Title: Broken Roads
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Family/Supernatural/Adventure/Drama
Rating: PG-13/Teen
Summary: (sisfic)-When Rebecca Winchester's father goes missing, she and her older brother Dean are forced into an awkward reunion with the younger sibling that abandoned the family years ago.
Warnings:
Language, innuendo, minor violence. If there are any triggers related to a specific chapter, I'll post a warning at the beginning. If I list something that triggers you, feel free to contact me and we can talk about it. If you really don't feel comfortable reading it, let me know and I can give you a summary of what happens/edited version so that you can understand the story.
Disclaimer: I don't own SPN, nor am I claiming to. The rights to the show go to people of a greater power. I am making no profit off of this project and it is for entertainment purposes only. Please don't sue me I already have to deal with student loans.
Opening Author's Notes: Hiya, everyone. This is my first time writing for the SPN fandom, but I've been reading fic here for years. I always kind of felt like the show was lacking a constant female character so I decided to look into sisfics. I found a LOT of amazing ones and I wanted in on the action. And so, Broken Roads was born.

Anyways, welcome to Broken Roads, which is a sisfic about Rebecca (Bex) Winchester, who is Sam's (older) twin and Dean's younger sister. Obviously. In my head, she looks like Tatiana Maslany. In your head she looks like whoever you want, it's your brain.

I'm not going to give too much info out right now since it'll be revealed gradually. Or, if you're impatient and want to know a lot about her right this second, head over to Bex-winchester-broken-roads dot tumblr dot com and check out the cast page.

Also about the blog, I'll be posting manips (they may suck though since I'm kind of new to this whole Photoshop thing), answering questions, and also giving info on the ships for this fic. There are spoilers on the blog. I'll try to put them under the cut but there are no guarantees.

This story mostly follows canon for seasons 1, 2, and some of 3, but after that it'll go in a completely different direction that gives minor characters bigger roles and maybe puts people together that weren't on the show. So fear not, it won't just be my OC stealing lines from CC's mouth. She'll have her own storylines and a separate fate.

Thank you to comealongpixie for editing this and January Lily for giving me her opinion. Both of them are writing some pretty kickass sisfics and I recommend that you check them out.

One last thing—I plan on writing the whole series and I've got a lot planned, but sometimes updates can take a while because my muse is fickle, I'm in grad school and for some reason I thought taking five classes was a good idea, and I have a part time job. So hopefully you can stay with me through the breaks.

On that note, happy reading and make sure to leave a review on your way out!

"Home is where my habits have habitat" –Fiona Apple

Chapter 1: Home Again

October 31, 2005

Rebecca Winchester blinked her eyes open and caught sight of a street sign just before her brother's Impala whizzed by it. 70 miles to Stanford.

She dismissed it for a moment, closing her eyes and returning to sleep. And then she realized what, exactly, Stanford meant. Bex sat up so abruptly that she knocked her journal off of her lap. It settled on the floor of the car with a thud.

Dean, her brother, had promised a case, but because of all the crap with their dad going missing, Bex wouldn't be surprised to learn that he was planning on involving her twin. Their brother. The one that had abandoned the family. The brother that had left them for normalcy.

Life as a Winchester wasn't…typical.

It had been. It almost was. Until Mary Winchester died.

Bex and Sam had been only six months old. Sam was a strong, healthy baby while Bex was in the hospital with a lung problem. John was supposed to be with her, relieving Mary from her shift, but he'd fallen asleep before leaving.

It had been a demon. Mary was pinned to the ceiling in the nursery with a slice through her stomach. And then she had been set on fire.

Ever since that night, John had been obsessed with finding the thing that killed her. Town to town, school to school, there was no constant in any of the Winchester's lives besides each other. It was the only life Bex had known, yet deep down, she had always desired something else. Something simpler. Something else to depend on.

And although Sam was always the black sheep—he fought with dad constantly and chose studying over hunting any day—Bex never expected that he would up and leave one day.

She could still remember when he got that email informing him that he'd been accepted to Stanford on a full scholarship. He'd confided in Bex first, and she had tried to be happy for him, but she found herself only half-heartedly congratulating him. When Sam told John the news, Bex had mostly expected John's disapproval to cause Sam to stay with them.

Instead, Sam had left the door open, and his family just stared out into the night for a bit while they recovered from the shock. John had eventually moved forward to close it while Dean pursed his lips and Bex bit her lip to keep from sobbing.

