Supernatural-chapter one-The Phoenix

A/n: Hello all! Welcome to my very first supernatural fanfiction. I became obsessed with Supernatural only a very short time ago, but when I say obsessed, I mean the word. I'm admittedly only up to season 3, but I'm zooming through the show like crazy. Like before I even get through with one season, I'm on Amazon ordering the next. So! This story will follow the episodes, not exactly mind you, and I will of course be adding twists to them, but that'll come later. I would love for this to be an interactive experience, so although it's not a reader x supernatural style of reading, I still want my audience to be able to submerge themselves within the story. Also, I don't know if this story will have romance in it or not. As of now, the character has a brother sister relationship ONLY with the brothers. Romance might come later if it feels natural, but I won't force it.

So! Without further ado, and any more rambling from me, let the story begin…

(the song used in the beginning of this chapter is called The Phoenix by Fall Out Boy. I recommend listening to it while you read ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Put on your war paint.

You are a brick tied to me that's dragging me down..

Strike a match and I'll burn you to the ground.

We are the jack-o-lanterns in July, setting fire to the sky

He-here comes this rising tide. So come on.

Put on your war paint.

Jab. jab. High kick. Low kick. Right swing.

Small puffs of air escaped me as I danced around the black punching bag suspended by the heavy beam in the middle of the room. The music blasted through my ears, the bumping beat adding even more of a spark to the fire that I was feeling.

So we can take the world back from the heart-attacked

One maniac at a time we will take it back.

I didn't take notice of the sweat now pouring off of my body. I was focusing all of my attention on taking down the "enemy" in front of me. My heart was beating a tango in my chest, and I could almost feel the hot blood moving through my body, heating me up even more.

You know time crawls on when you're waiting for the song to start, so dance along to the beat of your heart…

Low kick. High kick. Left hook. Right hook. Knee strike.

Hey young blood, doesn't it feel, like our time is running out.

I'm gonna change you like a remix,

Then I'll raise you like a phoenix.

Screams. The screams were so loud in my head now.

Burning. I could smell the black smoke surrounding me. I could almost feel it clinging to my skin, drifting down my throat, making it sting with soreness.

Three jabs. Uppercut. Left swing. Right swing. I didn't notice the sweat dripping into my eyes, making them sting.

Roaring flames.

Tortured begging. Black smoke.

A woman's voice begging.

A child praying.

Wearing our vintage misery, no I think it looks a little better on me.

I'm gonna change you like a remix,

Then I'll raise you like a phoenix.

Crack

"Ah! Son of a bitch!" Sharp pains pulsed throughout my right wrist, running from my wrist all the way to my elbow. Ignoring the strong urge to jump around and curse, I instead chose to reach towards the bag, stopping its previous momentum before it smacked me in the face. I looked down at my hands, cringing at the new bruises and small cuts littering them. That's what I got for not using gloves.

I grabbed the towel I had thrown on the floor beside the bag before hand, wiping my face down. I placed the towel on my shoulder and walked over to the counter where I threw the rest of my shit on. I took a big gulp of water, enjoying its coolness; the cold water also served to take away the remnants of the phantom burning in my throat. I drank till it was halfway empty and placed it back on the counter. I opened the drawer below the counter, or as Dean liked to call it my, "you're an idiot," drawer. It held a variety of tools to patch up wounds, ranging from supplies used to patch up a knife wound, all the way to my Finding Nemo band-aids. Don't judge.

Dean himself had first stocked the drawer when I moved in to this place. He stuffed as many supplies as he could into the space, turned to me and stated, and I quote, "If you don't use this shit I'll come over here and teach you how to use it."

The warning threat might've seemed weak to any one else, but those that knew Dean knew his threats were more of a promise. I cringed now, thinking of Dean's patchwork skills. Don't get me wrong, the man was efficient, no doubt about that. He got the job done; he just wasn't exactly gentle about it. I definitely preferred Doctor Sam's work.

