Harley Mae Davis and her baby brother, Caden Ryan, spent their entire lives saving people, hunting things, fighting to keep the nightmares at by. They've been fighting for so long, neither can even remember the last time they had a normal moment, continuing their mother's work, her legacy, her lifelong goal and ultimately, the family business that would one day lead to her bitter demise. With the 1977 Mercury Comet, packed with guns, knives, machetes, and more, and a journal full of lure, signs, symbols, warnings and general information of years of hunting. They made it this far – without dying yet.

Then

I244 in Tulsa, Oklahoma changed their lives however. When a mysterious illness was sprung upon them, the Winchester brother saved them from rotting away under the hot summer's sun.

May 27th, 1996

John saved my children today. I don't know how he found them, or how he knew they needed his help, but he found them and saved them. Ryan's dead. The thing got him. We don't even know what it is. It almost hurt my little Cadey. I would have killed the thing myself had I been there. What I don't understand, is how Harley didn't try and stop it. She had one job. One freaking job. Watch your brother. And she nearly got the kid killed. Her excuse? 'I had to let the dog out, mommy,'

Anyway, today I realized how lucky I am to have a friend like John. His boys will become family to the kids, I have no doubt in my mind. His oldest, the quiet, obedient one, he was there to comfort Hars, I can't begin to appreciate that enough. Those kids are going to need them one day. I just hope they follow in their father's footsteps and come to their aid in their time of need.

Heaven help me, I will find your killer, Ryan, I swear on everything, I will.

~ ND

The year of the entry was scratched out, probably because my mother hated remembering the day dad died. I was only about 7. Caden barely 3.

I wracked my brain, trying to remember who had been there. I remember being scared to death, hating myself for letting Caden out of my sight, even for those mere minutes. It took me a moment, but when my eyes met his, I remembered.

"Dean! Get the kids outside, now!" a man shouted, motioning to his son. The boy grabbed me by my arms and pulled me outside, my baby brother twisting, screaming bloody murder in his arms. Caden, always ready to bite a stranger who ever dared grab him, latched onto Dean's arm with savage eyes.

"Oh my god," I whispered. I looked up once more, tears in my eyes. "You were there."

"Remember the first time we ended up on a hunt together?" Dean asked, looking at me with a serious expression now.

"Yeah, it was in St. Louis, the shape shifter, right?" I said, as that was the first clear memory I had of being on a case with him and Sam. We had been after a shape shifter that was terrorizing Sam's old classmates. Caden and I were supposed to cover another case, but we were drawn to that one in particular. Not that it worked out the way we planned.

"No. It was even before that. You were probably what, 16? It was when Sam was in college. You left Caden with some of his friends for the night, and we ended up chasing after that demon, remember?" he asked. I shook my head, having no real memory of that night. Probably because it was one that I had no urge to remember. Until now, that is.

"You held your own better than I expected that night. Even when you listened to the demon tell you how much your father hated hell and how much pain he was in down there, you didn't even flinch. Even when it threw me straight across the room with just a flick of it's wrist, pinned you down where you laid. Harley, you were so brave, so completely emotionless...it was almost scary. Especially for a kid your age. And when you stabbed the thing in the chest, the look in your eyes...I never saw someone kill with that much pleasure," he said. I think that was the most I'd ever heard Dean say at once before.

I blinked, taking in everything he said. I tried to remember that night, but I just couldn't. I don't really remember any night that I didn't spend hovering over Caden, waking for him to fall into a deep enough sleep to feel safe enough to get an hour or two for myself, before his nightmares would wake us both up in a cold sweat. Caden's nightmares scared me. He couldn't really remember them when he woke up, but he's scream so loud, a bone chilling scream. They always left us both exhausted and too afraid to sleep. Thinking of that, made me long to be back at my brother's side, knowing exactly where he was, knowing that should he wake in fear, I'd be right there to comfort him as I had been for the last 18 years.

"You don't remember that night, do you?" Dean asked, breaking me from my thoughts.