What was the sinking feeling in her gut? Abandonment, she told herself, Over and over, she tried to tell herself that it was just because she didn't want to be lonely. But in the back of her mind, there was a voice that shrieked "jealousy" louder than any of the others. It made her sick. It kept her awake at night, just another reminder that she would never be normal.

Normal. That sounded nice. If Bex had given a crap in school then maybe she could have gone off to college too. Maybe she wouldn't have been stuck with a gun always in her hand as she followed Dean from town to town. Maybe.

"Where are we going?" she asked, hoping that she had been wrong. A confrontation with Sam wasn't what she needed. Bex frowned at the stereo, avoiding eye contact. Besides, Dean had been listening to this album for three days nonstop and it was becoming a pain in the ass.

"Stanford," Dean replied easily.

"Why?" she asked again. She looked up from the stereo and glued her gaze on the horizon.

"To see Sam."

Dammit. Bex sat silently for a few moments, blinking at the clouds hanging in the sky disdainfully. She and Dean had been doing just fine together. "Why?"

"Because Dad hasn't picked up his goddamn phone in three weeks and I want to figure out what the voicemail meant." Oh yeah. The voicemail. John had called the day before leaving a really bizarre message. When Bex slowed it down, it got even weirder—someone on the tape kept saying I can never go home, which was creepy enough as is, but paired with the first voicemail in three weeks? Even stranger.

"Why do we need help?" Bex whined childishly. She was being stupid and she knew it, but she wasn't looking forward to an awkward family reunion of any form. She wasn't looking forward to seeing just how fantastic Sam's life was. She didn't want to see—

Everything you wanted.

No. No. That was stupid. She just didn't want to—

See everything you could have had. If you'd only tried.

No. She just didn't want to talk to him. That was it.

Bex tried to block the taunts from seeping into the front of her mind, but they still called out, rather loudly, you only have yourself to blame.

Dean interrupted her frustrated internal conflict. "C'mon, Bex. Doesn't this strike you as a little odd? The strange voicemail, the ignoring calls for three weeks?"

"I'm pretty sure he's just at a bar somewhere. Or maybe he's on a hunt where there's no cell reception."

That was also stupid. John never went hunting without cell reception. As oblivious as he was to his children's needs, he liked to be somewhat available if they needed him.

"Okay, fine," she said, giving up. "Maybe there's something going on here. But it has to be something we could figure out ourselves," she protested.

"Well, Sam's dad's kid too."

"He didn't seem too apologetic when he left," Bex snapped. Right after the words came out of her mouth, a lead-like feeling settled in the bottom of her stomach. You're jealous, that nasty voice reminded her. No. No, she was still just stung by his desertion. She just didn't want to be stuck with John, who never really spared her attention except to tell her to adjust her footing when she shot. She just wanted her friend back.

You don't want him to be happy, she accused herself. You want him to be stuck in the life, just like you.

You need his help.

"Fine," Bex snapped unexpectedly. "Fine. You're right. We need Sam."

Dean smirked triumphantly and Bex couldn't help but roll her eyes. Her aggravation at the mixed emotions she felt was making her brother seem like even more of an egotistical dick than usual.

The rest of the drive was spent in silence. Bex tried to think about the last positive memory she had with Sam. Probably during their sophomore year of high school—that was…what…seven years ago? Bex was still scrounging up straight B pluses. Junior year though, she started missing classes and failing exams, and by the end, she'd already made the decision to drop out, just as Sam made the decision to keep going after high school.

The lack of interest on Bex's part played a large part in dividing the twins. Sam tried to tutor her a few times but Bex hadn't wanted to put in the effort. Small comments about intelligence spiraled into huge fights that lasted for days. They wouldn't speak to each other. They wouldn't eat at the same time. They would refuse to share a motel bed.

Fights became so frequent that they eventually wouldn't look at each other. It would be easier to make a list of the days they spent getting along than arguing, until that day when Sam up and left. And that was that.

Bex was overwhelmed at the sudden flood of memories with Sam. Weekends with Bobby while John was out hunting, killing their first spirit when they were twelve, playing cards in the Impala with Dean. Playing hide and seek in the small hotel rooms—she liked to climb everywhere, thin and nimble, but Sam was smart enough to figure her out. How on their birthdays, Dean would cut whichever dessert they were sharing in half and Sam would let her choose which side she wanted.

A dreamy smile tugged at the edges of her lips as she lost herself in memories of a better time.

