A/N For all of you who like Twilight, but think Bella is an annoying insipid charcater, this is the story for you. I decided to replace Bella with my version of Sam Winchester from Supernatural. For this to work Sam is now a 17 year old girl and Dean is 21. - Set between In My Time of Dying and Simon Says, however, spoilers for seasons 1-3. Much of the same dialouge from Twilight has been used. I do not mean to copyright Twilight in any way, I am simply trying to improve the story.

First Sight

Werewolves are created when an infected human bites another human while they are transformed. This, however, is rare as werewolves in their changed state are usually too focused on feeding than of the idea of creating another werewolf and passing on the gene. Like most shape-shifters they can be killed with silver...

"Did you find anything useful in Dad's journal?" Dean asked, his voice cutting through my concentration.

I was already trying to tune out the noise of the radio, Led Zeppelin of course, Dean's favourite band. The music was at a level that most people would find distracting even if they weren't focusing on a job. I hate how Dean always makes me do the research, but of course I would never be trustworthy enough to drive his precious car again after I drove it through a wall. In my defence it was necessary. If I hadn't sacrificed his windshield and tail light I probably would have died. And he wouldn't have been able to stop that ghost without my help. I mean shooting Casper in the face, what was he thinking.

"So?" Dean asked again. Always so impatient.

"Nothing we don't already know. All it says is how a human can become infected and how to kill one."

"Nothing about wolves the size of grizzly bears?"

"Zip, zilch, nada."

"Come on, Sam. Sound a little more enthusiastic about this. I mean werewolves are badass, we haven't seen one since we were kids. And a pack a werewolves, I mean that's almost unheard of."

"Okay, Sparky. And you know what, after we kill them, we can go to Disneyland."

"Shut up."

We sat in silence for a while, apart from the music. I stared out the window. In the reflection my skin shone pale next to the dark brown of my hair. I glanced over at Dean, my leather jacket wearing brother. After all these years he was still trying to dress like Dad, even now that Dad was gone. Dean always had so much respect for him. I guess he had to do the work of two kids on that front. Dull sunlight filtered through the window illuminating his face. He looked tired and drawn. Still not sleeping well, Dad's death has really shaken him up.

We were nearing Forks. Everything was slowly shifting into shades of green. Even the light filtered down greenly through the leaves of the thick canopy overhead. My prediction of rain, three hours ago while we were still in Seattle, had come to pass. The constant drizzle made objects look blurred around the edges. I could tell I was going to be bored in this town, but we had a good reason to be here. If we could find and hunt these werewolves we would save a lot of lives.

Already too many people in Seattle and Olympia had died. We managed to track the werewolf activity back to somewhere near Forks. Now the only thing we have to do is find them. It should be a hunter's dream. It's my nightmare.

Settling down for any length of time means I have to go back to school or people will get suspicious. It's alright for Dean he's twenty-one, too old for school. I'm not dumb, on the contrary I'm quite intelligent. It's just that school is so boring. I could be doing much better things with my time.

"Well, here we are." Dean's voice sounded distant, an insignificant noise in the background. I wrenched myself back to the present.

The house itself wasn't much to look at. Two stories, painted an off-white colour. However, it was right on the edge of town next to the forest – the perfect place to lure a werewolf – and it had nice big rooms. The only real problem with it was the one bathroom dilemma. I'd thought that for once, because we were living in a house rather than in a motel, we would have two bathrooms. Dean takes an hour to do his hair. But just like always we'll have to suck it up and get used to it. It would be better than living in a crappy motel room anyway.

I lugged my bags up to my new bedroom. Dean managed to get a fully furnished house, using credit card fraud of course, so I had a bed, desk and for some reason a rocking chair already in my room. I dumped the bag of clothes on the bed, put the duffel with a my sawed-off shotgun, PT-92 9mm handgun, flask of holy water, knife, container of salt and other essential hunting items in the closet and my laptop on the desk. At least this place has wireless internet. I put my clothes away frowning at the heavy winter jackets and shapeless cardigans that would make up the majority of my wardrobe from now on.

