Thicker Than Water

Summary:

Neither of us really understood the importance of the bond we share. Neither of us knew what to do with it. We kept it secret, a knowledge that only the both of us knew of, and no one, not even our father, could take it away from us. Eventually, we stopped wondering about the bond we share and just accepted it for what it was. Most of the time, it helped keep both of us free of worry, the physical distance between us too great. Other times, times like now, it appeared to be more troublesome than it is worth.

My name is Natasha Winchester and what started off as a mission to rescue my brother from Hell turns into a mission to stop the Apocalypse.

Who knew I'd be in for one crazy ass ride? Perhaps, I should have just stayed away? Well, either way, I can't change it now, and at times, I don't really see a need to.

Prologue
The Bond of Twins

I was four when the Yellow-Eyed Demon came into our home, setting the two-story house ablaze with our mother left inside. I was four when my world crumbled at our feet and we watched the shift in our father slowly grow from righteous anger to furious vengeance. I was four when the life I knew was laid to waste and we were led on a path of revenge on the Yellow-Eyed Demon that changed our lives forever.

By the age of six, my brother and I knew more about occult lore than we did mathmatics or science. We could strip guns down to the guts and put it back together without hesitation or mistake. Instead of going to birthday parties or playing in the park, we watched over our little brother and studied every text we could find. Dean appreciated guns a lot more than I did, but he always seemed amused by my affinity for bladed weapons. As we grew together, so did the bond we shared.

It had been strange at first. A normal day in our lives. Our little brother, Sammy, had been four at the time, Dean and I eight years old. Our father was off doing another Hunt, a secret both Dean and I kept from our younger brother, hoping to protect him from the dark world we were dragged into. I had been getting food from a nearby convience store, giving the man behind the counter a bright smile as I announce I was finally able to spend my 'allowance'. Returning to the hotel, I didn't even look up as I tossed a box of M&M's and a pack of Twizzlers at Dean. He hadn't asked me for them, but said he had been dying for some sugar.

There were more incidences of course. Over time, it grew more and more and we both agreed that it was for the best to keep it between us. What would our father think, learning that his two eldest could hear each other's thoughts? We would have been placed in a mental ward, or worse.

All of that changed after I turned twelve.

I had noticed it before then, of course. I rarely received the praise Dean did, even though I was just a good as him. I was never doted upon like little Sammy was. In fact, it was like I wasn't even there, that I was just a burden. An extra mouth to feed. I don't like to think he did it on purpose.

But he did.

"Natasha," I glance up at the stern features upon my father's face, once again feeling insignificant as his gaze never meets my own, "You are going to be stay here."

I blink, confused. Looking back at the couple, a younger girl hiding behind her mother's leg, I tilt my head before looking back at my father, "Why?"

"Because. They are going to keep you safe and you will be able to live a normal life here."

"But Dad-"

"This isn't up for negotiation, Natasha."

I flinch at the stern tone, my gaze dropping to the floor, "Yes, Sir."

Watching the shell of the man that had once been my father climb into the car, I close my eyes, pushing down the tears. Why me? Why am I left behind? Did I do something wrong? Why can't he just look at me, for once?

'Nat! I'm sorry!'

'It's not your fault.'

'I tried to make him go back. I told him it isn't right, that he always said family sticks together, but...Nat, he just won't listen. He...He said that you-'

'I look like Mom.'

'How?'

'Remember, you got the brawn, I got the brains out of the package.'

'Ha Ha. Look, I promise, Nat. I swear, when I get the chance, I will find you.'

'I know. Just...stay safe. Sammy too. I love you guys.'

'We love you too.'

"Natasha?" I pull away from my inner thoughts, sniffling as I rub the back of my hand across my eyes, "Why don't you come inside, sweetheart? We'll get ya' somethin' to eat. You're nothin' but flesh and bone, child."

"Thank you, Mrs. Harvelle."

"Just call me Ellen, sweetheart."

Following the woman inside, I glance back over my shoulder, wishing more than anything that I was with my brothers.

It was the worst day of my life. Granted, I was only twelve, but it was. The Harvelle's were a nice family. They tried to hide it at first, that the couple were very familiar with the occult. Ellen's husband was a Hunter in fact. I went to school, studied hard, and I gained enough credits to graduate at the age of sixteen. Ellen had shown pride in my accomplishment and it was then that I knew family wasn't just what a person is born into, but something you make. I spent the next two years bussing tables and waitressing for Ellen (all off the books) at the Roadhouse and saving up money.

I tried to live a normal life. I truly did. I guess, as they say, you can take the Winchester out of the Hunt, but you can't take the Hunt out of the Winchester.

Or is it the other way around? Either way.

I started noticing things. Doing small Hunts here and there. A haunting. A rogue vampire. A witch (and boy do I hate witches). It reminded me why I was with the Harvelle's in the first place. It reminded me that I was never truly alone.

