Holly POV
"Come down to eat, Holly," my mother hollers up at me.
I reluctantly wake up from my strange dream to see the bright sky blue that paints my room. I have photos and personal items on my walls and dresser. Personalizing my space has always been a hobby of mine. Hopping out of bed, I slip out of my pajamas and into my clothes before heading down the stairs for breakfast.
Mom has always made it a point to have meals together whenever we can, and we all eat breakfast together unless her or Don need to go into work early.
"You look nice today," Mom compliments.
I give her a questioning look. "I am wearing the same thing I wore last week." It's just some jeans and a patterned shirt with slightly wavy sleeves.
"Still," Mom says. "You look nice."
Reading the paper, Don informs us, "The fair is coming this weekend. I was wondering if you would like to go with your mother and me." He smiles, trying to get me to say yes.
Shaking my head, I reply, "Probably not. I am going to April's house for a sleepover."
Disappointed he sighs, "Ok." My relationship with Don has been tense over the last couple years, so I rarely go places with him anymore.
To be completely honest, I do not have anything planned for the weekend, but I know April has my back. She will be fine with me coming over. After all, she has been my best friend since I can remember, and we always look out for one another.
During breakfast, Mom brings up my grades. I have been having trouble in chemistry. "I saw on your report card that you got a 'D' in chemistry. You understand that you have to bring that up if you want to stay in the National Honors Society."
Knowing I have been trying my best, I lie, "I will." Chemistry is not my strong point, but I don't want to disappoint my parent's.
Not thinking anything of it, I ask, "Don. Can you pass the salt?" Everyone suddenly goes quiet. You could hear a pin drop. I nervously swallow, knowing that Don gets mad when I call him by his first name.
I hear a deep and raspy sigh. Then Don grits his teeth, probably to control his anger. Giving me a deadly look, Don states, "Holly. I am your father. Call me Dad. To you, I am not Don."
Mom stays quiet.
Whispering under my breath, I scoff, "You're not my dad."
Slamming his fork on the table, Don declares, "I raised you. You are my daughter".
Feeling braver than usual, I stand up to him for the first time in months. "You are not my father! No matter how many times you say it, claiming you are my dad will not magically change my DNA." I wave my arms around as I talk.
Getting up from his chair, Don firmly states,"Do not speak back to me young lady!"
"Don," my mom gently says, trying to get her husband to calm down.
When there is a knock at the door, Don goes to open it seething with rage. One man is on the other side of the door. He is dressed in a long tan trench coat, and his face lacks emotion.
Don rudely asks, "What?"
"I have come for Holly. She is in danger, and I have come to protect her," the man says.
"You think I can not protect my own family?" Don yells.
"No." The man says blankly. "You are not capable of that."
Don punches this man in the face, but from the way my stepdad winces and holds his hand, I'd say he was the one who got hurt. The other guy does not have a mark.
Walking inside our house, past my stepfather, the stranger introduces himself as Castiel, an angel of the Lord. I want to laugh at his claim, but a crack of thunder and a shadow of wings behind him makes me reconsider.
"Come. I must protect you." Castiel says looking at me.
"I don't even understand who you are. What do you want with me," I ask?
"Demons and angels want to capture and or kill you."
"What is going on here?" Mom asks, concern growing in her voice.
A black smoke seems to come out of nowhere and cover the windows. The room goes from being bright to flickering lights being the only thing keeping it from going completely dark.
"They're here," Castiel states as if this is normal. Then with one touch to my forehead, we are out of my house, and from the looks of things, we are out of my time as well. Most people would not notice, but there are less electric cars, and no cars made past when I started preschool.
Castiel and I stand outside of an old roached out motel. The place looks cheap and seems to be falling apart at the seams. Moss covers a good twenty percent of the exterior, and it looks as if it was last painted twenty years ago.
"This is where you want to protect me?" I ask.
"No. I need to get back to my own time. I will come for you when it is safe for you to return."
Castiel poofs away out of nowhere, and I am left standing in the parking lot, with only the cars to keep me company.
"Great," I sarcastically huff.
Sam POV
I am up drinking coffee, and Dean is still asleep. With everything that has been going on with the British Men of Letters, I may as well try to find a hunt so Dean and I can blow off some steam. As I am doing the research, Castiel pops into the room. "Sam. Dean. This is of grave importance." Looking over to a sleeping Dean, Cas loudly shouts the older Winchester's name.
