's eyes followed them as they walked away, determined not to lose sight of safety embodied.

John ran a hand over his face and gave a frustrated sigh. "Well, what do we do now?"

Jim understood his concerns. Hunters did their best to avoid tangling with law enforcement, and when the people they saved were old enough to understand, it was easy. Faith, however, was just a child. In a small town like this, everyone would have known Cecilia Morstan had a child. They would look for her body. If there was no body, Faith would be put on milk cartons and in newspapers, and she would never be able to use her name again.

As Jim saw it, there was only one way to go. "I'll call the police in the morning." He said. "I'll say I came over to meet with Cecilia and found the fire and blood, and Faith hiding."

John nodded slowly. He'd already wiped down every surface he'd touched, so he couldn't be tied to the fire. The case would eventually go cold, since the killer was also dead, and Cecilia Morstan would fade into history. "What about the girl?"

Jim glanced into the living room at Faith curled up on the couch, eyes darting around the room fearfully. She'd probably grown up in this room; learned to walk, danced with her mother, read stories, colored. This had been her home and now it was just a place of fear.

"I'll take her." Jim said, causing John to throw him a surprised look. "I'll take her back to Minnesota and raise her there, maybe not to hunt, but to understand the life."

John scoffed a little. "I dunno Jim, dragging a kid into this life? My own boys wouldn't be in it if I had another option."

"She's already in the life." Jim pointed out. "We can't put her into a normal home now, not with what she's seen and knows. And I am legally allowed to foster or adopt a child, as long as I can convince the authorities that it's what Cecilia would have wanted as a religious woman."

John raised his hands, though Jim couldn't tell if it was in frustration or surrender. Or both.

"Fine, fine." John muttered. "Bag her up, we'll take her back to the motel for the night."

Jim went back into the living room, causing Faith to look up quickly.

"Faith, John and I are going to take you to our motel for the night." Jim said gently. "We want you to feel safe."

Faith blinked. "Is the monster coming back?"

Jim shook his head. "No Faith, the monster is never coming back."

Faith's lip quivered again, and tears started to gather in her eyes. "Neither is Mommy, is she?"

Jim knelt down in front of Faith, taking a deep breath. "I'm afraid not." He said softly. "Your Mommy is with God now. You know about God and Heaven, right?"

Faith nodded. "Mommy said that Heaven is where we go when we're good and help people. She said God gave me to her because she was very good and trusted Him to hear her prayers."

Jim nodded, wondering in the back of his head what this meant. There was no evidence of a father in Faith's life, but she looked too much like Morstan to be adopted. Maybe a sperm donor?

"Well," Jim continued, "Your Mommy is in a nice, safe place now, and she can't take care of you." He paused and looked at John before meeting Faith's eyes again. "Faith the monster you saw tonight…most grown-ups don't believe they exist. So you may hear them say things happened to your Mommy that you know aren't true, but you need to just keep it to yourself."

Faith tilted her head, looking confused. "I have to…lie?"

Jim scrunched his nose. "Not lie, exactly, but keep a secret. It will make everyone safer."

Faith nodded sadly. "Okay."

"Hey." Jim said gently, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm going to take care of you now. I promise no monster is going to get you, okay?"

Faith peeked up at him, the look in her eyes both hopeful and hesitant. "You…you promise?"

"Of course," Jim said, picking Faith back up again and carrying her out to the car where John was waiting. "You'll be safe, I promise."

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Even though it was very late when Jim and John arrived back at the motel, Dean and Sam were still awake, sitting on their bed expectantly.

"Who's she?" Sam asked curiously as Jim walked in, carrying a dozing Faith with her head on his shoulder. Faith leaned up sleepily to rub her eyes before looking at the Winchester boys.

"This is Faith," Jim said, setting the little girl down on the bed so that she and the boys staring at each other. "Faith, this is Dean and Sam. They're John's sons. Sam is your age, I think." He glanced at Dean. "Faith has been though a hard time tonight, boys. She just lost her mom."

At that, the Winchesters both looked at Faith a little differently. Now she wasn't just a random girl plopped on their bed in the middle of the night - she was a child who'd lost her mother, just like them. Dean, who understood what his father did, looked at Faith with dark eyes, knowing exactly what she'd seen and now lost. Sam, who knew none of this, scooted towards Faith on the bed and touched her gently on the knee. "We lost our Mommy too." He said softly. Faith bit her lip, but she didn't pull away, and so Sam moved a little closer to put his little arms around her. Immediately she sagged against him, exhausted and terrified and sad all at once, but Sam just took it and held her. Dean also scooted over sot hat both six-year-olds were laying on him, and that was how they all fell asleep.

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Convincing the police and child services to let him take Faith was easier than Jim had expected, and at any other time, this would have concerned him.

The town was small enough that Cecilia Morstan's death was downright unnatural, and it was agreed that raising Faith around all these people who would whisper about what happened every time she walked by would only prolong the pain for her. A pastor taking her in and raising her away from the memories of the murder would be the best thing for her. Surprisingly, John followed Jim back to Blue Mountain with the boys. Once they arrived, John explained he had found another case and he wanted to keep the boys away from it.

Jim could see the pain in John's eyes, and wondered if he was just running away from the memories of his wife. Regardless, he agreed to watch the boys fora week or two, figuring it would be good for Faith to have other kids around and that it would be good for Sam and Dean to live normally for awhile.

Dean sulked for the first couple of days about being left behind by his father, but Sam was having the time of his life, not cooped up in a motel room and able to run around outside. He was also excited to have someone his own age to play with, even if she was a girl. Jim would always credit Sam with drawing Faith out of her shell in those first few weeks, which turned into a month and a half - he knew when to be quiet and to let her mourn, but then he would pull her outside to kick a soccer ball around the church yard. After a few days, Dean joined them.

In that month and a half Faith let loose a little smile again. She allowed Jim to hug her. When John finished his hunt and picked up the boys, Faith hugged them tightly, but stood tall when they pulled away in their car.

As she got older, Faith began to learn about the world that had taken her family away from her. When she was fifteen, she went on her first hunt with Jim (and, coincidentally, the Winchesters).

When she was 22, the headaches began.