Dean ordered food from the one take-away store in town. It was disgusting. I'll have to start doing some cooking again. I haven't cooked a proper meal for years. After tea I went through some of the books we got from Bobby, a fellow hunter and an old acquaintance of our Dad. I say acquaintance because last time he and Dad worked together Bobby threatened to blast him full of buckshot, cocked the shotgun and everything. Thankfully he's softened slightly since then.

I didn't find anything useful and when my eyes started to droop around three in the morning I went to bed. I was starting school tomorrow, yippee. A total of three hundred and fifty seven new kids to meet. God, it's a small school. Some of the schools I've been to have had over two thousand students.

I woke up to a normal dull grey Forks morning. I hadn't slept well, the wind and rain kept me awake. It was still drizzling now. I got ready for school slowly, the start of a sure to be boring day. I had already taken my gun out and was about to slip it into the back of my jeans when I decided I probably wouldn't need it at school. I stowed it regretfully back in my duffel and sighed as I also put back the silver knife I had strapped to my lower leg. I felt naked without any weapons, but it probably wasn't a good idea to take them. It would be very hard to talk my way out of trouble if I got caught with a knife, let alone a gun at school.

I kicked Dean awake so he could get ready. He refused to let me buy a car, or steal one for that matter, and he wouldn't let me drive his so now I was going to be the freak whose older brother drives them around. It was only two miles to school but I was not walking in the rain every day.

Dean dropped me off outside the front office. As he drove away I could see people eyeing off his car. Personally I didn't see what was so special about it. I went into the office. The middle aged red haired secretary was wearing a purple t-shirt. I immediately felt overdressed. I was wearing my new, thick waterproof jacket and one of the hideous cardigans. "Excuse me, I'm Samantha Winchester," I informed her.

"Oh, of course," she said looking up from her magazine. I saw awareness light her eyes, she must have been expecting me. The shiny new toy in this tiny town. She dug through a precariously stacked pile of paper and withdrew a schedule and a map of the school. "I want you to get this slip signed by all your teachers," she said handing me the piece of paper, "return it at the end of the day." She gave me a warm smile and wished me good luck. I left the office without returning her smile and made my way slowly to English.

I gave the slip to the teacher, Mr. Mason. He sent me to a desk at the back without introducing me to the class. It was harder for my new classmates to stare at me in the back, but they still managed. I glared back at their inquisitive eyes until they got the message and turned away. I examined the reading list the teacher had given me. It was fairly basic: Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner. I had already studied most of the material, about a year and a half ago, at the last school I went to. I wish I'd kept my papers so I could've reused them, but too late now. I tried to remember the essays I'd written while the teacher droned on.

After the bell rang with a nasal buzzing sound, a gangly boy with skin problems and hair as black as an oil slick leaned across the aisle to talk to me.

"You're Samantha Winchester, aren't you?" I'd only enrolled to come here two weeks ago and already the teachers must have told everyone my name. Of course they told the class my name is Samantha. I hate the name Samantha.

"Sam," I corrected him. Everyone within a three-seat radius turned to watch the exchange.

"Where's your next class?" he asked.

I checked the schedule I had shoved in my bag. "Um, Government, with Jefferson, in building six."

There was nowhere to look without meeting curious eyes.

"I'm headed towards building four, I could show you the way..." He was definitely the over helpful type. "I'm Eric," he added

I changed the set of my face from a frown to somewhat of a half smile. "Thanks."

We headed out into the rain which had picked up in pace. A couple of people seemed to be walking close enough behind us to eavesdrop. I hoped I wasn't getting paranoid.

"So, is Forks a lot different than where you used to live?"

"Yeah," I racked my brains trying to think of a place we had been where I could pretend to come from. I decided on Phoenix. "I used to live in Phoenix."

"It doesn't rain much there does it?"

"A couple of times a year," I guessed hoping he wouldn't see through my bluff.

"Wow, what that must be like?" he wondered.

"Sunny," I replied.

"You don't look very tan."

"I'm part albino."

He studied my face apprehensively, and I sighed. Obviously clouds and a sense of humour do not mix. A couple of weeks of this and I'd forget how to use sarcasm. Truth is though, I did get the pale gene. Dean is very tan and so was Dad. Dad always used to say I looked exactly like Mum, only with dark hair. She was apparently pale too.

