Alright, so, after years of hoarding fics, I finally decided to start posting again. Supernatural is the name of the game this time. I was thinking about how many kids have been influenced by the supernatural/the Winchesters saving them (the kids from Something Wicked, especially), and this just kinda fell onto paper. Hope you like it~

Obviously the Winchesters do not belong to me, no matter how many pictures of them I have plastered on my walls. Hannah is mine, and I'll split the other characters with Kripke; he gave the basic background but I filled in the majority of their personalities.

Mom died of a brain tumor and I thank whatever god that might be out there for it. It was quick and relatively painless.
I remember sitting in the cold plastic chairs of the waiting room, praying, wishing, bargaining with an unknown deity to fix her. It's how I spent most of my time; the silence from above never disheartened me, just made me try harder to be heard.
One day my whispered stream of pleas was interrupted. A woman addressed me by name. I looked up, expecting a nurse, but she was clad in a professional black suit jacket and skirt. "Are you a social worker?" I inquired.
She didn't answer that, but said without great inflection, "Your prayers have been heard."
All the jade from my past few years forgotten, I latched onto her words. "Can you make my mom better?" ashed her desperately.
"No."
"N-No? But I thought you said-"
"Your mother's time has come. But I will take care of you."
Questions bubbled unrestrained past my tired filter. "Who are you? Does Mom know you? Are you family? Where are you going to take me? How-?"
"Enough."
I fell obediently silent.
"I am presently only here for a short time. Your questions will be answered in due time, and you will be reminded of something taken from you. Go now to your mother. If you require another conversation in the near future, call the name Hannah."
I scrambled for my cell phone to take down her number, but she was gone when I looked up again. I gaped at the empty space, wondering if I'd imagined the whole incident. Either way, I sat with Mom until the babysitter came to take me home.
Things progressed quickly in the days following. Hannah told me I'd been chosen to help people. She said I would be in for unspeakable pain and misery, but that I could potentially save the world on more than one occasion. I got scared and asked if I had a choice in the matter. She said I technically did, but once she restored that secret, I'd be begging for that future.
There wasn't much to think about. Mom was getting worse by the day, and once she was gone I'd be alone in the world at age twelve. Anyway, I'd come to trust Hannah and whatever power she had that let her vanish and reappear at will. I agreed, hoping that my so-called destiny would be better than a life alone.
Mom died. I knew she would, but I still cried. I'd told her so many times that I love her and swore I would truly be looked after when she was gone. She was bewildered at first, but I guess she came to believe me as the tumor sapped her reasoning and vitality. She still looked so beautiful in her pure white casket. She was pale but only sleeping in her clothes like she'd come in from an exhausting yet wonderful night on the town. Her friends all asked me if I would be okay, where I was going, what my plans were. I trusted in Hannah, who'd told me a few cryptic words more than nothing, for the millionth time and assured them I had everything set up for myself.
Looking back, I guess I understand why I went along with Hannah's enigmatic crap. It was because something had been dormant inside me for at least a year, a secret smolder, an iron desire for what she was offering even if I didn't know what that offer was. It also explained why I felt like something was missing at the funeral.
My one regret is that Mom never remembered.
After the funeral, I knew an imaginary hourglass had run out. The babysitter enjoyed evening programming while I packed everything I could fit into two duffel bags that were conveniently lying open on my bed when I got home. Clothes filled the majority of the space. Into what was left I crammed some comic books, my iTouch, a picture of Mom, a small soccer trophy, the smooth silver lighter that had one day appeared int he junk drawer, and a silver cross of Mom's on a manlier chain.
Hannah appeared just as I zipped the last bag. "I'm ready to go," I said heavily.
"Good. You should not expect to ever return to this place."
I nodded stoically.
"There is something you must know about your life before we go."
"Shoot."
"Every nightmare you've ever had, every horror movie you've ever seen, every myth and legend you've ever heard-it's all real. Those things exist in the world alongside humans, and humans are often their prey. It will be you job to fight these creatures and save as many people as you can, but you will not be alone."
The black shadow of massive wings appeared behind Hannah. I yelped and staggered back.
"I am an angel. I will always be watching over you, though I may not always come when you call or save you when you are in danger."
She stretched a hand towards me and it all went black.
That first month was a total nightmare, what with waking up in a nineteen-year-old body and fumbling blindly through my first hunt. Hannah only came back and explained a few things when I climbed a building and threatened to jump. She gave me a few pointers and set me loose. I briefly considred running away, but where could I run from destiny?
So I hunted, and I grew in the life I came to understand the part about misery and pain. My inexperience earned me many more knocks than a seasoned veteran would have sustained, and I almost died the first time I met a demon. That job didn't work out so well. The demon got away and killed its host before I could recover. I knew then that I need help, but Hannah was ignoring me and I couldn't exactly put an ad out for an apprentice.

My phone rings. I wedge my drink between the duffel bag and the seat and wipe the residue of fry salt on my pants before answering.
"Dude, are you dead?"
Michael. Again. "No, *dude*, I told you I wiping up a spirit. I'll be there in, like, thirty minutes."
"Okay, okay, just checking. You're the last one out and we were getting antsy. Hey, swing by a shop and pick some drinks, my treat."
"Yeah. And Michael? Quit callin'."
"Then hurry up."
I roll my eyes and stuff the phone back in my pocket. Michael *would* be the one to call. He's such a mother hen.

I was desperately reevaluating my life during one particularly strenuous hunt. It was a shadow creature of some sort that was snatching treats. By some miracle I managed to track it to its sewer lair. Amid fresh skeletons I discovered a boy with shaggy hair who was about my age. That fact alone was surprising; I was blown away when he told me in all seriousness to run because there was a monster somewhere around. I didn't have time to respond before a bullet whizzed past my head. It was an older boy who clearly had the wrong idea. I began to explain myself, which got him to cease fire, but then the shadow came. We fought it off together and made it out in one piece.
Michael was the one who shot at me, and it was Asher who I tried to save. They were brothers and-the revelation astounded me-hunters. We were ecstatic to find each other and spent a few days getting to know each other. It eventually slipped out that they should also be much younger. Hannah, predictably, refused to appear for an interview. We hunted together for a bit before going our separate ways and vowed to keep in touch.
Michael and Asher weren't the only ones. I met Angela in Washington. She wasn't too fond of me for a while, but she changed her tune after we got trapped in an out-of-order restaurant freezer together. I also picked up Lucas after swooping in just in time to break a will o' wisp's spell on him. We had a merry time picking our way out of the gluey Louisiana swamp mud. Michael called to meet up; I invited Angela and Lucas and Michael brought along a girl named Lanie.
Meeting there in that motel room, we knew it was meant to be.

I made my presence known via a few kicks for knocks; my arms were full of six packs. The door opened and I hurried in out of the rain. Greetings rose from everywhere. I smiled at random and deposited my load on the yellowed counter.
A flash of ginger hair preceded a crushing hug. I patted Lucas's back as well as I could. "Dude, we thought you drowned!" he exclaimed. The sky backed him up with a clap of thunder.
"Nope, just getting drinks. Speaking of which..." I held out my hand. Michael high-fived me reparations with a grin. Asher and I bro-hugged, and I kissed the girls on the cheeks. "Alright, let the games begin!"

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