A/N: Thanks so much for taking the time to read my story! I have tried writing in the past, but it hasn't worked out for me. Anyway, enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but Karen.
Chapter One
Karen's POV
The sun was going down by the time I got home. I had to be back from work before sundown or mom got pissed. I pull up to her driveway in my 1965 Lincoln Continental I call Charlie. My mother always criticized me for naming a car. My father loved it. He never got to see me enjoy it. He died on the job in a 'freak accident'. I never believed that they told me the truth.
Anyways, I pulled Charlie up to my mom's driveway to see cop cars and an ambulance up front. I park Charlie and exit the car, confused. Two men in, what looks like, cheap suits walk up to me. The pull IDs out of their jacket pockets and introduce themselves.
"Hello. I'm special agent Riley of the FBI. This is my partner special agent Jones. Are you the child of Melissa Clark, Karen Clark?" The shorter of the two asks me. He had short blonde hair and sparkling green eyes. I found myself staring at him for to long and turn my eyes to the other man. He was tall (though everyone is tall to me due to only being 5'4). His partner was a good deal taller than me. His hair was darker (and exceptionally longer) than the other's. His eyes were a mix of blue, grey, and green.
"Yes, she's my mother. Has something happened?" I ask curiously. The two agents glance at each other.
"Why don't we go sit down." Says the taller one, Agent Jones. They led me to the front porch and sat me down on one of the plastic chairs. "Your mother passed away earlier this evening. We're so sorry to have to ask you this now, but we need to know as much information as we can." Says Agent Riley kneeling down in front of me. I barely heard anything they said after those words. After not saying anything for awhile, I finally speak up.
"Can I see your IDs again?" They pull their IDs out of their jackets and hand them to me. I look for any sign they could be fake. I'm not the kind to spill her life story to just anyone, not even when I'm drunk.
I couldn't find anything wrong with the IDs, so I handed them back. "What do you want to know?" I ask wiping my sweaty palms on my pants.
"Have you noticed your mother acting strange the past few days?" Agent Riley asks. I stare at him confused. "Strange how?" I ask. "Not herself. Maybe forgets things sometimes." Says Agent Jones. "No. She hasn't." I say. "Ok. Have you noticed any strange smells? Like rotten eggs or maybe sulfur?" Agent Riley asks. "No. Of course not." I say, starting to get suspicious. "Cold spots?" Agent Jones asks. "No. How the hell is this supposed to benefit the damn investigation?" I cry. The agents sigh and look at each other. "I think we have enough information for now." Agent Jones says with a small smile. The two agents stand up and leave. Something wasn't right. As quietly as I can, I follow them. When I'm in close enough proximity, I could hear them speaking.
"So it isn't a demon and it isn't a spirit. What else could it be?" Says Agent Jones to his partner. "I don't know Sammy. We should come back tomorrow and check for hex bags." Says Agent Riley to his partner, Sammy. "Dean, would it kill ya to stick with Sam when people could be listening?" Sam said to his partner. "Whatever." Dean scoffed. They climb into a car that I recognize as a 1967 Chevy Impala. I grin slightly, knowing my dad would have loved to drive one of those.
My thoughts then drift to what the man, Sam had said. It isn't a demon and it isn't a spirit. Did these guys just break out of a mental hospital? I shake the feeling of uneasiness away and climb back into Charlie. I decide to stop at the first motel I see for the night. I check in and immediately climb under the covers of the stiff mattress. I switched off the lamp and went to sleep.
Dean's POV
I wake up the next morning to Sam shaking me awake. "Get up, Sleeping Beauty." He says pulling the covers off me. I groan and shoot Sam a dirty look when his back is to me. I slide out of bed and grab a cup of coffee of the table in our tiny kitchen.
"We need to go back to the house today. There has to be something like a hex bag there." I say taking a gulp of my coffee. Sam nods. "Get dressed quickly, or I'm leaving without you." He says pulling on his jacket. I roll my eyes and head into the bathroom.
After an hour, we finally arrive at the house. We park Baby on the side of the road next to a car I recognize as a 1965 Lincoln Continental. I turn away from the car and followed Sam around the side of the house.
Sam pries a window open and climbs into the house. I follow him quietly.
"I'll take the upstairs. You search down here." I whisper to him walking towards the stairs. Sam nods and disappears around the corner.
