PROLOGUE

November, 1991

It was well after one AM when John Winchester's 1967 Impala sped up the driveway of Ellen & Bill Harvell's house. 12 Year old Dean was awoken when he heard the engine come up the block. He watched through the window of the guest room as Ellen and Bill ran out into the rain to meet him. Ellen took a blanket wrapped bundle from John's arms and carried it back into the house. He nudged 8 year old Sam awake, but the boy shooed him away, so Dean headed down to the top of the stairs to watch what was going on alone.

"What the hell, John!" Ellen cried as she peeled the wet blanket from the bundle she was carrying. It was a little girl, about four or five, a tiny thing wearing a pink little mermaid nightgown. It was covered in blood.

"I didn't know they had her in there, I swear. I scoped the place out for a week. Nothing to indicate that-" John was interrupted by a loud clap of thunder that made him jump.

"Did you even check if it was even safe to bring her here?" Ellen growled.

"She ain't a demon, silver, holy water, salt, nothing." John gently lifted the unconscious girl from Ellen's arms.

"Do you think she was supposed to be a sacrifice?" Bill asked.

"I don't know. I wasted every witch in the place, luckily I did a check of the house before I lit it up." He held out one of the child's arms; it was dotted with several deep red puncture wounds all in a line. "She was hooked up to IV's or something, almost a dozen of them." He lifted up her night gown to show a series of small black symbols tattooed on her lower back and a few on the nape of her neck.

"She's got these marks, on her wrists and ankles too. From the looks of it they're permanent."

"We knew this wasn't a bush league coven, but this?"Bill inspected the markings on the girls wrists a little closer. "This is beyond anything we could have imagined."

"There's more." John's voice got quiet. "She's my daughter."

"What?" Ellen and Bill spoke in unison.

"Did I just hear you right?" Bill asked.

"You did," John sighed. "About six years ago, I met this woman, Brenda, on a job. She owned a bookshop with a decent occult collection. About six month later I get a letter saying I'm gonna be a dad. She didn't really want anything, just thought I had a right to know. I was there for her birth, saw her maybe one or two times, but, felt she was safer with her mom than with me. Last month, was her 5th birthday. I called a few times, didn't hear anything. Thought I come down and check it out. The shop was ransacked and the house…well, with the condition it was left in and the amount of blood left on the walls, I could only assume they were dead. My investigation lead me to the coven."

"Well what are you gonna do with her now?" Ellen asked.

"Until I know what they were going to be using her for, I can't just let her go off to wherever. In the mean time, I guess I'm gonna have to give Bobby Singer a call, see if he can dig up any information. I'll get the boys we'll leave now, get a good head start."

"Like hell you are, it's late, the boys are asleep. The coven is dead, you'll be safe here until breakfast. Let me take this little one and get her cleaned up into some dry clothes. Jo has some stuff she has outgrown, I'll pack her a bag." Ellen took the girl and brought her upstairs.

The next morning,

Ellen Harvell made the best blueberry pancakes in the state. That wasn't opinion it was a damn fact, well at least in Dean's mind. The delicious and fluffy bits of delicious distracted him from the tons of questions he had about what he had seen last night. His dad would have been pissed to find him spying, so he stayed quiet.

John walked into the kitchen, although he was quiet, it was hard not to notice him whenever he was in the room.

Sam and Dean both ran to greet their father. "Hey boys," John said ruffling Sam's hair. "Listen, I have something to tell you, so meet me in the living room after your breakfast."

Dean was still savoring the last piece of bacon as he entered the living room. There was his father, on the couch sitting next to a little girl in a blue dress and silver sneakers. She had a matching bow in her hair and stared blankly at Dean.

"Dean, Sam, I want you to meet Jill." John stood up. "Jill is, um…Jill is," he struggled to find the words. "The hell with it…Jill is your sister."

"Sister?" Sam cried. "Mom died when I was a baby. How can she be our sister?"

"She has a different mom, stupid." Dean snapped.

"Hey!" John scolded, "but yes, Dean is right. She has…had a different mom. Her mom died too, so now we got to look out for her."

"She's a girl." Dean lamented.

"Very astute Dean." John scowled. "I want you to care for her, the same you would Sam. She's family and needs us. Now, pack up your gear, we're headed out."