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Title: Take It Away

Chapter: One

Summary: All he ever wanted was to be normal. Like everybody else. Was that too much to ask?

Disclaimer: Everything created by Kripke, is his. Everything I create, is mine. It's that simple.

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His name was Logan Winchester. Samuel Logan Winchester. He took after his father, but mostly his uncle. He was the quiet type. Enjoyed studying. Wasn't a drinker, and rarely swore.

.

Logan went for the girls, but didn't treat them like the next party. He respected them. He struggled through high school, the bullies, the drama. It wasn't really his style. It wasn't his life. Logan understood from a very young age that he was different. His life style wasn't typical.

.

He moved from place to place. Motel to motel. His was raised under the strict rulings of a single father. Like the army it was. Logan faintly remembered the time when his dad was happy, when things were…nice.

.

That was when his mother was alive. When his Uncle was around. Both died of supernatural causes. Horrible scenes. What heart was left in Dean Winchester died that night. His soul
blackened, not evil, but not good.

.

Logan was lucky, though. He had a sister. An older sister, but a caring one just the same.

.

Her name was Grace. She looked after Logan like he was her own son. The relationship between these two siblings was beyond any norm. It was the dream of all parents. Better than a fantasy, and stronger than iron. He loved Grace more than anybody else in the world.

.

"Hey, Geek! Get outta bed! We're gonna be late!" Older sister said, poking her head inside her little brother's room.

Groaning, Logan shook his head, but lifted himself up. Eyes opened so slightly, but drooped with exhaustion, "What?" He called out-knowing his sister was probably in the kitchen.


"School!"


School? Logan's eyes furrowed in confusion, "But it's Saturday." He rasped. He just wanted to go back to bed. After the latest hunt,Logan was exhausted.


Logan could practically hear his sister roll her eyes, "It's Monday, geek!" Sniffing the air, he caught a familiar scent…and recognized it as pancakes. Pumpkin pancakes. His favorite.


Why was she in a good mood? Grace was never in a good mood. An even better question would be why she even cared about the time.


She always wanted to sleep late…skip school. Not be on time.


His door was open, and that's when his father walked on by, "Would your sister be out of bed, son, if there wasn't school?"


And that's what caught his attention. Eyes widening, Logan immediately shot out of bed and launched for his calendar. It held everything. Times. Dates. Where he was suppose to be, when. He was lost without it.


Ripping the thing open, he flipped page after page until he came across today, "Oh no." August 23rd. Monday, August 23rd.


"First day of school, dipstick!" Grace was practically laughing, her high pitched voice ringing through the hall.


"Oh crap!" How the hell had he missed it?!


He was in some jeans and a black shirt before the next minute could pass by. Logan was a stickler for routine, and he just had to brush his teeth. He had skipped the shower because he just didn't have the time, and he'd have to do something about that later.


Racing from his room, Grace was standing at the apartment door. Swinging her keys, whistling a tune, holding a plate of pancakes-dry just how he liked 'em-. A smug grin on her face.


Narrowing his eyes, he snatched up the military green book back that lay empty on the couch, "Why didn't you wake me up earlier?!" Being late for your first day of High School wasn't a good thing! This was his second year starting out as a freshman. Logan was already fifteen. This was stupid…but he had to cut out mid last year…and now he just had to start over…


Grace was almost twenty, but she decided to be a senior. She was going as eighteen! Eighteen!!! His sister was going to his school. This sucked! Beyond words…and even worse? She was playing with him!


Opening the door, she shrugged her shoulders, "I forgot."


Glaring now, "Right. You forgot." Snuffing a rude response, he just snatched his breakfast from her hand and stomped out the door.


Grace was laughing, and as she went to shut the door, "Grace?"


She poked her head back inside the apartment, responding with a "yea?"


Logan didn't hear what his dad had to say, he was inside the green 1994 Mercedes, pouting like the enraged teenager he was.


Grace closed the door, and instead of bouncing' around like she normally did, she simply walked. Took her time. Getting inside, she started the
car up. Logan grumped a quiet, "What'd he want?"


Putting the car into reverse, she looked in front, side mirrors, "Nuthin'. Just telling' us to have a good day." She said it too carelessly.


Logan knew better, "Grace." His tone said it all. He was young, sure, not stupid.


She glanced his way, before putting her eyes back on the road, "Nuthin, kid, alright? Now keep yer mouth shut." And before Logan could even
open his mouth she was blaring her father's music, Ac/Dc.