Eric walked me right up to the door of building six even though it was clearly marked.

"Well good luck," he said as I touched the door handle, "maybe we'll have some other classes together." He sounded hopeful.

I smiled at him vaguely and went inside.

The rest of the morning passed in about the same fashion. My Trigonometry teacher, Mr. Varner, was the only one who made me stand up and introduce myself. I stood up, said my name was Sam, repeated the Phoenix lie and sat straight back down. I didn't want to lie too much on my first day.

After the first few lessons I started to recognise some familiar faces in each class. There were always a few braver people who would come up and introduce themselves and ask me questions about how I liked Forks. I mainly lied. The truth was I found Forks really boring. There wasn't much to do here, not that I needed much to do. I should be focused on finding the werewolves. Once they were dead I would be able to get out of here.

One girl sat beside me in both Trig and Spanish. She walked with me to the cafeteria for lunch. She was tiny, a lot shorter than me and I'm only five foot six, but her wildly curly dark hair made up a lot of difference between our heights. I couldn't remember her name, and I couldn't be bothered asking, so I just let her prattle on about lessons and teachers while I tried to tune her out.

We sat at the end of a full table with a group of her friends. She introduced me, but I forget their names as soon as she spoke them. They seemed impressed that she had made friends with a surly stranger so quickly. The boy from English, Eric, waved at me from across the room.

I was sitting there, trying to make conversation with seven strangers, when I first saw them. They were sitting at the far end of the cafeteria, as far as possible from where I sat in the long room. There were five of them. They weren't talking, and they weren't eating, though they each had a tray of untouched food in front of them. I wasn't usually one to stare. I saw a wide variety of strange and scary things every day and I usually managed to hold my surprise in, but there was just something about these five strangers that was making me gawk at them like an idiot.

They didn't look anything alike. Of the three boys one of them was big, muscled like a serious weightlifter, with dark curly hair. Another was taller, leaner, but still muscular, and honey blond. The last was lanky, less bulky, with untidy, bronze-coloured hair. He was more boyish than the others, who looked like they could be in college, or even teachers here rather than students.

The girls were opposites. The tall one was statuesque. She had a beautiful figure, the kind models have, with just the right amount of curves so she didn't look anorexic. Her golden hair gently waved to the middle of her back. The short girl was pixie-like, thin in the extreme, with small features. Her hair was deep black, cropped short and pointing out in every direction.

And yet they were all exactly alike. Every one of them was pale, even paler than me. They must not go out in the sun, not that there was much sun in this rainy place. They all had very dark eyes, despite the range in hair tones. They also had dark shadows under those eyes, purplish, bruise like shadows. It looked like they were all suffering from a couple of sleepless nights, or almost done recovering from a broken nose. Though their noses, all their features, were straight, perfect and angular.

But none of these attributes were why I couldn't look away. I stared so intently at them because all of their faces were beautiful, gorgeous, but also familiar. I know I had never seen them before, I would have remembered such perfect beauty, but they reminded me of someone I had seen before. The memory, however, was just out of my reach.

They were all looking away, away from each other, away from the other students, away from anything in particular as far as I could tell. As I watched, the small girl rose with her tray containing an unbitten apple and unopened soda, and walked away with quick, graceful steps. I stared at her as she dumped her tray and walked out of the cafeteria. There was something familiar about the way she moved too, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I turned back to the others who still sat there, unchanged by the girl's absence.

"Who are they?" I asked the girl next to me whose name I couldn't remember.

She looked up to see who I meant, but probably already knowing from my tone. Suddenly he looked at her, the thinner boyish one. The youngest perhaps. He focussed on my neighbour for a fraction of a second and then his eyes flickered to mine.

He looked away quickly, I turned slower to look back at the girl from Spanish class. In that brief glance his face held nothing of interest. It was merely as if she had called his name and he'd looked up as an involuntary response, already having decided not to answer.

My neighbour giggled in embarrassment as she turned back and gave her attention to me.

"That's Edward and Emmett Cullen, and Jasper and Rosalie Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen, they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife." She said this under her breath.

