AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys, just a little introduction to this fic. I'm pretty new to the Supernatural fandom and I only just finished season two a few days ago, so I have very little knowledge about what's coming. But I guess that's perfect for this fic because I'm writing it as I watch the show. I rewound a bit for this first chapter so I can introduce my OC and her family and give some background. Basically the idea is that Mary and John had a daughter six years before Dean was born, and that's Lana. I wanted to do a fic where the OC didn't romance any of the characters on the show, but I wanted there to be a close relationship between the Winchesters and the OC, so I made her their sister and had her be married already. (Wow this intro is getting long.) I also wanted her to be a kind of surrogate mother for the boys after Mary died (oh and yes she named her first daughter after her mother) because I feel like the boys are just so alone most of the time and they only have each other, which is fine. But there's no healing between them because Dean hates "chick flick moments" so I wanted someone that they would willingly turn to for comfort and to talk (yes, even Dean does), so Lana was born. There was a song that inspired this whole thing from the get-go, and that's "Brother" by NEEDTOBREATHE and Gavin DeGraw. If you listen to it a couple times, maybe look at the lyrics, then you'll understand the inspiration and see where I'm coming from. So to sum up this actually quite lengthy introduction, this will be a fic with a lot of feelings and a lot of hunting and the title is lyrics from a favorite song of mine. Oh and the typical disclaimer: I own nothing but my character Lana and her family. Enjoy.
Buzzzzz, buzzzzz, buzzzzzz. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, glancing briefly at the caller I.D. before answering. "Hey, little D, what's up?" I asked, smiling and pausing the show I was watching.
"Lana, I need your help," my younger brother, Dean Winchester, said.
"What's the problem?"
"It's a long story but Dad's missing and Sam won't help out, you know the deal."
"Missing? How long? Where are you?"
"Yeah, he's been gone almost a week now. I just dropped Sam off at his apartment in Stanford."
"Alright. Just sit tight and I'll get the first flight outta Little Rock." I stood and walked to my room, grabbing a suitcase from the hall closet on the way.
"Great, thanks-" Through the phone I heard a distant shout and then, "Sam!"
"Dean, what's-?" The line cut off before I got my answer, so I ended the call and hurried to pack. I passed my daughters' bedroom, where my husband Zach was putting them to bed. "Zach, need you," I said.
I was throwing clothes into my suitcase when he walked in and asked, "What's up, darling?"
"Just got off the phone with Dean. Dad's missing and something's up with Sam. I'm going to California to see what I can do. Don't know how long I'll be gone but I'll call when I get there and get things figured out."
"Alright," he said. "You'll need these, right?" I turned and looked at him; he was holding out my twin daggers and my handgun.
"Yeah," I said. "I might need those. Just put them in the suitcase, please. I would take them in the carry-on-"
"But they're not allowed."
"Right. Oh and-"
"Unload the gun, because firearms have to be completely unloaded in checked baggage. Yeah, I know." He smiled and I smiled back sheepishly.
"Sorry," I said. "I'm just worried about my brothers."
"I know, love." He stepped away from the suitcase and placed his hands on my shoulders. "That's why you're flying out to California to be with them." I turned to him and put my hands in the crooks of his elbows.
"I promise I'll be back as soon as I can," I said, leaning in to kiss him lightly. Then I finished packing and took a moment to say good night to my daughters. The eldest, Mary, was six, and Jackie was two. "Good night, girls," I said, giving each a kiss on the forehead.
"Where are you going?" Mary asked.
I smiled. "I'm just going to see Uncle Dean and Uncle Sam."
"Ooh, can we go too? We haven't seen them in forever."
"I know, Mary, but not this time. Maybe I'll bring them back with me to see you, okay?"
"Yay!" both girls squealed.
"Now go to sleep, and I'll see you guys soon, alright?"
"Okie dokie, Mommy," said Jackie.
"Good night, Mommy." I smiled again, gave them one last kiss, and then let Zach see me to my car. As I slid into the driver's seat of my Toyota, he said, "Go. Take care of the boys. And be safe."
I replied, "I will," as he shut the door. I pulled out of the driveway and headed for the airport.
On the plane I called Dean, hoping he would pick up. I tried five times in the first half hour but when he didn't answer, I left it be and hoped he would call back. He did, after another hour.
"Hey Lana," he said.
"Hey Dean."
"You headed out here?"
"Yeah, I'm on a plane to California right now. I'll be landing at the San Jose airport in about four hours. Can you pick me up there?"
"Sure."
"Is Sammy okay?"
"Yeah, he's fine."
"What happened? Why'd you hang up so suddenly?"
Dean sighed and said, "It's a long story." There was a pause, and then, "I'll tell you when I pick you up, okay?"
"Okay." I hesitated, then asked, "Can I talk to him?"
"Probably not a good idea at the moment. He's pretty shaken up about what happened."