He knew she was just trying to protect him. But sometimes, she was just too damn annoying!

.

Grace left first. She was married when Logan turned 17. The man's name was Daniel, everyone just called him Danny. Their father didn't approve, but his stubborn sister married him anyway. Six months later she was expecting, and that very winter Anabelle joined the Winchester clan.

.

He was going off to Harvard. Or maybe Yale. Logan even applied at Stanford. That held a special place in his father's heart, he knew. Logan had been hesitant, but his mind was
screaming for college.

.

He wanted out, but he wanted more. He hated this life, the life of a hunter, but it was the best thing he could have ever asked for. He knew he wasn't normal, but wanted it more than
the air itself.

.

And just at the peak of all this trouble, he met her. That girl. That one special girl. Junior year. He was eighteen, she was seventeen, and for half that year she didn't even know he existed. Logan had it bad. Grace made fun of him, his dad never said a word.

.

The moment she finally saw him was the day she ran him over. Logan always walked "home", he never had a car-the impala was their dads. Their dad's only. Grace was off playing wife 'n mother, so he was suddenly responsible for himself.

.

He was in the hospital for a two 'n half weeks. Marianne started out with coming in every few days, but eventually it grew to an every other hour occurrence. Their very first date was the night he was free from the Doctor's bounds.

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Logan arrived home at 2 in the morning, the goofiest smile painted on his face. It instantly fell when he saw his father at the couch. He thought he was dead, or worse…grounded. Dean snapped his newspaper shut and stood up. The only words to escape his mouth were,

.

"Do not fall in love." And he was gone.

.

But as every teenager did, he disobeyed.

.

One full year. It was their anniversary. Two weeks away from graduating, and a week since he turned nineteen. He had a ring. A diamond ring. His father found it.

.

Dean intervened.

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" But why, Logan?" Marianne plead quietly.

Swallowing, Logan felt tears burning his eyes as he pressed a hand to his girlfriend's cheek, "It's complicated." Choking up a smile.


She shook her head, as if not believing, "B-but you promised."


"I know."


"You swore you'd never break your promises. You said that." Her words started to break apart.


Swallowing his own sobs, "I know, baby." He wanted to say more, but knew her heart needed this.


Leaning into his hand, a tear trailed down her cheek, "I don't want you to go." She closed her eyes, as if savoring the moment.


This was too hard. He loved this girl, more than his own life. More than his sister. He couldn't even contemplate living in this world without her, but what else could he do? "He's my father, Mary." Whispering, waiting for her to look at him again, "I'm all he's got."


Granting his silent wish, she opened her eyes, revealing a sapphire so glorious it put the gem to shame, "But I love you."


"I love you too, Mary. So much. I'd give any-" He was cut short. A sob broke free. He fought the tears, but as strong as Logan was, they pooled
over, "I 'd give anything to marry you, Marianne. Anything."


She clutched to his hand, keeping it against her face, "Then do it. Marry me."


He shook his head once, "Don't ask me that."


She persisted, "Marry my Logan. Tomorrow. Tonight," Marianne leaned forward and kissed the love of her life. Breaking away, but staying close, "Las Vegas, down town. Anywhere is fine, just don't go with him."


In that moment he wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell his father to Go To Hell, Again! "Marianne" The sobs coming harder, he shook his head faintly, "Please, stop." Why couldn't she just hate him and run? Why couldn't she just slap him and disappear?


She pressed her forehead against his, making sure to keep their eyes locked, "He has to let you go, Logan. You have to live your own life." She pressed her lips so gently to his.


Logan went forward, addicted to her taste, her touch. Marianne's kiss.


"I-I…" His father told him this had to be done. Logan had to leave her, let her go. If he loved her, he wouldn't put her through this. He wouldn't
let her live this life. Logan could hear his father's voice in his head 'She won't become your mother! You will not have her follow you! You hear me?' … 'You tell her you're leaving. Tonight. I mean it Logan!'


'Tell her you're leaving!'


Echoing. Over. And Over.


'Tell her you're leaving.'


'Tell her you're leaving.'


His mind began that mantra, 'I'm can't…I'm leaving…I'm can't…I'm leaving…I can't…I'm…I'm…I'm… "I'm…lost."


Silence. A pause really.


"What?"


A deep shaky breath, "I'm lost, Marianne." Licking his lips, nerves overpowering, "I don't know what to do." He came here believing one thing, and was stuck in the middle wanting something else.