Taking out some bandages, I started wrapping my right wrist, hissing slightly when I moved it too roughly. I made sure that it was properly secured, then grabbed some Neosporin and doctored up the tiny cuts on my hands. When I was done, I turned around, leaning my back against the counter. My stomach grumbled and I sighed. I've gotta get some shopping done later. I hated shopping. It was so boring.

I'm a dead man walkin here, but that's the least of all my fears..

I jumped, not expecting the loud noise. I forgot that I put my phone on loud before I started working out, per Dean's request of course. When he realized that I worked out with my music usually turned all the way up, he freaked, saying that I was "stupid vulnerable." He of course at that pointed ordered me not to do so any more, and also made me make sure my volume was always turned up on my phone so I would hear his calls. I agreed to get him off of my back, and then as soon as he drove away, I turned my music up as far as it would go without bursting the speakers.

Dean wasn't the damn boss of me.

I recognized the familiar ringtone and rolled my eyes, not even looking to see who it was before answering. "Yes, Dean," I sighed.

"Graycie!" He barked through the phone. "What the hell did I tell you about answering your phone?"

I cringed and pulled the phone away from my ear, probably saving my poor eardrums from rupturing. "Dean stop yellin at me! And what the hell are you talkin about? I answered your damn call."

"I called you three times already!" he retorted.

"No you didn't."

"Yeah, I fuckin' did. You.." he paused suddenly. "You been turning your damn music up again?"

I hesitated, giving him his answer. "Damn it, Graycie," he groaned. "I told you.."

"Yeah, Dean I know," I interrupted. "I just didn't sleep very well last night and I needed a work out. The music pumps me up. I'm sorry," I finished, sounding like a sulking child now.

He sighed. "Yeah I know kid. Just be careful with that." I smiled; he could never stay aggravated with me.

"Look," he started again. "I'm on the way to you right now. We're gonna take a little road trip." I perked up, my interest betraying me.

"Where we goin?"

"California," he answered shortly.

"What the hell's in Californ.." Realization hit and I sighed. "Dean…"

"Graycie, don't start. We need his help. Dad's been missing for a while and I think he needs to be a part of the search party."

"Dean what if he doesn't even want to come." "He'll come," he retorted.

I sighed once more. I always did a lot of that when Dean was involved. "Yeah okay. Lemme get my shit together."

"I'll be there in fifteen," he said. "I'll be here," I answered back before hanging up.

Looking around the room again, I hurriedly grabbed all of my stuff, stuffing everything into my bag. I ran to the shower, jumping in and merely washing the sweat off of me, taking care I didn't get my bandage wet. After about five minutes, I got out, drying my body off. I wrapped a towel around me and walked into my room. changed into a pair of ripped jeans and my favorite black hoodie, and decided to leave my curly blonde hair down. It was always a bitch to mess with if I put it up wet. I slipped on my signature black converse, and looked in the mirror one final time. I noticed that my cross necklace was a little whacked out and righted it. It was my mom's necklace; I found it when I was going through her stuff after she died, and quickly claimed it for my own. I felt like she was with me when I wore it, which was all the time. I couldn't remember the last time I'd taken it off.

I peered at myself in the mirror for a while, cursing at the dark circles under my eyes. Dean would definitely notice those. My light blue eyes were a little more dull than usual due to lack of sleep, but my cheeks were still their natural rosey color. I'd always been told I looked like like a little cherub angel, with my round cheeks and the blush that never really went away. My skin tone balanced between a peachy color, and a "how often do you step outside" shade. It wasn't that I didn't go outside..I wasn't exactly one for the outdoors but I did go outside. My skin just couldn't absorb sunlight; it was ridiculously hard for me to get a tan. Unlike Sam and Dean who's skin seemed to turn darker as soon as they stepped outside for fifteen minutes, when I did go outside, I burned, and the skin merely turned white again when it healed. They always made fun of me for it. My hair was a dirty blondish color; it was thick, and curly and hung a little below my shoulder blades.