"Cas. It's not even noon," Dean groans. He is still tired from being up all night driving.
"What's up Cas?" I ask, hoping it could be news of Lucifer's kid.
"I am not the Castiel of your time. You, Sam and Dean, need to make sure she is not followed by demons or angels. Demons want to capture or kill her. Most of the angels think it would be best if she is dead."
Interrupting him, I ask, "Who are you talking about?"
"Your daughter Sam. I left her in the parking lot." Just like that Castiel was gone again.
"Dude, what is Cas talking talking about?" Dean asks, having paid little attention to the angel.
Still processing Castiel's words, I say, "I don't know."
I think about brushing off what Cas has told us, but so far, every incident having to do with time travel is of significance. So unless Cas suddenly gained a sense of humor, I need to look into this.
Holly POV
I wander around the parking lot for a couple of minutes before I accept that Castiel abandoned me in a strange place and time. I shiver as a cold gust of wind blows through the trees.
Hearing footsteps fast approaching me, I turn around and see someone jogging my way. The first thing I notice is his height. He is way over six feet. I am 5'11, so I am not used to people towering over me.
"Hey, you!" The guy says.
I timidly ask, "Yeah?" Being out of my year is unnerving.
Pushing the hair out of his face, the tall man asks, "Did someone bring you here? Are you just hanging around the hotel or...?" He trails off presumedly waiting for an answer.
Unsure whether I can trust the man, I decide just to be honest. Maybe this guy could help. Then again, who would believe my story? No sane person would. "I do not think you would believe me."
"Try me."
Needing someone from this time to confide in, I tell him, " I was at breakfast when some guy in a trench coat comes to the door saying he is an angel and that his name is Castiel. Then black smoke blocked out our windows, the lights flickered, and Castiel said something about demons. Next, he zapped, poofed, or whatever-you-want-to-call-it me to another time. I think I am in the past?" I end, questioning if I even make the slightest bit of sense.
The guy nods. "Ok."
Ok? Just ok? He seems to believe me, yet he is still relatively unfazed. Does this thing happen regularly with the people I am meeting today?
"What's your name?" He asks.
"Does this mean you believe me?" I ask.
"Yeah." He tells me, "Castiel is a friend of mine. The year is 2017, and I completely believe you. Trust me. Weirder things have happened."
"Are you serious?" I ask.
"Yes. It is 2017-".
I interrupt, "No. I mean you have seen weirder things than time travel, demons, and angels?"
Taking in a drawn out breath, the guy answers, "Yep." I kick a piece of gravel out of frustration. Again, he asks, "You want to tell me your name now?"
I sigh, "Holly."
"Let us get you inside Holly." It is a bit cold out, and he must know that because he drapes his jacket over my shoulders. Placing a hand on my back, he guides me towards his motel room.
I hope I can trust this guy. I do not want to end up a victim of some heinous crime.
For some reason, the tall man seems familiar; even though, I know that I have never met him.
Walking into the motel room, I notice another guy in there lying on one of the beds with a pillow over his head. I look over towards to the one who brought me in. He gave a half smile saying, "That's my brother, Dean." Shutting the door behind us, he adds, "I'm Sam."
More concerned for my safety than their names, I ask, "Is something trying to get me?"
"I think so, but we can protect you."
"Sammy. Who are you talking to?" Dean asks, sitting up. Seeing me, he turns to Sam, "Dude, why did you bring a chick back to the room? I am sleeping here."
"We have a case," Sam says.
Still sitting on the bed, Dean swings his feet on the floor. Rubbing his tired face, he asks, "What's going on?"
"I don't exactly know," Sam admits. Turning to me, he asks, "How old are you?"
I answer, "Sixteen."
"And you are from the year..."
"2029", I fill in.
After a second, a confused look crosses Sam's face. Then a worried look sets in. "So you are four somewhere out there?" Sam asks.
"I did not think about it, but yeah. I guess."
Butting in, Dean says, "If something is after her, there must be a reason why."
Remembering the black smoke and flickering lights, I ask, "My mom and dad were with me when everything happened. Will they be alright?" Explaining my relationship with Don to strangers is complicated, so I still call him dad in those situations to make it easier.
"Honestly, we don't know," Sam admits. "But our job is to keep you safe until you get back to 2029."
"Why can't I just go back to my mom. If I have already been born, she should believe me. Right?" I ask, not believing it myself.