Dean never really cared for speed limits, so an hour later, they arrived in front of Sam's apartment.

"Stay here," Dean ordered, to which Bex had no objections. She crawled into the backseat and sprawled across uncomfortably. Part of the door was digging into the back of her neck and her knees were bent to the point where it felt like her whole leg was going to become dislocated. She pulled her brown hair out of its ponytail and tried to use it to cushion her neck.

What had the voicemail from John meant?

I can never go home.

Bex laughed bitterly. "At least you have a home," she said out loud. "All I have is this car." She paused. "Well, I guess that's not really fair. It's a nice car."

She grunted in frustration and blew out a breath. The action caused her lips to vibrate, resulting in horse sounds.

I can never go home.

I can never go home.

I can never go home.

Home.

Her fingers immediately fell to neck. Buried underneath her layers of clothing was a piece of cloth tied in a knot around a metal chain. The cloth had belonged to the nightgown she was wearing. The last one mom had ever bought, the last one she wore at home.

Dean used to tell her about home. What he remembered, at least. He recounted tales of Mary. Of mom. Of times when John dropped him off at preschool and Mary packed his lunch. He described what vague memories he had of finding out about Bex and Sam.

But anytime Bex asked about Mary specifically, the first thing that Dean said was that she told him stories about angels. Guardians that protected him while he slept.

Ha. Considering everything that had happened, Bex had very little faith in the existence of angels.

Angels. Sprits. The voicemail. Focus, she chided herself, running her fingers up and down the portion of the chain resting on the back of her neck.

Okay. The last time the two of them saw John was before they headed down to New Orleans to take care of some voodoo stuff. Dean had received the voicemail right after burning the body, which meant that John could be anywhere by now.

Dean didn't have enough patience or energy to drive up and down every road in America, so they were going to have to do actual detective work.

Speaking of Dean, how long was he going to take with all of this? Bex shuffled around and lifted her arm up to check her watch. He'd been gone for a while.

She sat up and opened the car door. She stepped out of the car and straightened up before tugging her grey tank top down over the rim of her jeans. She pulled the flannel shirt from around her waist and slipped it on to guard her against the cool night air. A breeze hit her face and she flinched against it. Goddammit. It was cold.

Bex headed towards the door to Sam's apartment and knocked. Nobody came to answer so she sighed and dug a bobby pin out of her hair. Bex almost never did anything with her hair, but she usually carried bobby pins because they were inconspicuous and helpful when picking locks. The most styling she'd do otherwise was put her hair in a ponytail, or if the brown mess was really bothering her, a braid.

After a short amount of jiggling the metal piece around in the lock, Bex pushed open the door and found Sam sitting on top of Dean with his knees on either side of Dean's head. "What the hell?" she interrupted.

Sam looked over at her before standing up and helping Dean to his feet. Ever the gentleman, even after fighting. "Becca?"

At the same time, Dean asked, "Didn't I tell you to stay in the car?"

"Well excuse me but you were taking forever," she retorted. Bex stepped closer to her brothers.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" Sam asked.

"I was looking for a beer," Dean quipped. Bex socked him in the shoulder. That was probably uncalled for. "Ow," he grunted, rubbing the spot and glaring.

"Sorry," she mumbled, only half-apologetically. She turned to Sam. "We need to talk."

Sam gave her a weird look. "The phone?" He gestured towards the device. Wow. A home phone. That shouldn't have been such a big deal, but…wow. He had a home phone. Did he have return addresses on labels as well? Maybe he'd thrown a housewarming party with all of his friends and they'd…had appetizers or something.

"Would you have picked up?" Dean retorted when Bex didn't say anything.

"Sam?" an unfamiliar voice asked. All three Winchesters turned to the source—a blonde in a tight Smurfs tee shirt. Dean gave her a once over, to which Bex rolled her eyes.

"Jess. Hey. Dean, Becca, this is my girlfriend, Jessica," Sam introduced.

Jess squinted at the two of them and Bex waved awkwardly. She was unsure of how else to introduce herself. Hi, I'm Sam's sister. I just broke in. Don't mind me. Glancing around, she noticed that there were photos of the two of them all over the apartment. They lived together.

"Your siblings?"

"Yeah," Bex replied, smiling much too largely to be natural. Her forced grin was hurting her cheeks and probably giving off serial-killer-vibes.

Dean, meanwhile, stepped closer. "Oh, I love the Smurfs." Then, he switched gears completely. "You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league." Bex stepped forward and kicked the back of Dean's knee. He turned and stared, what the hell painted on his features. Unbelievable. This could be his sister-in-law at some point and he was shamelessly flirting with her.

