Carry on my wayward son
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your wary head to rest
Don't you cry no more
A 1967 Chevy Impala sits alone in a forest, deep in the trees. Once cherry black and well taken care of its color has faded and scratches and dings cover her body. The back window is gone, shattered, with the remnants of the glass are strewed across the floor of the forest. Once most important object in the universe, it now sits abandoned with nearly no one left to remember its story. Everyone in the nearby town knows the cars sits there, and everyone argues about whose job it is to remove it. The city claims it's the auto part shops job, they claim it's the forest service and the forest service says it's the city. After arguing for a good 14 months they just gave up and left it to be. No one has noticed the small arsenal in under the false bottom, or the cassettes in the back seat. No one has seen the box full of fake identities in the glove compartments, with two very real birth certificates. Weeds grow around and try to grow through, and sap and bird poop cover the top.
Everyone avoids it except one little girl. She spends whatever time she can in the woods and around the car. It's her play house, giving her freedom she doesn't have at home. She doesn't know the importance of it, no one does, the stories of the Winchesters have been forgotten. They left no true legacies. The hunter community is now small and wide spread; the few who knew of the Winchesters don't speak about them. But the little girl is draw to the car. The car becomes her refugee when she is 7 and her mother and older brother are killed in a car crash and no one is left to protect her from her father's alcoholism. She spends every afternoon after school playing in the car. She slowly moved all of her favorite toys to the car when her dad became fond of throwing them away. Her favorite toys went to the car first. He was too drunk to notice.
By the time she's 12 the town has starting ignoring her and her dad. She has no friends; her brother had been her only friend. She digs up some stuff from the library and the Internet on how to fix old cars. It took her awhile to find what car she was fixing. From that point forward, it was her 'baby'. It's even harder to find the supplies she needed to fix the car, but she gets to know the guy who owns the car shop pretty well. She repaired what she can and replaces what she can't. Nobody understands why she's doing it. Her dad doesn't even realize it. She's 13 when she notices what's left of the arsenal in the trunk. She decided to leave it there; maybe someday she'll learn how to use them. That year she discovers the initials carved into the car, the fake ID's in the glove compartment and the birth certificates. She leaves them, as a tribute to the previous owner. After all, it's their car that saved her.
It takes her two years to get the car to run again when she discovers the army men stuffed in the ashtray and the Legos stuffed radiator. It takes another 3 before it's fully restored and she fixes the box of cassettes, she puts them in and decided to keep them. The songs aren't bad. When she's 17 she spends the year teaching herself how to use every weapon the trunk. She cuts herself a few times, and almost gets shot another couple. Her dad is so out of it he never notices. By this time, she's stopped going to school. No one ever came around asking for her.
The day she turns 18 she takes the stuff she's had in a suitcase in the back of her closet, puts it in the trunk with everything else she's kept in there for the last 11 years, and the fake ID's as well as the arsenal and leaves the town forever. She leaves behind her forest, her abusive dad, her family's graves, and the town's people who never lifted a hand to help her. She never looks back, taking only a suitcase of clothes, her toys, a couple hundred dollars, and whatever was in the car already. The car that saved the world saved her and that was all that mattered. Someday somebody will tell her the story of how important that car was, and someday she'll give it to her kids who will continue the car's legacy. Someday she will build up the hunter's community again. Someday she will salt and burn her father after his ghost becomes vengeful. Someday she will make the world see what good the Winchesters did, and have the brothers reburied under their rightful names beside their mother. But right now all Mary Winchester looks at is an open road of freedom.
So the name of the character is mostly coincidental. She's not directly related to the brothers, but ya know. Is this story awful or just marginally okay or are you about to explode with amazingness? Should I continue? Should I stop asking questions? So, Review?