"I don't think that would be a good idea," Dean says. "What are you going to say, "Hi mom. I am your daughter from the year 2029. Can I stay with you because an angel sent me back in time?" I narrow my eyes at Dean, but he is right. Mom would never believe that.
Thinking of my childhood dog, I ask, "Can I at least go by and see Riot? He passed away when I was a kid."
"You still are a kid," Dean says.
"Riot?" Sam asks, "The dog Riot?" His eyes widen slightly.
"Yes, my childhood dog." How did Sam know Riot was a dog?
The color drains from Sam's face. It takes him a moment to say anything, but what he does say stuns me. "You are Amelia's daughter aren't you?"
"She is not Amelia's daughter. Not the Amelia you know at least. You said she didn't have any kids," Dean says.
"Quiet Dean," Sam shushes his brother.
Unsure how Sam knows Mom, I ask, "How do you know my mom?"
Holding out his hand, Sam says, "Let's start over. I am Sam. Sam Winchester."
The gears in my head immediately click. Dad! Sam is my dad. As I take his outstretched hand, I absentmindedly introduce myself as, "Holly Makenzie Winchester-Richardson."
"Oh," Dean says absentmindedly. Rethinking the last name combined with time travel, Dean's expression changes to one of realization, and he repeats a more drawn out, "Oh!"
Without thinking, I grab my dad and pull him into a hug, which he quickly returns. Both of us have a firm hold on the other, and I do not think either of us wishes to let go.
"You don't know me," Sam asks or rather states.
Letting go, I shake my head 'no.'
"When is your birthday?" Sam asks. "And what year?"
"October 28th, 2013," I tell him.
Sam disappointedly breaths out, "Amelia did not even tell me."
Remembering what Mom told me, I state, "She said that you made up your mind about leaving, and did not want to ruin her marriage. So she never said anything to you."
"As long as Amelia was safe, I did not care what she did. But family, family is everything we've got." Sam takes a glance at his brother then turns back to me. "If you ask any Winchester, family comes before anything. I would never have let you grow up without knowing me. Never."
I believe Sam. He seems very sincere. There is anguish in his expression. It makes me feel loved to know he hurts because he never knew me. Sam is someone that I would be happy to call Dad. With Don, the title always seems forced. Even before I knew he was not my birth father, Don always looked at me with distaste. It was like every time he saw me, it was an insult, but he still wanted Mom to stay. She would have left the instant she knew he was not treating me as his own.
"I like you better than Don anyway," I say.
With concern, Sam asks, "Is he mean to you?"
Wondering if I should say anything, I just leave it at, "He has a temper. I think it makes it worse that I am not his."
Sam clenches his fists, and his knuckles go white.
Raising my eyebrows, I remind Sam, "Don was in the military. I do not know if you should exactly think about confronting him."
Sam curtly says, "He does not scare me."
"Have you been somewhere worse than Afghanistan?" I inquire, trying to get Dad to see reason. I don't want anything to happen to him.
"Definitely," Dad responds.
"We are hunters. Nobody scares us anymore," Dean speaks up.
I shake my head at their foolishness. Hunting a bunch of critters would never prepare themselves for anything accept an animal attack. Who do they think they are?
Seeing my face, Dean clarifies, "We don't hunt rabbits or squirrels. Hey, even bears and mountain lions would be a piece of cake to be around. No. We hunt monsters."
"Monsters?" Are they serious?
Nodding his head, Dean says, "Yes, monsters! Werewolves, vampires, ghosts, zombies, demons; we even killed death once upon a time."
"Are you joking?" I ask, slightly amused at my uncle's creativity.
Sam chuckles, "Not in the slightest."
"Prove it," I demand.
Raising an eye, Dad reminds me, "An angel sent you back in time, and you question the existence of monsters? The black smoke you saw surrounding your house were demons. That is what they look like without a host."
"Have you ever fought with a demon?" I ask concerned.
"More times than we can count," Dad recounts.
"You must be bad at math," I say trying to lighten up the mood.
Sam rolls his eyes.
"Does this mean I get to stay with you for a while Dad?" I ask.
I catch Sam's smile at what I called him.
Patting my shoulder, he says, "Yes Holly. It does."
_ A/N _
This is my first time posting a Supernatural fanfiction, so please, tell me what you think. Any and all feedback is appreciated. I have a hard time staying focused on one story at a time because of my ADHD, and comments would encourage me to try hard to keep focused on writing this story. (I may not see comments on this story immediately. I will be checking it more frequently on Wattpad.)
