AN: This is my very first fanfiction. Please let me know what you think and if you find any mistakes; I apologize for any errors in advance! Thanks for reading! c:

"Sammy, it's time to go to bed."

Sam Winchester left his eyes glued to the TV, ignoring his older brother.

"Sam. Bed." Dean repeated.

"But Dean, Batman just came on." Sam whined. He turned his head and faced his brother, with his lower lip curled.

"Dad'll get pissed if he knows how late you stay up these days. Come on, just go to bed." Dean said, reaching for the TV remote. Sam tried to swipe it away, but Dean grabbed his brother in a head lock and easily pried it from his hands. Getting up in defeat, Sam rubbed his neck and walked sulkily towards the uncomfortable hotel bed he had been forced to sleep on for the past few nights.

"Dad won't find out if you don't tell him." He mumbled, while tugging the sheets loose from the maid's intricate folds. Dean merely shrugged, and plopped down on the couch, propping his feet up on the opposite armrest on which his head now lay. Sam crawled underneath the covers, and pulled them up to his chin. "Speaking of Dad... when is he getting back?"

Dean sighed and frowned, for he had heard this question so many times before.

"I don't know, Sammy. He'll be back when he's back."

"Is he hunting something dangerous this time?" Sam asked, positioning himself so that he was sitting on his bed once more.

"Maybe." He replied, in a cold tone, to hide his true emotions.

"What is it?" Sam asked, crawling to the edge of his bed to get closer to his brother.

"None of your business." Dean said nonchalantly, staring at the TV screen with a blank expression.

Sam frowned and got off the rusty coloured bed, and walked up to the couch. He pressed his hands onto the rough, worn texture of the back, and asked his brother again. Dean coughed with discomfort, and flipped through channels to look as if he could care less.

"The thing that killed mom." He finally said, his voice almost giving in. Quickly, he retook is careless air and added, "Now get your ass in bed, Sam."

Before Sam could protest, the motel room's door swung open with a loud bang. The two brothers jumped up in surprise, gaping at the figure now standing in the doorway. Drenched, John Winchester stepped inside, closing off the stormy night behind him. The small shivering girl in his arms clung tightly to his neck, and had her face buried in his chest.

"Hey, boys." He said, in his husky voice. He took one more step forward, the squish of his wet boot making an awkward noise against the fake textile floor.

Dean stared at the little figure in awe, opening his mouth, only to have a small 'what?' to escape his lips.

"Dean, I don't really have time to explain things now, but I will later." John said, taking a few steps so that he was standing in front of his son, who was now kneeling awkwardly on the couch. Dean quickly hopped off, and stood before his father.

"This is Alice. You take care of her while I'm gone. Like you take care of Sammy. Do not let her out of your sight." He listed strictly, like a drill sergeant. Dean wanted to ask questions, but bit his tongue. John slowly lowered the girl to the ground, taking hold of her hand. Alice kept her head down.

"Alice, this is my son, Dean. He's going to take care of you. Trust him like you trusted me." John said in a soft tone, taking on his father side. Dean pressed his lips tightly together. His father rarely used that tone with him anymore. He so badly wanted to know who this girl was, and why he suddenly had to take care of her. It seemed hardly fair, but he knew better than to complain with his father.

Pushing a lock of his hair out of his eyes, John caressed Alice's head with one hand, and then let go of her. Dean took a step forward, but faltered.

"I'll be back soon, Dean. Just take care of her for now." John said, giving his son one last piercing look before immerging himself back into the pouring rain.

The sound of water dripping off of Alice's hair was the only thing audible for the next few minutes. The children stood in silence, Sam staring at Dean, Dean staring at the new comer, and Alice staring at the floor. Needing to break the silence, Dean spoke first.

"Your name's... Alice?"

The girl didn't respond.

"That's... a nice name." He continued. The girl still did not move, nor did she express any signs of acknowledgement that she was being talked to.

Dean blinked, trying to come up with something else to say. You take care of her while I'm gone.

"Where's your mommy, Alice?" Dean asked, doubting he'd get a reply, but trying anyway.

The girl's shoulders tensed, her fists clenching and unclenching. After a long pause of silence, she lifted her head for the first time. Dean stepped back and gasped in surprise.

Mostly covered in blood, Alice's face had a twist of sadness and shock. One eye ceased to open, for blood had caked over her eyelid and made it difficult for her eyelashes to separate from one other. Strands of her chocolate brown hair stuck to her round cheeks, and her small rosy lips quivered, finally whispering out her answer.

"Dead."