As quietly as I can, i walk up the stairs and into the first room I see. The bedroom was small with a bed and dressers cramped against the walls. I hear a shuffle come from the connected bathroom. I raise my gun and quickly turn the corner and point it at the small brown-haired girl in the center of the room. She obviously heard me come in and raised a gun of her own. I took a moment to look at her and recognized her as the victim's daughter, Karen.
"What the hell are you doing here?" She asked, taking a step closer to me.
"Alright. Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you." I say placing my gun on the ground, holding my hands up. Her body relaxes slightly but she doesn't let her guard down.
Smart girl.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Karen asks again with anger.
"Sorry. That's classified." I say smirking.
I never realized how pretty she was until I got a good look at her. Her dark brown hair was short and only went down to where the tips grazed her shoulders. Her eyes were a bold hazel and her lips were small and thin. She rolls her eyes at me.
"I'm not gonna ask you again, dumbass." Karen says sternly. Before I can respond, Sam comes to a running halt in the bathroom and points his gun at Karen.
She spins toward Sam and I use that moment to grab my gun from the floor. But Karen was too quick. She quickly turns and fires a bullet into my foot.
"Son of a bitch!" I yell grabbing at my foot, wincing.
"Mother of pearl! I'm so sorry! You suddenly moved! I was trained to retaliate in that way!" Karen says, her hazel eyes wide.
"Why the hell did you do that!" I proceed to name every curse word I know. Karen ignored me and slipped her gun into the waistband of her jeans and turned to Sam.
"You guys are so not FBI agents." She says to Sam, "Who are you exactly?"
Sam looks at me. He wants to tell her. What the hell. I nod. Sam turns back to Karen and tells her the story.
"So. You're Sam and Dean Winchester. You are like Ghostbusters and kill ghosts." Says Karen after Sam finishes speaking.
"Not just ghosts. We hunt monsters. You name it, we've probably killed it." I say wincing. Sam was taking the bullet out of my foot. It hurt like hell, but I tried not to show it.
"Werewolves?"
"Check"
"Vampires?"
"Check."
Karen leans in close. "Have you killed Satan?"
I let out a slight laugh. "No. But we've gotten pretty damn close."
"Do you think a monster killed my mom?" Karen asks, her voice quieting down. After a moment, I finally answer. "Yeah. We think so." Karen nods and stands up.
"I want to help." She states firmly. "Hell no." I say sternly.
"Aw! Cmon! You already told me about the monsters. The least you could do is let me help you kill them!" She says pouting. I roll my eyes.
"Fine." I say after awhile. Karen grins at me.
"I should get going. You should too. The cops are coming around again in a few minutes." She says leading us outside.
Karen walks over to the Lincoln Continental and opens the door.
"Is that yours?" I ask eyeing the car. "Yep. 1965 Lincoln Continental. I call her Charlie." She says. Karen sees Sam climb into Baby.
"Is that yours?" She asks excitedly, walking over to Baby. "She's mine. 1967 Chevy Impala." I say proudly.
"Does she have a name?" Karen asks sliding her hand over the car.
"Baby. I call her Baby." I say. She looks at me before walking back to her car.
"See ya later, Winchester." She says tipping her imaginary hat. I climb into Baby and stare at her as she drives off. Sam stares at me and scoffs.
"You really like her huh?" He asks nudging my shoulder. "Shut up!" I say starting the engine. I press on the gas and start the drive back to the motel.
Karen's POV
I get back to my motel after a crappy cup of coffee and a bagel. I eat the stale bagel at the tiny table in the tiny motel kitchen. I hear a swoosh and a man in a trenchcoat suddenly appears in front of me.
"Who the hell are you?" I ask, slowly reaching for the gun tucked in my waistband.
"That won't work on me." He says gesturing to my hand wrapped around the gun, still behind my back.
My eyes widen. But before I can say anything, the man begins to speak again.
"My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord." He says to me.
"An angel? As in fluffy-winged, harp-playing angel?" I say, lacing my fingers together.
"I-I don't understand." He says with confusion. I wave him off.
"So why are you here?" I ask, standing up from my seat.
"I am here to protect you. If you are ever in need of my help, pray for me and I will come. I will check on you every once in awhile to make sure you are alright." Castiel says, shifting on his feet.
"Wait. So you're like my guardian angel?" I ask him, taking a sip of my coffee. Castiel nods.
"Cool." I say, smiling.
Castiel returns a forced smile and dissapears.
"Castiel?" I ask looking around the room. But he was gone.
"More like Asstiel." I mumble taking a bite of my bagel.
