Author's Note: This story is inspired by the one-shot I wrote a week ago entitled "Come Back To Me" You can understand this story without reading it, but if you want a sneak peek at what's to come, please feel free to check it out! The title is from a Miranda Lambert song "Gunpowder and Lead" that I felt fit pretty well with Ally's attitude. All things familiar belong to the CW, Ally and all other characters belong to me.
"She's just a kid, Walt!" My mother shrieked from the bedroom.
"She's gotta learn, Donna!"
"No, what she has to do is go to school, make friends, and live a normal life! You promised me you would stop after we got married! Now we have a kid, and what does she want to do?"
"She's gotta learn." My father repeated, standing his ground, finality in his voice.
"And where do I fit into this? Huh, Walt?"
The screaming continued, filling the whole house and leaking out into the night. I sat on my tire swing in the front yard, listening to the same fight they had for fifteen years. What started as bickering escalated when I began showing interest in my dad's "profession". My father is a hunter. Not your typical kind that shoots bucks with his own hour on Outdoor channel. He hunts paranormal creatures; a job that was passed down in his family for generations.
My mother met him on one of his hunts. He rolled into town in his GTO with worldly eyes, an alluring smile, and rugged features. He oozed danger, charm, and freedom. My seventeen year old mother fell instantly. He was her perfect act of rebellion, and eventually, her ticket out of small town Illinois. At the time, his gypsy life was her bad boy dream come true. He would disappear for a month or two, then come back spinning tales of the road, and his job that kept him away from her. When things got serious, my father sat her down and told her what exactly his "business" was. She was too starry-eyed to care. To her, he was a rogue hero. A regular James Dean meets Clint Eastwood. That is, until they got engaged and she was left behind while he went on the job. I guess she was hoping to go with him on his "adventures" as she liked to call them. The instance which broke the enchantment was when she had to bail him out of jail for credit card fraud not a month after they were married. When she asked him why, he responded: "How did you think I'm able to afford all this? Did you really believe I get paid for doing what I do?" All her illusions came to a shattering halt, her respect for him plummeting as well as her credit. She made him promise that he would give up hunting, a promise she never really enforced until I decided I wanted to 'be like daddy'. The bitter taste evolved into full blown resentment at the realization that he would never change.
I sighed and rested my head against the rope, swaying back and forth on the tire.
"This is my punishment isn't it? I ask you to quit, so you're teaching our daughter to be like you. I'll never fit into your life. I'm just some woman you play house with between 'work'." Her words were that of a woman spurned for years.
"Is that how you feel about it? Didn't seem like that twenty years ago when you were lying on the hood of my car, Donna!" He responded vehemently.
"I was young and stupid then," Her words were biting. "You're always going to love this more than me. I'm your wife, Walt. I'm supposed to be your life! Not your job!"
"My job keeps people alive! I kill the monsters lurking in the shadows; I kill the things people don't see! What I do means something, and one day she's going to learn how to also. She needs to be able to protect herself from what's out there. What else would she do?"
"I don't know, live a normal life?"
"She wants to hunt, Donna! Accept it!"
"She wouldn't want to if you weren't around putting ideas in her head!"
That was it. Right there: "If you weren't around." All those years of resentment and bitterness came to a head in just four words. It wasn't something said in anger, but an idea that she had toyed with for years, watching me develop a fascination for the paranormal and following in my dad's footsteps. Days that I would have been playing with my Barbies, I watched my father clean his guns. On weekends I would beg him to take me to the shooting range to practice my aim. I sat with him at night and asked him to tell me stories about his hunts. To me, I was no different than kids whose dad's were firemen or police officers. My dad was a hero, and I wanted to be just like him. Teenage fantasies long since dead, my mother craved a new kind of life; one that involved a normal family. It hurt me a little, even though I knew she loved me, her dreams of having the apple-pie life, were too dear to let go. She couldn't accept my father and me for who we were.
Sometime later, my father came out, kneeling in front of me. The tears brimmed in my eyes as I looked at him. I knew what he would ask, and the heartbreaking part was that I already knew my answer. Walking into the house, I hugged my mother, and cried. She kissed me on the head, whispering promises that she would see me soon.
I sat in the passenger seat, watching my street blur past the window.
"Last chance, Ally cat." My father said not looking at me. I glanced into the rearview, drinking up the sight of my home.
"Where are we going?" I asked after a moment.
My father pressed down on the gas, speeding up a little, the ends of his mouth quirking up slightly. "We're going to see an old friend of mine. You remember John Winchester?"
Author's Note: Thank you everyone for checking out this chapter, I'm sure as this story progresses, the chapters will increase in length. This was just an opener, a way to introduce Ally and her father without just dumping them into the Winchester's life without much explanation. Please review and tell me what you liked, didn't like, or predictions. I also LOVE ideas for future chapters. Reviews also inspire me to update if I know that people actually like it and want me to keep going. Thanks again everyone!