"Not in particular, no," I said honestly.

"Cade's missing," I said.

"This box...It's ancient. It holds great power to those who successfully open it. I was under the impression it was destroyed years ago," he murmured.

But the words couldn't come fast enough. My concentration was broken when I heard the bloodcurdling cry of pain ahead of me. I smelled the blood long before I saw it. I saw his body twist from pain, his eyes widen, then stair blankly. A look that would haunt me the rest of my life. I heard the chair fall over, saw his hair flip as he head fell to the side, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

And I howled. Like a wounded animal, I howled.

"Ante noctem est super,

Ante facinus patratur,

Exaudi vocem meam pro misericordia,

Enim inpotens filium.

Patefacio propositum animi

Fractaque non solus,

Cum hoc arca archa,

Tibi dabo sperare,

Sacrificium ut tam carus.

Aperi!

Aperi!

Expelle eos ad inferni!

Aperi!

Aperi!

Expelle eos ad inferni!" The last phrase came out with so much force, so much pure hatred, my words ringing clear, my voice booming over the sounds of the scuffle to my left.

Dean laid motionlessly in a pool of his own blood, a gaping hole in his stomach. His face was ashen, his lips turning blue.

Caden was dead.

And let me tell you something. When you get thrown around by a magical box, walk 8 miles to and from a car in the middle of the night, donate half your blood in the most idiotic of ways, drag three bodies up the stairs, then walk another four miles to retrieve the car, then, drive ten hours, you're ready to fall asleep and never wake up by the time it's over. Shoot, I'd been awake for four days at a time before, but never under such circumstances. It didn't help that the entire time, I was fighting back tears.

Half way to Bobby's I pulled over to the side of the road, nearly asleep at the wheel again, only this time, Sadie was barking every few seconds to keep me from crashing the Impala. Yeah. Smart dog. I nudged Sam and told him to drive the rest of the way. We traded spots, and with one hand on the dog's collar, the other supporting my arm, I fell asleep. It didn't even take a whole second. Sleep just came.

Maybe it was exhaustion, or maybe it was my mind's way of letting me cope. In less than 24 hours, I watched my mother evaporate into thin air or be blown to bits, I didn't know which, my baby brother die, and one of the closest people to me, nearly followed the same pattern.

I think there might have been a reason the Winchester boys were with me that night. Maybe it was Sam's physic mumbo-jumbo that brought on the Latin that just so happened to open the box, or maybe it was luck. Since I didn't believe it luck, I let it all fall onto fate. Not that I believed in that either.

Whatever the reason, I was grateful.

Once again, the Winchesters pulled through for my seriously screwed up family.

Dean was convinced she was going to off herself. That losing her brother would send her over the edge. He tried every number he had for her, every connection he had, everything, just to bring her back. Sam tried to tell him that maybe she just needed time alone for a while. Dean wouldn't take that. He kept calling. He kept looking for her. Not even Cas could find her. She had hidden herself, and would remain that way until she chose to be found.

Weeks passed. Caden was buried in a patch of land a few miles from Bobby's house, his resting place marked by a beautiful maple tree. Harley didn't know that though. All she knew was that her brother's body was decomposing somewhere.

She hide herself in a small underground basement of what was once a house, out in the middle of the woods. In which state, she couldn't remember. She lived off the land, hunting with Sadie, who had since become her only friend. There, she remained for the first two weeks after Caden was killed.

And there she remained, until the hunt finally forced her to come back into society.

Now

"Sadie, c'mon girl," she called as she walked up the rotting staircase, her pace slow, forced. Her hands ran along the walls, chips of paint covering her hands as she led the way. Sadie followed close behind, her nose always pressed against Harley's leg.

Once outside, Harley made her way over to where the Comet was hidden, the black car nearly invisible under the leaves, grass and twigs. Unlocking the front door, she let the dog in and followed in after her, letting her hands fall on the knife that sat in the passenger seat, a constant reminder of who she was. The handle of the knife had three initials carved deeply into the wood, CRD, Caden's knife. She let her fingers linger on the handle for a moment, before turning the key in the ignition, listening as the car purred to life.

