1996 17 YEAR OLD DEANS POV*****

As I sat in the leather, passenger seat of my dad's jet black 1967 Chevy Impala, I stared out the window and watched the latest run-down, shit motel fade into the distance. I sighed and turned my head around to look into the back seat. I saw my little brother, Sammy— er excuse me, he likes to be called Sam now. Apparently thirteen, which is four years younger than me, is too old to be called that, even though me and dad have called him it for, like, well forever. Anyways, he was sitting with his head against the window, his eyes closed and mouth hanging open, dead asleep. When I saw the drool seeping out of his mouth I tried to stifle a chuckle, but failed miserably.

"What're you laughing at?" He barked at me like a drill sergeant.

"Nothing, sir." I mumbled back, knowing to keep my trap shut.

"Good, cause this is no laughing matter, son." Dad continued, in a less harsh but still tough as nails voice. "You almost got, not only yourself, but also Sammy killed, Dean. You have to be more careful." Dad shook is head in that disappointed way that seems to be all I see lately.

"Is that why you're dumpin' us off at Bobby's house?" I asked, trying to keep the bitter undertone in my voice

hidden.

With a heavy sigh dad answered. "Dean, I ain't dumping you boys anywhere. I think it would just be safer to finish this hunt without having to worry about whether or not you guys are safe back at the motel or not."

"Well, how long have we gotta stay?" I asked, dreading the answer. Cause just a couple of months ago me and Sammy were stuck at some shitty school where all I managed to do was get dumped by a pretty girl. And for Sammy get picked on by some douchebag. But on the bright side he eventually got to beat up the kid.

"A month or two..." My dad explained slowly. And then after thinking for a second added, "Three max."

"Three months?!" I exploded, surprised. I heard Sammy shoot up from his former position in the back seat.

"What's going on?..." He mumbled groggily, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He quickly wiped the, now dried, drool from the corner of his mouth.

"Dad's dumping us off at Bobby's place..." I paused to glare at my dad. "For three months."

"What?" Sammy whined. It's not like I blame him though. If I didn't have a 'cool big bro' reputation to uphold I'd have been whining right alongside him.

"Stop whining Sammy, it's for yours and Dean's own good." Dad said in his fatherly tone that rarely comes out. And when it does it's usually for Sammy, not me.

"But daaad—"

"Sammy!" My dad barked.

Oh great they're fighting again... Time to break out the Walkman. I leaned forward and grabbed my Walkman and headphones off the dash. I plugged in the headphones, slipped them on and hit play. The sweet, sweet sound of

AC/DC's 'Highway To Hell' drowned out my father and little bro's argument. My eyelids started to grow heavier and heavier until I finally leaned my head against the window and let the sweet sounds of my Walkman pull me deeper into slumber.

OOOOO

"Dean..." I woke up to the feeling of my headphones being yanked off. I heard a clattering noise, which I presumed was the sound of my Walkman hitting the ground.

I opened my eyes and saw Sammy standing in front of me. I looked to the ground and saw my Walkman lying on the ground with my AC/DC cassette on the ground. In pieces. "Sammy!" I groaned as I unbuckled and slid out of the car. I bent down and and picked up my, now scratched, Walkman and smashed AC/DC cassette tape. "Aww Sammy you scratched it all up. And you busted the tape too!"

With a sheepish smile on his face, Sammy shrugged, "Sorry, Dean." And then his eyes narrowed from behind his shaggy, way too long brown bangs. "And it's Sam now. Sammy is like, some chubby twelve year-old."

I shoved the busted cassette tape in my pocket and threw the Walkman back in the car. And then I looked at Sammy— oops, I mean Sam. "You were twelve just last May, quit being such a little bitch."

Sammy's eyes narrowed again and he scowled at me. "Well I certainly wasn't chubby..." And as an after he added "...Jerk"

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"Bit—" I got cut off by the sound of a gruff voice.

"Why don't both you come and greet me?" Me and Sammy looked up to see Bobby standing on his porch, arms crossed over his chest, with dad next to him. "Ya idjits."

With a smile, Sammy runs and greets Bobby by throwing his arms around him for a quick hug. I, on the other hand, ever the cool dude, strode up to the house and up the steps. I stuck my hand out to Bobby and firmly shook his hand. "How you doing Bobby?"

"I'm okay, kid, I'm okay." Bobby answered me with a small grin.

I release his hand and looked at my dad.

"Alright guys, I'm leaving. I'll be back in a few months. I'll check in once or twice a week." Dad turned around and without a second glance toward me or Sammy he got in the Impala and drove off.