"Alright, well tell him I'm coming, got it?"
"Yes, mother," my little brother joked. I smiled, remembering all the times he'd called me that when we were kids and I would boss him around.
"Thanks. See you soon."
"See ya." I hung up, then turned and looked out the window. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that if Sam was shaken up over what happened, then whatever it was had to have concerned either Dad or Jessica, Sam's girlfriend. I doubted Dean knew about her, since he and Sam didn't really get along that well after Sam stormed out and left for college. I only knew about Jessica because I try to call my little brothers at least once a month, if not more, to see how they're doing. Ever since Mom died when Sam was only six months old, it had fallen on me to be their mom. I would pack our lunches in the morning, on those days when we went to school, and I would make sure Dean and Sam took their baths and washed behind their ears. I would even cut their hair and wash their faces.
I just hoped they were okay now.
A sigh of relief escaped my lips when I saw the black 1967 Impala and I couldn't keep a smile off my lips as I shoved my suitcase into the back seat before sliding into the passenger's seat next to Dean. My smile faded, however, when I saw Dean's expression. "So what happened?" I asked as he pulled away from the airport.
Dean sighed. "Well, like I said at first, Dad's been missing. Last I saw him he was going on a hunt, said he'd be back in a day or two. Two days passed and he wasn't back, but I waited a couple more days before going to get Sammy."
"Sammy agreed to go with you?" As I said this, I twisted around in the seat and rummaged in my suitcase for my gun and knives.
"Yeah. Took a lot of convincing though. Almost had to beat him up." I turned around and sat back down in the seat, putting the weapons in my lap. Dean glanced at them before continuing. "You brought your own gear?"
"Just my gun and knives." Dean only grunted as I loaded my 9mm subcompact pistol, being careful to keep it out of sight through the windows. "So, keep going."
"We followed Dad to the hunt he had been on. Found his room and all his research on the case - it was a White Woman, by the way - but not him. Finished the case and then I took Sam home. He said he didn't want to go back to the hunter's life, that it wasn't for him. So I took him home." Dean paused. "And then his apartment burned."
"Is Jessica alright?" I asked, aghast.
"She- wait, you know about Jessica?"
"I know she's Sam's girlfriend, if that's what you're asking. They've been dating for almost two years now. You haven't talked to Sam for more than three years, Dean, whereas I talk to Sam almost weekly. Of course I know about Sam's girlfriend."
A long, silent five minutes passed before Dean said, "She was his girlfriend."
"Was?" I asked, expecting the worst, and receiving it.
"When Sam got home, he found her on the ceiling, just like Mom."
"Oh God," I said, covering my mouth. My eyes filled with tears as I thought of it. My Sam, my little Sammy… "Oh God."
"Yeah, well, he shouted when he found her and that's when I hung up. I ran in and found him still lying on his bed and dragged him out of his apartment before he got caught in the flames too."
"He's not handling it well at all, is he?"
"No." There was another long silence, then, "I'm glad you came, Lana. You know I hate chick flick moments-"
"Dean, talking about how you feel is not necessarily a chick flick moment!"
"Whatever, sis. I'm just glad you're here to do the chick flick thing with Sam so I don't have to."
I rolled my eyes. "You know you have 'chick flick moments'" - I punctuated my point with air quotes - "with me all the time."
"I do not!"
"Yeah you do, all the time. Okay, sure, you don't ever intend to, but I twist the conversation that way more often than not, and you know it." Dean started to protest again but I cut him off. "Just admit it, little D. You like telling your big sister all about those girls whose hearts you hate to break when you can only have one-night stands with them because you're a big tough hunter-"
"Aw come on, Lana!" I only laughed, and then he laughed and said, "Besides, I'm not your little brother any more. I'm taller than you now."
"Are you crazy? No you're not."
"Yes I am. I am totally taller than you."
"How tall are you, Deany?"
"One, don't call me Deany, that's just stupid. And two, I'm six foot one and a quarter, thank you very much."
I shook my head. "I've got you beat, bub. I'm six foot three exactly."
"You are not!"
"Yeah, I am. You wanna measure, 'cause I'm sure we could find a measuring tape and figure this out."
"Yeah, I do," he said, looking at me fiercely. Then he muttered, "You must have hit a growth spurt while you were gone.
"A growth spurt?" I laughed. "Dean, I'm thirty-two years old. The only way I'm gonna grow is out. You've just never accepted the fact that I'm taller than you, always have been and always will be."
"Whatever you say, sis," he said as he rolled his eyes, but I heard him chuckle and I smiled as the rest of the road to the motel passed in comfortable silence.
We reached the motel and I was at the room door with my baggage before I realized that the Impala was still running and Dean had not gotten out of the car. I turned and looked at him. "Aren't you coming in?"
"Nah," he said. "I think I'll go get something to eat, and maybe some beer, while you and Sam talk things out." He moved to drive away but then stopped and asked, "You want anything?"