Wow, big family, I thought. I glanced sideways at the beautiful boy, he was looking at his tray now, picking a bagel to pieces with long, pale fingers. His mouth was moving very quickly, his perfect lips barely opening. The other three still looked away, but I thought he must be speaking to them quietly.

They all had strange, unpopular names, names that would have suited the people who lived last century or maybe a millennia old demon. Maybe these were the names you were given when you lived in such a small town. I suddenly remembered that the girl next to me was called Jessica, a perfectly normal name. One of my old friends is called Jessica.

"They are ... very nice looking," I regretted the statement as soon as I said it. I really need to keep my thoughts to myself. I shouldn't even be worried about what they looked like, they were just five new people in a cafeteria full of strangers. I shouldn't even be giving them my attention, all too soon I would be moving on from this town and their perfect faces would soon be forgotten.

"Yes," Jessica agreed with a giggle that broke through my internal babble. "They're all together though, Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, I mean. And they live together. It's weird." Her voice held all the shock and condemnation of a small town, but as I thought about it I think anyone would find the situation strange if they didn't understand it.

"Which ones are the Cullens?" I asked. "They don't look related."

"Oh, they're not. Dr. Cullen is really young, like thirty or something. They're all adopted. The Hales are brother and sister; twins. They're the blondes, and they're foster children.

"Aren't they a little old for foster children?"

"They are now, Jasper and Rosalie are both eighteen, but they've been with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight. She's their aunt or something like that.

"That's really nice of them to take care of all those kids like that when they're so young." Personally I thought they were crazy. Seriously who would want to look after five teenagers when you're scarcely older than them yourselves? I have enough trouble looking after Dean, and he's meant to be the adult in our situation.

"I guess so," Jessica admitted reluctantly, "but I think Mrs. Cullen can't have kids though," she added as if that lessened the kindness. I got the impression that Jessica didn't like Dr. and Mrs. Cullen for some reason. With the glances that she was throwing their adopted children I would take a guess that the reason was jealousy.

Throughout our conversation my eyes flickered again and again to the table where the strange family sat. The continued to stare at the walls and not eat.

"Have they always lived in Forks," I asked. It seemed strange to me that such a beautiful family was so alone in the school. It must be their own choice, I don't think any door couldn't be opened by that amount of beauty.

"No," she said in a voice that implied the answer should be obvious. "They moved down here from somewhere in Alaska two years ago."

I suddenly felt sorry for them. Even if the distancing was their choice it was still sad that they were so unaccepted. They reminded me of myself and Dean. When we went to schools for a couple of weeks at a time when we were younger, people always thought we were a bit strange. Dean was usually better accepted than me, he knew how to sweet talk. I was always the weird kid with the black belt in karate and the knife collection, but I knew how to hide that side of me now. So hopefully I wouldn't be avoided at this school, considering I was going to be here for a while.

As I turned to examine the strange but beautiful family again, the youngest, one of the Cullens, looked up and met my gaze, this time with evident curiosity. As I looked swiftly away, it seemed to me that his glance held some kind of unmet expectation.

"Which one is the boy with the reddish-brown hair?" I asked. I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye. He was still staring at me, but not gawking like some of the other students had. He still had a slightly frustrated expression on his face, and that puzzled me. What did he have to be frustrated about?

"That's Edward, he's gorgeous of course," she replied, "but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him." She sniffed, a clear case of sour grapes. I wonder when he turned her down. I was curious why she had given me that information. I wasn't interested in dating him I was just wondering why the hell this stranger was staring so intently at me.

I glanced over at Edward again. He had turned away now but I could see that the side of his face was lifted up as if he was smiling at Jessica's comment. But that was stupid, as if he could have even heard what she had said from across the crowded, noisy cafeteria.

After a few more minutes the four of them left together. They were all noticeably graceful even the big brawny one. It was unsettling to watch. The one called Edward didn't look my way again.

I sat at the lunch table with Jessica and her friends longer than I would have if I'd been sitting alone. I didn't want to get in trouble by being late on my first day. I'd save the getting in trouble for later in the week. One of my new acquaintances, who reminded me her name was Angela, had Biology with me in the next hour. We walked to class in silence, she was shy.