Especially when Dean found out.

'What do you mean you're Hunting? By yourself?'

'No. With my fairy Godmother. Yes, by myself.'

'Don't get snarky with me, brat. Are you insane? You're gonna get yourself killed.'

'Relax, Dean. You act like I don't know what I'm doing. I promise, I'm not doing anything too dangerous. A few haunts around town. A rogue vampire here and there.'

'Vampire? Not dangerous my ass! Nat, Dad wanted to keep you out of this life.'

'No. He didn't want a constant reminder of his wife running around. Don't make excuses for him, Dean. He made his choice and he abadoned me.'

'He was trying to protect you!'

'Yeah? How is he protecting me when he isn't around to do it? You know, fathers are supposed to scare off potential boyfriends, or chase off bullies. Granted, I can handle myself, I've been doing it for awhile now.'

'Nat, you aren't being fair. Dad only wants what is best for you.'

'You know, Dean. You can sing his praises all you want, but one day, he's gonna up and vanish on you and then you'll understand what I went through when I WAS TWELVE!'

'You're being unreasonable.'

'And you're being a dick. Leave me alone.'

'Hey! Don't block me o-'

We never spoke of Dad again. I continued to Hunt in my spare time and I worked at the Roadhouse until I was twenty-two, saving up as much money as possible. I managed to make friends with two girls my age. Maria Sanchez was a beautiful, dark-haired, blue-eyed girl that had been introverted and quite in the beginning. Kaylin Montgomery was a red-haired, hazel-eyed woman with a personality as fiery, fierce and tempermental as her appearance, but a tech guru and a genius. It was in them that I found myself extending the idea of family, and through them, I learned that not everyone in life abandons people when the going gets tough.

I was twenty-two when Maria was attacked by a possessed boyfriend and everything changed from that point. It was only envitable. It isn't in the Winchester genes for one of us to settle roots down somewhere.

"Now, make sure you call once a week. Let us know how you are doing."

Grinning, I nod my head, "Of course, Mama Bear. Relax, will you. The girls and I just...need to get away from everything around here. Ever since Maria's incident, Kay's been climbing at the walls, wanting to tear the man to shreds. It will do both of them some good."

"Make sure you teach Maria how to hold her own. I'd hate to see any of you have to deal with that situation again," Ellen states, giving me a pointed look.

Flashing her a sheepish grin, I rub the back of my head, "Aw, c'mon, Ellen. That asshole is lucky I didn't string him up by his ankles and gut him like the animal he is. Don't worry, Mama Bear. I'll take the time to show Maria a few tricks."

Hearing an obnoxious car horn, I roll my eyes, "You and Jo call if you ever need anything. I'm..."

"Not sure when you'll be back?" Meeting Ellen's gaze, I offer her an apologetic grin, the woman giving off a husky laugh, "You're a Winchester, Tasha. It's not really built into you to stay in one place for so long. I'm surprised you stuck around after your eighteenth birthday."

"Meh," I shrug, "Felt the need to pay my dues," Ignoring the way lips part, most likely to repremend me for my words, I clap a hand on her shoulder, "See ya' around, Mama Bear."

Tugging my large duffle bag over my shoulder, I give the woman a cheeky grin before sauntering over to the midnight blue, 1969 Mustang. Tossing my bag into the trunk, I slide behind the wheel, Kaylin already digging around through my CD collection before popping one into the stereo. Glancing at Maria's curled up figure in the back seat, I inhale deeply before pulling out of the drive way of the Harvelle's. I know I waited long enough for Dean to hold up his end of the deal. An entire year I waited.

And I'm done waiting. A Winchester never waits.

The girls and I took to the open road for two years and in those two years, I managed to teach them everything I knew while learning new things about my friends that I hadn't known before. Maria was an excellent marskmen, probably able to rank up there with Dean, and I don't know how many times I was thankful for her medical knowledge. Kay turned out to be more of a genius than I previously believed. After two years of traveling on the road, the girls and I settled into a small town in Michigan and I used the money Ellen kept in an 'emergency' savings account to open up my own bar. The basement level had been converted into a workshop for Kay to tinker and create new gadgets and give a new spin on old ones. Maria helped tend the bar and raked in money that kept our Hunts financed.

The next four years had been...easy. We worked. We hunted. We lived. Everything had fallen into place. Until Ellen called me with news. News I wasn't sure how to take.

"What do you mean, dead? As in he might be dead cause he's been known to disappear for months on end? Or dead as in, hey, the son of a bitch is dead as a doornail?"

"He's dead, Tasha."

"Why is Mama Bear whispering?" I tease.

"Well, it might have something to do with two Winchesters sitting in my bar talking with Ash," I blink, "I wasn't sure if you wanted them to know we are aware of you."

I snort, "No offense, but how many years has it been? Thanks, but no thanks, Mama Bear. Look, I gotta go. I'll call you after this job is over."

"Stay safe."