Woah. Sister-in-law? That was ridiculous. They weren't getting married. Sure, they had a house phone. And an apartment. Plus she knew he had siblings but that didn't mean anything, did it?

Jesus. She was in denial.

"Stop," Bex muttered through gritted teeth.

Looking uncomfortable, Jess pointed behind her. "Just let me put something on."

"No, no, no. I wouldn't dream of it, seriously," Dean continued smoothly. Bex reached out with her foot again and kicked out Dean's other knee. He elbowed her in the ribs and she stumbled to the side. Bex had to fight the urge not to sock him in the eye even though all chances of looking sane were probably flying out the window.

"Sorry about my brother. Uh, well, we need to borrow Sam for a second, so…yeah. It was really nice meeting you, though," Bex stumbled.

"No," Sam piped up suddenly. "No. Whatever you want to say, you can say in front of her."

"You're making this hard, Sam," she mumbled with frustration. "Dad hasn't been home in a while."

Her twin rolled his eyes and retorted, "So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

"Uh, Dean?" Bex asked, turning to her brother with her hands on her hips.

Dean seemed kind of annoyed by the fact that she was making him do all the difficult stuff. He looked down and then back up. "Dad's on a hunting trip and he hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam flinched the tiniest bit, but he did a good job of masking it. "Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."

Bex swung the door open and let her brothers out first. "Sorry. This'll just be a second," she promised Jess.

She shut the door and ran to catch up with her brothers. "I mean, come on. You can't just break in in middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you," Sam was saying. That was probably a good point.

"You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I need you to help me find him," Dean fired back.

"Sam," Bex spoke quietly as she tried to play peacemaker, "you're missing the point."

"You're going along with this too?" Sam asked, incredulous. "After all the crap he put us through? When I was scared of the thing in the closet, he gave me a .45!"

Okay, so yeah, he had a point—John wasn't an A plus parent—but despite all that, Bex needed to make sure that her father was okay. If not for his sake, for her own—if he'd been hurt or worse, the thing might want to come after them too. "What was he supposed to do?" Dean snapped.

Sam glared at him. "I don't know; maybe tell me not to be afraid of the dark!"

Dean stared at him incredulously, trying to figure out if Sam was bullcrapping him or what. "Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there."

"I was nine years old!" Sam shouted back. By then, they had begun the trek across the parking lot.

All chances of peace had flown out the window. "Sam!" Bex barked. "Stop yelling. Both of you, stop yelling. Dad's missing, Sam. This is important. We need to find him." Sam gave her the bitchiest face Bex had ever seen, possibly the entire world had ever seen, and closed his eyes like he was trying to calm down. Maybe giving orders was a bad idea. She started listing off facts instead. "Our old man's a dick. I know that. But Sam…this has gotten weird. We need to figure it out. I mean—Dean. Show him the voicemail."

"M'kay." Dean opened up the trunk of the Impala and shuffled some stuff around. "Now where did I put that thing…ahah!"

He lifted it up triumphantly and hit play.

John's muffled voice spurted erratic strings of words out of the speaker. "Dean….Bex… something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful. We're all in danger."

Sam looked at Dean. "You know there's an EVP on that, right?"

"Just like riding a bike, isn't it, Sammy?" Dean asked, beaming proudly. "When Bex slowed it down…"

The eerie voice made itself clear again. I can never go home.

"I can never go home," Sam repeated, as though saying it again would make everything clear. "Where was he?"

"Jericho, California," Bex replied.

"Two-lane blacktop," Dean elaborated.

"About a month ago, there was this guy that went missing." Bex handed a printout from the Jericho Herald to Sam. Across the top of the page read "Centennial Highway Disappearance."

Her twin looked it over before glancing up. "I don't know, guys. Maybe he was just kidnapped."

"But wait, there's more," Bex added, holding up a finger. "There was another one in April. December of 2004, one in 2003, 1998, another in 1992..."

"Ten in the past twenty years," Dean summed up.

"I see you've done your research," Sam commented. To Bex's surprise, he seemed mildly impressed. Which was validating, considering the value Sam put on anything vaguely academic.

"Someone had to. After you left," Bex said. "But…seriously. This sounds like a case, doesn't it?"

Sam looked reluctant to answer, so Dean began talking. "Sammy, in almost two years, we've never bothered you. Never asked you for a damn thing. Just this once, man."