When we entered the classroom, Angela went to sit at a black-topped lab table just like the ones they have in every school. She already had someone sitting at her desk. In fact all the tables were filled, except one. In the middle of the classroom I recognised Edward Cullen, by his unusual hair, sitting alone next to that one spare seat.

I examined him as I walked down the centre aisle to introduce myself to the teacher and get the slip signed. As I passed him, he suddenly went rigid in his seat. I watched as he sat there, poker straight, hands clenched into fists, tendons visible. Suddenly he looked at me. Only this time it wasn't merely a curious glance, it was a murderous glare. In that second I registered that his eyes were black, not demon black, but still very dark. My hand twitched behind me reaching for the gun that was not there, but I pulled myself together, he wasn't a demon, just a kid. I didn't need to shoot him even if I had my gun. I needed to calm down. Then I accidently walked into a desk. By watching him I hadn't been paying attention to where I was going.

I hurried up to the front of the class and gave Mr. Banner my slip. He gave me a book without bothering about introductions and I walked slowly to that one empty seat beside Edward Cullen. When I sat down I noticed that Edward shifted away from me, leaning as far as possible to the side without falling out of his chair. Seriously what was his problem, I know I didn't smell or anything like that. For one moment I considered taking my hair down to create some kind of barrier between us so I didn't have to watch him sitting rigidly in his chair. I thought better of it, I hate wearing my hair down and I'm not a wuss. I shouldn't care if he was shooting me furious glances, it was his problem not mine.

I tried to concentrate on the lecture Mr. Banner was giving, but it was on cellular anatomy, not the most interesting subject. I took as many notes as I could anyway, but some of my mind was still focussed on the fact that a stranger who I had never talked to, seemed to hate me. Not that it matters, I said to myself again. Really I have to stop caring what these small town nobody's think of me, it's not like I'm going to set up lasting relationships with any of them.

As the lesson drew to a close I glanced over at Edward again. He was still sitting in that same stiff position, hands clenched into fists, the tendons straining against his skin. He had the sleeves of his light coloured shirt pushed up, his arms were surprisingly muscular. He wasn't nearly as slight as he had looked next to his burly brother. His eyes focussed on some point at the front of the classroom, approximately a foot above the teacher's head. The whole time he had never relaxed. Again I found myself thinking what the hell is his problem?

This class seemed to drag on longer than the others. It was probably because my first day at school in nearly two years was almost over, but part of me thought it was because I was waiting for Edward to loosen his fist and move from his stiff position. He never did. He was sitting so still it looked like he wasn't breathing. Seriously, what was wrong with him? Was this his normal behaviour?

I decided I was going to confront him about his strange behaviour at the end of the lesson. If it was about me he was going to hear my displeasure, I might even throw in a few punches. I would like to have thoroughly deserved the hate he seemed to have for me. I really didn't want to gain an enemy on my first day, but I was too curious not to ask. My plan was foiled, however, as soon as the bell rang and Edward rose in one fluid motion and walked swiftly out of the classroom. He was gone before anyone else had even gotten out of their seats. My eyes narrowed as I stared after him, looking at the back of his tall figure as he hurried from the classroom. I rose more slowly.

Now it was time for gym, my most hated lesson. I don't really know why I hate gym. I'm always active when I'm hunting, it takes a lot of energy to fight off demons and other beings of the supernatural every other day, so I stay pretty fit. I guess it's because I'm not very good at ball sports, I haven't got very many co-ordination skills when it comes to any type of sports. It's strange because I'm excellent at fighting and hand to hand combat, I'm very accurate when it comes to shooting guns or throwing knives and I'm good at darts and pool. Just not sport.

"Aren't you Samantha Winchester?" a male voice asked as I was leaving the classroom.

I looked up to see a cute, baby-faced boy, his pale blond hair gelled carefully into orderly spikes, smiling at me in a friendly way.

"Sam," I corrected him, with a slight smile.

"I'm Mike."

"Hi, Mike."

"Do you need any help finding your next class?"

"I'm headed to gym actually, I think I can find it."