"I should have had Dean tune 'er up before running off," she said to Sadie. The dog whined in response, her tail wagging against the vinyl. Laughing at the fond memories she had of the pair, she drove off, listening as the car's motor rattled loudly, a sound she had grown to hate more and more each day.

She'd only been gone two weeks, but in that time, she realized how much she missed the fight, missed the guys, Dean in particular. Above all else, she missed Caden. For her, it was unrealistic to sleep a full night without waking up to wake him from a nightmare. For her, it was unnatural to only be looking out for herself and the dog at her side. For her, having no one to talk to, other than Sadie, was something she'd never encountered before. And it made her feel more and more alone in the world.

As she drove, she noticed that her phone was buzzing. Pulling over, as to be able to actually see who it was and not crash into a tree, she looked at the missed call log.

47 missed calls. 15 from Dean. 10 from Dean's other phone. 2 from Sam, the rest from various hunters and friends of Bobby's, Dean's, and/or Sam's. Dean had basically put out a hunter's version of an Amber alert. Every hunter they knew was looking for her, or at the very least, keeping an eye out for the young hunter who seemed to drop off the face of the planet.

"He's going to drive himself insane looking for me," she said to Sadie, shaking her head. "I wish he'd take the damn hint already."

Sadie barked in response, this time, clawing at the window.

Harley drove all the way to a local bar, her hands shaking as she locked the car, slipping the orange harness over Sadie's head. The black writing read Service Dog across the back. Clipping a new, bright pink leash to the harness, she walked inside. When the bartender asked about the dog, she simply explained that the dog was in training, and in order to complete said training, she was to accompany Harley wherever she went.

She'd been using that cover for the last two weeks, and so far, it'd never failed. She sat down at the same table she had for the two weeks she had been in the town, her hands reaching for her laptop bag. The first thing she did when she got to town, was buy a new laptop since she refused to go to a library. Not when Dean was having everyone and their mother looking out for her. She paid in cash for everything, leaving no way of tracking her movements.

"Hey, kitten, whatcha havin'," the bartender called from behind the bar.

"The regular," she replied. She always ordered a double bacon cheese burger with extra bacon and a Dr. Jager, which was half Jagermeister, half Dr. Pepper.

"Comin' right up," he said as he turned to the wall of various liquors.

"Sadie, sit," Harley said halfheartedly to the dog at her side. Sadie whined and tried to move, but Harley's grip on the leash was too taunt to allow her anymore leash than that that was needed to sit or lay down. For some reason, Sadie was always antsy in the bar.

She ate in silence as she scrolled through unread emails. She knew Sam and Dean both had her email, but neither had gone as far as to contact her via the internet, which she was grateful for. It was one less problem she had to deal with. She did, however, had several emails from a "Johnathan O'Ryan" who she knew to be an ex-hunter off in New York City last she knew. She moved them to the folder marked "Read Later" and made a mental note to actually read them at some point.

"Davis," someone said as strong hands fell on her shoulders. She turned quickly, nearly knocking her laptop off the table in the process.

"Who are you?" she hissed. The man looked strangely familiar, but she couldn't put a name to the face. Then again, she never was good with names.

"You should know," the man said as he sat down next to her, his hand still on her shoulder. "You saw me everyday for the last two weeks."

"I'm sorry, I don't remember your name," she said tiredly. Even though it was only about 6 in the evening, Harley was exhausted. Then again, she was going on a week with little to no sleep. It was only natural.

"I'm Johnathan, haven't you checked your emails?" he said coolly, nodding at the laptop in front of them.

"Actually, I haven't. But either way, hi," she said. She didn't use her real name as her email name, on her email, she was under Davis Ryan, a name her brother used to use when they booked into crappy hotels. If she looked hard enough, she could probably find the old credit card he used too, but that would involve returning to Bobby's, which she had no intention of doing.