Bex looked up at her brother with wide, pleading eyes as she silently begged him to agree.

After a few moments of torturous silence, Sam nodded. "Fine. I'll go. I'll help find him."

Bex grinned up at Sam unexpectedly, once again remembering how absurdly overgrown he was.

"Oh, and, shotgun," Sam added. Bex's grin turned into a scowl and she shook her head.

"No way, buddy. You can't just expect me to hop into the backseat because you are here. You sit in the back."

"I'm taller!" Sam argued.

"I was here first," Bex threw back.

"Not true!" Sam protested. "I rode in the car before you did."

"I was on the planet first," Bex spat.

The twins glared at each other, waiting for the other to back down, when in perfect unison, they threw out their hands.

"Rock, paper, scissors," they chanted. Both came up with scissors. "Rock, paper, scissors," they repeated again. Bex held out her fist, but Sam topped it with his open palm.

"I hate you," Bex growled.

Sam laughed a little. "I have to go pack a bag. I'll be back in five minutes." He began to head off before turning around to add, "Oh. But I also have to be back by Monday."

"What's Monday?" Dean asked.

"I have an interview," Sam replied cryptically.

"Job interview?" Bex asked. Geez. What was next? White picket fence? Two point five kids? Volunteering at school barbeques and father-daughter dances?

Don't get ahead of yourself.

"Skip it," Dean supplied.

Sam looked unamused. "Law school, actually."

Bex pressed her lips together at the sudden reminder of how much things had changed. After the easy banter with Sam, she had felt like maybe things were going to be okay. Now? She wasn't sure. But, she reminded herself, it's only until Monday. She would survive until then.

She crawled into the backseat of the car and slammed the door behind her. She needed her journal now.

Leaning into the front seat, she stretched her arm forward and picked up the battered book. The rough cover felt familiar in her hands as she sat back.

Once she was settled in, Bex pulled her knees up to her chest and placed her leather journal on her lap.

Hunters having a journal wasn't uncommon. Most of them did. While Bex had intended for the journal to be more notes on different monsters, it had become more of a way to vent over time, something to talk to. Eventually, the entries had morphed into letters. To her mom. For a while, they were letters to God, but God did a pretty crappy job actually doing anything so she gave up hope of anything out there and resumed her letters to Mary.

As the opened the journal, she took the time to turn the pages rather than the usual frantic slapping through them to write down information before she forgot. The pages were dirty from constantly being tossed around, some of the ink was smeared due to water damage, and her handwriting was impossibly messy. But that wasn't really important.

Bex leaned over and plucked a pen off of the floor before beginning to write.

Hi mom.

So…Sam's back. I feel like you'd be happy that all your kids are together. But maybe you'd be mad that he's back hunting. Either way, it's only for one case.

He has an apartment. And a girlfriend. Her name is Jessica, she's gorgeous. Dean tried to flirt with her, of course, because he's a douchebag. (Maybe if you were alive, you'd tell me not to call my brother a douchebag. But you aren't.) Sometimes I wonder how I can stand him. It's probably because he raised us.

I hate this. The Sam thing. I'm mad at him for leaving, I'm mad at him for having wanting this stupid perfect normal life. I'm mad because I feel guilty for pulling him away from it.

I could've had that too, maybe. If we were raised like normal people instead of warriors or whatever.

Sometimes I think that I hear to talking to me. Not like in a crazy way, just…I don't know. I hear you? I feel like you're watching over me? I don't know. That sounds stupid. This whole thing is stupid.

Love,

Rebecca

A/N: Please leave a review on your way out. I'd love it a lot. Any questions will be answered at the beginning of the next chapter (or I'll tell you which chapter they'll be answered in or I'll PM you).

Fic Recommendation(s):

-Grace Under Fire
By: comealongpixie

Medical mystery Grace Winchester has felt alienated from her brothers Sam and Dean for as long as she can remember. When their father goes missing, the three of them team up to find him, setting off a chain of events that will change both their family and the world forever. Sisfic, canon divergent. Ships inside.

-Us Against The World

By: January Lily

Sisfic! Campbell "Elle" Winchester, the youngest Winchester sibling, has never led a normal life—unless one considers ganking ghosts "normal." But things shift when Elle and her brothers find themselves on a hunt for their father and the thing that killed their mother—and her. One thing is for certain, a Winchester's life is never simple. Current Season: 1. bannercred: annie.

Reminder to review, please.