"Yeah, sure."
He waited. "Well, what do you want?"
"Oh, just whatever you get. I'm not picky right now."
"Okay. Be back soon." I nodded and he drove off. I watched him go and then turned back to the door, trying the handle. It was locked but Dean had given me the key, so I unlocked it and went in, taking my luggage with me. Darkness filled the room, the only illumination coming from the small television in the corner. I could see Sam's outline in the blue glow, and I deposited my baggage on the floor by the table before taking a few steps towards Sam.
"That you, Dean?" he asked. His voice was flat, emotionless.
"No, Sam. It's me," I answered.
"Lana?" He turned and looked my way, standing from his seat on the foot of the bed.
"Yeah." I held my arms open and in a few steps he had engulfed me in one of his patently Sammy hugs. His body was shaking, and soon the sound of sobs filled the room and I felt the dampness of his tears on my shoulder. "Oh God, Sammy," I said. "I'm so sorry." I hugged him tightly, squeezing him with all my strength. Then I pulled back and took his face in my hands, looking him in the eyes. "Do you want to talk about it?"
He shook his head. "There's not really much to say, is there?" he said, moving to sit down on the bed again. I sat beside him and turned the lamp on, giving us a little more light. In the new lighting, I could see the tear streaks on his face and the sadness in the lines of his face. "She's gone, and there was nothing I could do." He choked as he said, "She'd made me chocolate chip cookies and left a plate of them on the table with a note that said she missed me and she loved me." He covered his face with his hands and cried. I wrapped my arms around him again, willing all the peace and comfort in me to go to him.
Eventually he stopped crying and I asked, "When is the funeral?"
"They haven't planned it yet, but it'll probably be within the week."
"Do you want Dean and I to come?"
He laughed grimly. "I doubt Dean wants to. But I would appreciate it if you were there."
"You know Dean is still your brother, right? And he would do anything for you, even go to a funeral."
"I guess." He looked so tired, and so old for his twenty-two years.
"Hey, get some sleep if you can, okay?" I said. "You look like crap."
He looked up then and saw the small smile on my face. Slowly, he smiled back and said, "Well, you look old."
"I'm thirty-two, little brother, and I've had two kids. Of course I look old."
"Hey, I'm taller than you now, Lana. You can't really call me little brother any more."
"You know, Dean said the same thing, but he's only six-one and I'm six-three, so I can still call him little brother."
Sam stood, fully smiling now. "Well, I'm six-four and a half, so I've got you beat, sis."
"You're still my little brother, Sammy. Always will be." He gathered me into another hug and then the door opened and Dean stepped in.
"You left the door unlocked?" he asked, shoving aside books to set a greasy paper take-out bag down on the table. Then he looked up, saw us hugging, and said, "You guys done yet?"
Sam let go of me and rolled his eyes. I smiled and turned to my other brother. "Yeah, Dean, we're done."
"What'd you get?" Sam asked, going to the table.
"Beer and burgers."
"Perfect," I said, sitting down and taking out a burger for myself.
A week later, Sam stood at Jessica's grave, flowers in hand. I was standing a distance behind him, and Dean was leaning against the Impala. We had been to the funeral earlier that day and had gone to get flowers while they put her coffin in the ground and covered it with earth. Now Sam kneeled down and placed the flowers against the headstone, murmuring a few words. After a few minutes, I walked up behind him and put my hand on his shoulder. We stayed like that for a few moments, then he stood, turned, hugged me, and we walked back to the Impala and Dean.
Once back at the motel, we packed up while discussing the boys' plan. Dad had left Dean a note with coordinates to somewhere, and they planned to go there. "Will you come with us?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, we could use your help," Dean added.
"No, I can't," I said, zipping shut my suitcase. "I have to get back home. I've got responsibilities. I've got a whole forest to take care of."
"That's too bad. It'd be fun to hunt with you again." Dean smiled and turned to me.
I smiled back. "Yeah, it would. You boys oughtta come out to my place sometime and do some hunting."
"You get stuff in the forest?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, sometimes."
"Well, if we pass through Arkansas we'll give you a call."
"You better," I said, ruffling Sam's hair like he was a kid. He only smiled and hugged me. "And you know you can call me whenever you need me. My phone's never off." I moved to ruffle Dean's hair but he slapped my hand away so I pulled him into a hug instead; he sighed and rolled his eyes. Then we took our stuff out to the Impala and they drove me to the airport. I waved one last time as I wheeled my luggage through the doors and they drove off.
AN: Hey, hope you liked it! Just wanted to say a thing or two real quick. 1) Lana is supposed to look like the actress Jennifer Wilson. If you look her up, you'll see what she looks like. 2) Jennifer is really only 6'2, but I thought, hey, an extra inch doesn't hurt. I wanted Lana to be taller than Dean anyway.