"Well if you had, you'd have known that Dean's still up my ass about finding you. You know that guy has all the hunters I know and then some looking for you?" he said as he waved to the waitress, who came over with a smile. "Two beers," he said as he nodded to her. She hurried over to the counter to get the drinks. "On me," he said as Harley looked at him skeptically.

"I'm aware," she said as she acknowledged his earlier statement. "Dean's a good man," she added, her heart breaking as she thought about him.

"So why ya running from him?" he asked, taking a sip of his beer when the waitress sat it down in front of him.

"Because...I'm dealing with a lot of stuff," she said as her hands ran through Sadie's fur. The dog growled softly, her eyes locked on Johnathan.

"Well you should call him. He's worried," he suggested. "That ain't why I've been watching you tho. I happen to know you never run away from a hunt, right?"

"Under normal circumstances no, but like I said, I'm dealing with a lot right now," she said warily.

"Well this case seems right up your alley," he said. "You bein' an animal lover 'n all," his accent coming clear now. I noticed a hint of the South in his mannerism, and it was actually refreshing.

"I'm a hunter, not animal control," she sighed.

"The case is a case, darling. Something with claws and teeth, and a knack for leaving nothing behind," he said, almost eagerly.

"Werewolf?" she suggested, taking a sip of her beer. She wasn't a huge beer drinker, but wouldn't pass up a free drink.

"The hearts are always intact," he said with a shake of his head.

"I don't know then, Shifter? Skin-walker?" she was tired, and her mind wasn't really catching up with the facts laid out in front of her.

"Here's the big kicker, whatever it is, it hunts like a wildcat. Claws, really, really sharp claws," he said.

"Where's this taking place?" she asked, too tired to really want the case, but her mother's most common orders stuck in her head. Never let your personal shit keep you from doing you job. When something comes up, you go and check it out.

"North Dakota," he said. " 'An the only reason I ain't tell them Winchesters is 'cause it's up your alley more 'en theirs. You're good at the freaky and furry," he laughed.

That was true. She was naturally good at researching, hunting, and ultimately killing, anything with fur. Werewolves, Skin-walkers, anything with fur. Then again, that all fell back on a Werewolf being my first kill. Even if she normally overlooked it. While Sam and Dean were practically gods of the hunter world, they just weren't as good as she was at killing the 'freaky and furry' as Johnathan had called them.

"You want me to go check it out, don't you," she asked, her heart sinking.

"Bingo," he said with a smirk. "You've been under a rock for the last two weeks, go kill something. Get back to the norm. And for cripes sake, call Dean." With that, he stood and slammed a folder down on the table, followed by two ten dollar bills. She looked at him funny, but didn't question it.

After he was gone, she paid for her drink and meal, and grabbed the folder, too tired to be bothered with anything else. Sadie followed her outside eagerly, her tail wagging the moment they were outside. She let the dog into the car before sliding in after her.

She ended up parking the car on the side of the road a mile from where she had been staying. Her entire body was shaking from effort of staying awake. It took all she had just to roll down the window and lock the doors, before she was out like a light.

A/n;; Full Summary - After Caden died, Harley knew she was going to spiral out of control, that was why she left. She had to. She hung up her guns and left the business, despite the longing for normality. Hidden in a basement, in a town she did not know, where no one knew her name (or so she thought) she found herself struggling with two options. Follow the leads and find the answers, or let someone else clean up the mess, one of which, she specialized in. When the Winchesters save her yet again, she finds herself facing a new challenge, as her feelings for Dean become clear, feelings she'd never had to face before. Follow Harley as she deals with loss, heartbreak and despair in Eye of the Tiger. Rated M for later chapters.

Disclaimer - I do not, nor will I ever, own any piece, character, or otherwise of Supernatural. All characters, plots, ect belong to the producers and creators.

Book 2 in the Harley Mae Chronicles.