"Safe is my middle name."

I didn't know how to handle the news of my dad dying. Dean never tried to get in contact with me. It would have been nice if he knocked on the proverbial mental door we had somehow set up between us, keeping us from running around in each other's dreams. Believe me, Dean dreams of things I'd rather not think about. I should have been sad, the man was my father after all, but as I sat in the quiet bar, downing yet another glass of rum, I found myself unable to shed a tear.

Of course, none of that could prepare me for the day Dean became a Hellhound's chew toy.

"Aw, man! These were my new jeans!"

My head falls back as laughter leaves my lips, Kay and I entering 'The Hole in the Wall' after yet another successful hunt. Maria greets us cheerfully as she pours three celebratory shots.

"So? Who won?" Maria asks.

"Eight."

"Fourteen."

I snicker at Kay's glare before raising my glass, "To those that are dead and to those that just won't stay dead!"

"Here! Here!"

As the whiskey hits the back of my throat, my entire body seizes up, my throat clamping around the liquid before I am forced to spit it all over the bar table. Screams of agony fills my head, my fingers becoming lax on the shot glass. A sharp burning sensation claws along my body, the glass shattering agains the floor as my hand clenches tightly at my shirt. Distant howls and growls swirls around my head, the clawing sensation greeted by oppressive heat, my knees buckling beneath the weight of my body.

'Dean!'

'Nat! Oh God! Nat, I'm so sorry.'

'Sorry? What's going on? Please, tell me you and Sammy are alright?'

'Sammy's fine. I...Nat, you have to close the door. You have to close the door and never look back.'

'Dean...'

'Sammy died last year and...I did the only thing I could think of.'

My eyes close, the pain searing and hot, my skin on fire, 'Please tell me you didn't make a deal with a demon?'

'I'm sorry, Nat. I thought...if I died, our bond would be severed. Nat...I'm sorry I never found you.'

'Not your fault. I didn't want to be found.' I bite down on my bottom lip as a sharp pain pierces through my shoulder, 'But I'm not turning my back on you, Dean. We're family. I'll do what I can to help you survive this and I will try to find a way to pull you out.'

'No!'

'Don't worry. I won't go making deals, I promise. Just...keep the door shut, unless you are able to go to sleep in Hell. Then...you can come find me in your dreams.'

'I love you, Nat.'

'Back at ya', Bro.'

"Tasha!"

Blinking back into awareness, I groan at the sight of my palm decorated in red cuts, the shards of what had once been my shot glass pierced through my skin. Carefully removing the glass and brushing away the blood, I move to my feet, limbs quivering as I drop my ass onto one of the stools.

"Maria, leave the bottle. The three of us need to chat."

Three months. Months that felt like decades. Three months I found myself fighting against the instinct to open the door between our minds, the clawing, burning and constant knocking inticing. At night, Dean was in my dreams. Sometimes, we talked about the good old days. Sometimes he asked me about Kay and Maria. Sometimes I asked him about his experiences Hunting with Sammy.

Most of the time, we spoke of revenge. Of slicing and dicing up the demon set on torturing Dean. Of the several different ways to use Holy Water as a torture device. Or how salt can come in handy. We spoke of ripping those milky-white eyes out of the demon's skull and slicing his tongue from his mouth. Of watching him choke on his own blood. Watching the wounds fester and the man cry for repreive.

Then the dreams stopped and so was the constant knocking against the mental door. All was silent.

That's when I knew it was time to talk to an old friend.

"Are you sure you don't want us to come with ya?" Maria asks as I toss a bag into the back of the Mustang.

"No. I'll be back as soon as I can. Unless it's an emergency, no Hunting while I'm gone, okay?"

Kay nods slowly, "You got it, Boss."

Offering the fiery-haired woman a half-assed grin, I shrug a shoulder before slipping into the driver's seat, "I'll call you when I figure out what's going on."

After driving over the city limit, I dig out my cell phone and scroll through the list of contacts. Finding the contact I need, I lift the phone to my ear.

"Hello?"

Hearing the gruff voice, I swallow the lump in my throat, "Hiya, Bobby."

"Who is this?"

"It's Natasha. I-"

"Nat? Where have you been girl? We've been lookin' everywhere for ya'."

I snort, "Hey. When I don't want to be found, I get lost. Look, I...I need to come talk to you. I have a really...bad feeling in my gut."

"You eldest Winchesters and your guts. A bunch of idjits is what y'are"

Snickering despite the situation, a small half-smile tugs across my lips, "I should be there by nightfall."

Hanging up, I inhale deeply and silently pray that something, anything really, will help my brother. He didn't deserve Hell. He may not be a model citizen, but I'd like to see anyone grow up in our life and come out compassionate and in touch with their 'inner most emotions'. No. My brother was a good man. He doesn't deserve Hell. He doesn't deserve months of torture.

'Please...someone help him. Someone save Dean Winchester.'