"That's my next class too." He seemed thrilled by this fact, though it wasn't much of a coincidence in a school this small.

We walked to class together; he was a chatterer so he supplied most of the conversation, which made it easy for me because I didn't really have to pay close attention. I heard him say something about living in California until he was ten; I wondered why he moved here if he loved the sun so much. This must be one of the rainiest places in the world. He was, however, the nicest person I had met today.

But as we were entering the gym, he asked, "So, did you stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what? I've never seen him act like that."

Hmm, stabbing him with a pencil wasn't a bad idea. At least then I might have deserved the glares. Instead of admitting this to Mike I decided to feign ignorance.

"Was that the boy I sat next to in Biology?"

"Yes," he said, "he looked like he was in pain or something."

"I don't know what was up. I never even spoke to him."

"He's a weird guy." Mike lingered by me instead of heading to the dressing rooms. "If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you."

I smiled timidly at him again before heading to the girls' locker room. I seemed to have already attracted some unwanted male attention. I didn't really want to have a relationship with anyone here. I was sick of getting involved with people and then having to break it off a couple of weeks later. I didn't like breaking hearts, though somehow it seemed to happen a lot. Relationships also brought back memories of Daniel. Memories I wanted to bury.

The gym teacher, Coach Clapp, found me a uniform but didn't make me dress down for today's class. I was glad, as I watched four volleyball games running simultaneously, that I was not playing too. I remembered that the last time I played volleyball I ended up knocking somebody out with my serve, and they were on my team.

The final bell rang at last. I went to the office to return my paperwork. The rain had drifted away, but the wind was stronger and colder. Even with my thick jacket on I still had to wrap my arms around myself to keep warm.

I walked into the office and froze midstep. Edward Cullen stood at the desk in front of me. I recognised him by his tousled bronze hair. He didn't appear to notice the sound of my entrance. I leaned against the back wall waiting for the receptionist to be free.

He was arguing with her in a low, attractive voice. I quickly picked up the gist of the argument. He was trying to change from sixth-hour Biology to another lesson, any other lesson.

This couldn't be about me. Something must have happened before I entered the Biology room. The frustrated look on his face must be about another aggravation entirely. It couldn't be anything to do with me. The guy didn't even know me.

The door opened again, cold wind gusted through the room, rustling papers on the desk, swirling loose tendrils of my hair around my face. The girl who came in merely stepped up to the desk, placed a note in the wire basket, and walked out again. But in that instant Edward's back stiffened, his hands snapped into fists and he turned slowly to glare at me with piercing hate-filled eyes. For some reason I felt a thrill of fear send a shiver down my spine. The words 'if looks could kill' suddenly ran through my mind and I knew in that moment that his need to change classes was all about me. I just didn't know why. I also couldn't figure out why his stare could trigger such fear in me. I'm a hunter, I shouldn't, no I couldn't, be afraid of anything. One moment of hesitation in my job could cost me my life. But there was just something about this guy that I found totally unsettling. Again I had the feeling that I had experienced this stare, his eyes before. But I knew that was impossible.

His eyes locked with mine for only a second before he turned back to the receptionist. "Never mind then," he said hastily in a voice like velvet, "I can see that it's not possible. Thank you so much for your help." He turned on his heel without another look at me and disappeared out the door.

I stepped up to the front desk, my face white, and handed the receptionist my signed slip.

"How did your first day go, dear?" the receptionist asked me brightly.

"Fine," I lied. She didn't look convinced.

I mulled over what had happened today as I walked to the parking lot. I came up with only one conclusion to explain it. Edward Cullen was just plain weird. I spotted Dean's car at the far end of the now almost empty parking lot. I walked quickly toward it, but my path was blocked by a few boys who must have stayed behind just to admire the car.

"It's a Chevy Impala, the 1967 model." I heard Dean say to the boys.

I gave him a glare as I pushed through the group and got into the car. He got in quickly after me, knowing from my look that I wasn't in the mood stick around and listen to him talk about his car to a bunch of idiot boys.

We drove for a while in silence before Dean asked how my day was. I lied again, this time I was more successful, he didn't pick up that my first day had been far from fine.