And that's when the devil struck.


"Logan!"


He froze. Ice shooting across every bone. A darkness washed over him, fear encompassed him, "Oh no." Logan choked.


"Logan! Where are you?!" His father shouted again! Voice echoing throughout the entire park.


Marianne was trembling, "No, no, Logan. You don't have to go. You don't have to. Look at me," She could see the terror in Logan's eyes, "Live
with me, ok? We'll get married, go to college, have a family." Logan wanted that. He did. Please God let him have that!


"I'm not who you think I am," He sobbed.


She forced a smile, one of love and hopeless desires, "Yes, you are."


He tried to shake his head, although it was hard with the grip she now had upon him, "There's things, Marianne. Things about me. You can't possibly-"


"I'll learn. Let me learn." It was a beg.


"I can't," He said desperately.


"Why!"


A shadow encompassed them. A hand grabbed hold of the back of his jacket, and before another word could be spoken, Logan was wrenched away.

.

Marianne died five weeks after he left. Drowned in the lake. Some were calling it an accident…others say suicide.

.

Three days after the funeral they found a note. Stashed under her pillow. To Logan.

.

He didn't read it.

.

To this very day it remains in the flower pink envelope, tied respectfully inside his black leather journal. Still sealed, the print of her coral lipstick placed lovingly beside his scrolled name.

.

His heart was broken. Shattered. Logan closed himself off from the world. Away from feeling. He started to get along with his father, but
only because he started to become him.

.

Grace tried to call him. But he wouldn't answer his phone. She tracked him down, but he would never answer the door. She started to pray for him, but it seemed God never answered.

.

Logan hated his father. Despised himself. But it didn't matter. He had nothing else. So he'd do what his Old Man always wanted. He became the hunting soldier his dad always wanted him to be.

.

Today is his 23rd birthday.

.

He doesn't care.

.

Because he doesn't remember.

.

Dallas, Texas. May 21st. King Edward's motel. His father was asleep, snoring as usual, while Logan took the time to surf the internet.
Research a hunt.

.

There was a demi-god in town. Which kind was still uncertain. It was his job to find the nitty gritty details, while his dad became the brute force. Didn't matter how aged that legend was, Dean Winchester was the best. Always had been. Always would be.

.

The lights were out. It was 11 at night. A blue glow came from his laptop, flicking between white 'n gray depending on what Logan found.

.

His cell started ringing. Vibrating. Engaged in a certain article online, he pulled the phone from his pocket. Not bothering to check the ID, he flipped it open, "Winchester." Habit.

.

Static.

.

It pulled at his attention, "Hello?" No answer. Grunting, he snapped it shut. Tossing it in front of him, the phone bounced once on the bed for landing on its back, "Stupid prank calls." He
grumbled.

.

Five minutes later, the chirping went off again. This time Logan actually paid some attention. Leaning forward, he grasped the cell and eyed the caller, "Unknown?" He accepted the call,"Hello?"

.

Static.

.

"Anybody there?"

.

Nothing.

.

Biting his lip in frustration, he nodded his head once, "Yea, whatever." He scoffed, and shut his phone.

.

Five minutes later.

.

Unknown.

.

"Who the hell is this?" He snapped. Dean snorted, and for a fearful moment Logan thought he woke his father.

.

He breathed freely as the old man shuffled about, and rolled over.

.

Logan turned on the bed, closing his laptop while doing so. He stood to make way towards the door when…when he heard it. A song.

.

It was scratched up. The static cutting too much out. But it was familiar. Faint. But familiar.

.

"…my prince will come. Some day my prince will come…"

.

Logan stopped breathing.

.

Eyes went wide. He froze in place.

.

Snow White.

.

It was from Snow White.

.

Her favorite movie...

.

Song trailed off, static grew louder. His knuckles were white, shaking with terror.

.

"………help me……." A voice sang, chillingly. Words ice cold, desperate, "…..Logan…..help me…!"

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"Logan?" Dean's voice was groggy, but in the background.

.

"….Save me, Logan….he's after me…he's after m-" She cut off, screaming bloody murder.

.

He lost himself, "Marianne!"

.

Then she was gone. The sound cut off, "Marianne!" He cried desperately, "Marianne!"

.

"Logan!"

.

He began panting. Heart was racing, "M-Marianne? Mari-"

.

A deep chuckle filled in the static. Maniac. Dark. Evil.

.

The phone clattered to the ground, as Logan collapsed.

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Tbc