"Well, at least it's summer so you ain't got school..." Bobby said suddenly. Then he turned to me and opened his mouth as if to say something and then closes it again. He opened his mouth again and this time he began to say something, "Kid-" But his voice got droned out by the blasting sounds of Led Zeppelin's 'Stairway to Heaven'. We all look up to see a 1964 dark blue, Mustang cruising up the dirt road.

"Wh-who's that?" I sputtered, staring at the flawless, mint condition car.

"That's one of my customers, so don't you boys scare her away." Bobby warned us.

Wait... It's a chick? How could a chick A) Have such a sweet ride and B) Be into Led Zeppelin?

"Is she by any chance hot?" I asked on the off chance we could get it on in the the back seat. Cause, damn, that's a nice car.

"Are you stupid boy?" Boy asked me with a dumbfound expression on his face.

"Well I–" I lost the ability to speak for a moment as I watched a leggy brunette, who looks to be around my age, step out of the car. Her hair is medium– down to just past her shoulders–and in soft waves. She's wearing a white belly shirt— what's it called... A crop shirt? Top? Oh I don't care it shows skin and Dean likey! Anyways, she's wearing short, light blue, cut-offs, and dark brown combat boots. "Damn. She is smoking!"

"Shut up ya idjit." Bobby shushed me as the brunette, that I had deemed, 'Legs', walked her way up to us.

"Hey, Bobby!" She called as she hugs him and plants a quick kiss on his cheek. "Ma needs some info on how to kill a new big ba—" She stops in the middle of her word when she notices me and Sammy. "The uh... Big bad wolf, ya know. Umm those umm damn wolfs. Killing our sheep. Uh ha...ha..."

I swear, I almost busted right then and there when she dropped the keys to the Mustang and bent down to pick them up. I got a nice, big, cleavage shot. Well, I guess I'll be taking a nice cold shower tonight. I looked down to see my brother fidgeting around and looking anywhere but at Legs. I guess Sammy'll have to too.

"So, the big bad wolf, eh Legs?" I teased the brunette, trying to get her to blush... With no luck.

"Legs? Yeah.. umm, no. Just– just no." She shook her head and crossed her arms. "My name's Bridgette. Bridgette Hart. And you two are?"

"The name's Logan Todd. And this is my little bro, Ricky." I gave fake names, not knowing if she was trustworthy or not yet. I knew she was when I felt Bobby smack me upside the head and mutter, "Idjit..."

"Bridgette, this is Sammy Winchester. And the bigger, stupider one is his brother, Dean." Bobby walked behind Sammy and put his hands on his shoulders.

Bridgette leaned down a bit so she was level with Sammy, all while unknowingly showing off her– er assets. "Hey Sammy." She threw him a dazzling smile. I could tell Sammy was debating on whether or not to correct her on his name, but I guess his hormones got the best of him and he just smiled bashfully. She ruffled his hair and stood straight. She turned to me and I was immediately mesmerized by her warm, hazel eyes.

"So, Dean, what's up with the fake names?" Bridgette questioned me with her pretty eyes narrowed.

"Well, with my experience, you can't really trust people you don't know..." I explained, trying to pull out my sexy voice... Oh who am I kidding? My everything is sexy without even trying! "But, we could get to know each other real well— ouch!" I yelped, in a completely manly way, when Bobby once again hit me upside the head.

"Yeah funny... Wait, Winchester? As in John Winchester?" Bridgette asked us with beautiful, wide eyes.

"Y-yeah," Sammy stammered, obviously nervous about talking to a hot chick. "He's our f-father."

"So you know about hunting and monsters?" Bridgette asked with wide, hopeful eyes.

"Sure do, we were practically raised on it." I explained to her, my voice quiet. "You too?"

"Yep, my mom and dad taught me everything I know. They're still teaching me, too." Bridgette rocked back and forth on her feet awkwardly. "You may know of my mom... She's Lucinda Hart. Lucinda Rowland, before she got married to my dad."

"Woah. Woah. Woah." I stumbled. I raked over that name in my brain. I know I've heard it before... Wait- "The Lucinda Rowland? Of the Rowland's?" Legs nods. "They're legends! They've taken down more monsters than I can count!"

I can here Sammy mumble, "How high's that... Ten?" I don't think Legs heard him though.

"Uhh yeah..." Bridgette said quietly. She turned to Bobby. "So about that creature I need info on. It's a Wraith..."