I was also what I liked to refer to as height challenged. Compared to Sam's towering 6″4 frame and Dean's 6″, my 5″2 made me look and feel like a damn toddler between the two of them.

All in all, I didn't look very menacing. Because of that, people were always surprised when I fought. Along with a few karate classes I took when I was younger, I'd been taught to fight by hunters. John himself taught me how to keep up with the best of them, and I did. I promised myself a long time ago I would never be a damsel in distress. That didn't keep the three of them from being overbearing of course. I was the youngest out of the crew, being 2 years younger than Sammy, and also the only girl. I was a little..sheltered growing up between the three of them. John and Dean always liked to keep me and Sammy hidden away from the hunting lifestyle. When Sammy learned about it, the hypocrite turned around and did the very same thing to me that had pissed him off so much when his dad and Dean did it. I knew about hunting of course, but they would never let me be a part of it; that became impossible though when my dad died, and I moved in with the Winchester family for good. I had pretty much lived with them anyway, since my dad was always off hunting, so it wasn't that big of a change.

Before my dad died, John was already an adoptive dad of sorts. I think it was a hunter thing. An agreement of sorts, to watch out for each others kids when they're gone. When dad died, John became even more of a father to me. His death was pretty traumatic for me, and along with Dean and Sam, he helped me to heal and push the pain behind me. Dad's death also caused them to realize that I was a part of the hunter's life as much as they were, and they reluctantly began to teach me to fight and shoot a gun. I picked it up pretty damn quickly, proving to them even more that being a hunter was in my blood.

I grabbed my backpack and threw my clothes in along with other necessities. I did a final check to make sure I had everything, and sighed looking around at the place I'd called home for the last five months. The place was admittedly more of a warehouse than anything else, but I'd gotten it for dirt cheap after calling in a favor from a guy me, Dean, and John, had helped out a while back. He was of course more than eager to help me out, and he even threw in the punching bag, which I've obviously been thankful for.

Something in me knew there was a good chance I'd never be coming back to this place, and while a part of me was sad for that fact, the other part felt resigned. A hunter's life was never stagnant; you didn't stay in one place for long. I knew I wouldn't be able to stay here forever when I moved in. Hell, I was surprised it lasted as long as it did.

I heard Baby pull up outside, and grabbed my keys from the counter. I stepped out and locked the place behind me one final time. Hearing a car door shut behind me, I turned around and grinned at Dean. I met him in the middle between the house and his car, and he grabbed me in a fierce hug, cramming my face into his chest; my head only came up to about a third of it. I breathed in his scent of whisky and leather; it had always been comforting to me.

"Missed you kid," he greeted. I laughed, but hugged him back just as tight. "Dean you just saw me a couple weeks ago."

"So? I'm not allowed to miss my little sister?" he answered, I could hear the grin in his voice. I pulled away from him, scowling as he ruffled my hair. I just fixed it! "Course you're allowed to miss me stupid. Just didn't think you'd turn into such a pansy in the short amount of time I was gone," I joked, smirking at him.

He glared at me playfully, reaching out to pinch my side. I yelped, jerking away from him. "Idiot," I smarted off, rubbing the soreness away. "Pipsqueak."

I rolled my eyes at the familiar nickname and punched his arm. I walked past him and jumped into Baby, hearing him laugh. He got in and turned it on, the familiar rumble soothing me. I leaned the seat back immediately and he laughed. "You know that's Sammy's seat kid."

I huffed. "Psh. Well Sammy's not here right now. So it's mine. And he'll get in the back if he knows what's good for him."

He barked out a laugh and pulled away from the curb. I looked back at the house one final time, trying to commit it to memory. I glanced at Dean out of the corner of my eye, smiling when he cranked up his Metallica soundtrack. Maybe a little road trip is just what I need right now.

A/n: Alright guys! This is it! the first chapter! tell me what you think and where you think I should go with it! next chapter starts up the show of course. Tell me about any twists you want added to it. Also, please review! It really does make my day!

batman out.