A/N: Lovely readers, bare with me. I have never written AU before. Opinions/reviews would be helpful.

Chapter One: Breakfast

Hunter had been waiting for the Madagascar trip all year. Her bags had been packed practically since she found out about the trip, and it was driving her brothers insane that she wouldn't stop talking about it. She kept talking about plants and mountains and rivers and animals they had never even heard of, smiling like a big idiot the entire time. She was in the middle of describing the weather patterns for the tenth time in as many days when she was interrupted.

"We get it, Hun!" Dean cried with a mouthful of food the Monday morning before she left. "Madagascar! Lemurs. Blah, blah, fucking blah!"

Sam laughed into his coffee mug as Hunter scowled at her oldest brother, her green eyes, so like his, hard and fierce. Her face was set in such a way that suggested he should prepare for broken bones. "It's not just lemurs, Dean," she started, her voice stern and agitated. "Do you have any idea what kind of flora they have in that region? For that matter, the insects?"

Sam cut off Dean before he could answer, doing his best as middle-child to defuse the bomb that was his siblings. "Relax, Hun. He just means that you've talked a lot about it," Sam said gently, elbowing Dean when he opened his mouth to interject (or complain, Sam was never sure), silencing him. "I know it's only a few days away, and you're excited, but I'm pretty sure we know everything about Madagascar at this point."

"Really?" Hunter said, eyes narrowed. "I find that hard to believe."

Sam sighed. "Madagascar is the world's fourth largest island in the world," Sam recited, "after Greenland, Papua New Guinea and Borneo."

"The languages are French, English and..." Dean paused for a minute looking at Sam. "Magsy?"

"Malagasy," Sam corrected. He took a bite of his scrambled eggs as Dean nodded, going on to the next bit of trivia his sister had ingrained in his brain. "One of the most important industries of Madagascar is their breweries-"

Hunter scowled as she rolled her eyes. "You would remember that," she scoffed.

Dean gave her a wolfish smile. "I like me some beer," he said with a wag of his brows. "But they also have strong industrial roots in sugar, paper and cement."

Sam picked up as soon as Dean finished speaking. "And the highest mountain is Maromokotro, which is almost 3000 metres, and you plan on climbing it before you die."

"And," Dean said waving a peice of bacon as he spoke, "it only has two seasons. Hot and rainy, or cold and dry." Dean chuckled as he added, "Both of which sound awful."

Both of the brothers stared at their baby sister, who sat with her arms folded over her chest, her eyes darting between the two. Her bottom lip was puckered out as she frowned, trying to remember when she had told them all these things. Finally she sighed, unfolding her arms to rest them on the table as she said, "Touche... but you forgot to mention the lemurs."

Sam laughed, Dean raising a brow at her and smiled as he chewed. "I believe I did say blah, blah, fucking lemurs."

A smile tugged at the corner of Hunter's lips as she gave her brother a raised brow. After a few moments she spoke again.

"I'm sorry guys," she sighed. "I didn't realize I had been talking about it so much. I'm just super excited, you know? It's my first time out of America, and I'm going to one of the most beautiful places in the entire world." She paused for a moment before adding, "I bet Dad would know all about it."

Dean paused with a peice of bacon halfway to his mouth, his eyes darkening slightly as a sadness passed over his features.

"I'm sorry," Hunter said quickly, realizing her mistake. "That was stupid, forget I said anything. Sorry."

Dean shook himself quickly, his signature carefree grin falling over his face instantly, though it didn't touch his eyes. "It's okay, Hunter," he told her. "We should be able to talk about him. We can talk about him if you want."

Sam shot a worried look towards Hunter, and she understood what he was trying to say. Tread carefully, we don't know if he means it.

"He used to read me Dr. Seuss," Dean blurted. Hunter jumped at his sudden vocalization. Her gaze quickly shifted to Dean as he chuckled. His eyes were on his plate, his bacon dropped and forgotten.

"Green Eggs and Ham every St. Patty's," he mumbled. "Sammy hated it."

Sam laughed, trying to lighten the mood. "Only because you used to call me 'Sam-I-ammy' for weeks afterwards."

Dean laughed genuinely, the sad, haunted look fading somewhat from his face and being replaced with a carefree, childlike joy. "Oh, fuck," he laughed. "Sam-I-ammy. I forgot about that!"

Sam sighed and shook his head as though he was exhasperated, but while Dean was busy laughing, he sent Hunter a quick wink. She let out a careful breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

Hunter hadn't known their father, John, long before he had died. She had only moved in with them after her mother had died from heart failure, leaving John, Dean and Sam as her only living relatives. She had shipped herself to John's doorstep when she was 15, taking what little money she had to run from the hospital to the address that was scrawled in her mother's journal, begging them with tears in her eyes to take her in, to not let her end up like those other kids in the foster homes she had heard so much about. Dean had been the one to convince John to let her stay, his voice ringing through the walls as he screamed that she was blood, that she needed them, that he wouldn't abandon her, that he cared even if John didn't. John didn't speak with her much after telling her that she could stay, except to give her random gifts of money or weapons or to talk of the war. Dean, on the other hand, had taken to her immediately, taking her under his wing, as he had Sam, becoming more of a father figure in a few days then John had been in her entire life. Dean had been 21 at the time. Sammy was only 17.

John had died a year later.

Dean had been home alone with him, and Hunter and Sam still didn't know the full story. They were told that John had died from a drug over-dose, but the haunted look that Dean got when they spoke about him suggested that there had been more to the story then they knew. They never pried though, and they tried to bring up John as little as possible. Still, he came up every now and then, and Hunter and Sam always carefully sidestepped, changing the conversation as quickly as possible.

"Okay," Dean said as he clunked his coffee cup down. "Me and Sam have to get to work. Did you want a ride today?"

Hunter smiled at her older brother, plucking a piece of bacon off his plate as she stood. "Yeah, drop me at the library," she said closing her books on the table and stacking them to pack into her bag, bacon hanging from her mouth. "Have to do some research."

Sam sighed as he pulled his boots on. "You're worse then me, kiddo, and I went to Stanford."

"For two months," Hunter said incredulously as she jammed books into her bag. "I plan at being at Oxford for years."

"All right, you two, quit bragging," Dean laughed. "And we all know I win here anyway because I'm the prettiest."

"Also the jerkiest," Sam smiled.

"And the bitchiest," Hunter interjected.

"Whoa!" Dean said seriously, pausing in tying on his boots. "Sam's the bitchiest. Long established truth."

Hunter rolled her eyes. There were just some jokes between her brothers that she would never be a part of. "All right, fine," she conceded. "And I'm the winning-est. Can we please just go?"

Dean stood, a hand clapping Hunter on the shoulder. "Sure thing, Charlie Sheen."

Hunter just rolled her eyes again as they all trudged out the door.