Delaney gets a call late one night from a broken Dean. Sam is gone, off at College becoming the perfect law student and boyfriend. Delaney finds herself trying to pull the boys together and fix the Winchester Family. Or what's left of it. Aside from that, she finds she's having trouble fixing her own problems and handling the search for her dad. Can she help the boys remember they're family? Will she find her dad? And can she do it all by herself?

Chapter One: Broken

Nebraska; The Roadhouse

I had never fully understood the concept of broken. I'd felt broken countless times. That had been inevitable. I'd seen broken. The vase that I had knocked down on my way upstairs in Bobby's comforting home, playing tag with a seven year-old Sam, that had been broken. The beer bottle that John had thrown aside in a drunken stupor, that had been broken. The arm Sam had broken when running around a little too fast and crazily, not giving any regard to where he was placing his feet. The window I had thrown a baseball through, accidentally. The hairclip that Dean had given me, the Impala stereo, that one swing set at Bobby's, the many many cars in Bobby's salvage yard. The point was, I'd seen broken. I had thought I knew it, because I had sure felt it before. I hadn't, though. I didn't know the concept of broken until I saw the look in Dean Winchester's eyes the night I arrived in his motel room. I hadn't known broken until I heard the very tones in Dean's voice when the phone rang at the Roadhouse, late one night. That was broken.

The night was warm and humid even with the air conditioning at full blast. The Roadhouse had its usual bustle of hunters and the random normal person or two. I was a little impressed at how long the two humans were lasting, even as the fearful look began to creep into their eyes. I recognized the moves they were about to make as they ran for it. It was a shame. They had been doing so well.

Jo headed for the couples table, a small smirk coming in to play although she kept it toned down. She had her usual jeans and t-shirt.

I watched as the couple shakily handed her a wad of cash and stood up to leave. I saw Jo mumble something, smiling, as they exited. She cleared the table chuckling.

Ellen had me bartending as she talked with a pair of old looking hunters in one corner of the Roadhouse. It looked like business so I didn't complain.

As I handed a shot of tequila to a hunter going through his computer, Jo squeezed behind the bar next to me and began to prepare another drink.

"Almost peed their pants?" I asked as I grabbed a rag from behind the counter and began to wipe off the spilled water and dirt.

"Come on, they had more guts than that. I'd say close, though." Jo smiled. "They got past the sour-pinched faces. They were full on terrified towards the end."

"It's kind of mean of you to let them in even when you know you'll be causing them all sorts of distress and a heart attack or two. They looked like they were stuck in some sort of torture chamber. We could've been some crazy satanic worshippers for all they knew. The torture devices most of these hunters have…"

"It was hilarious. And anyway don't act like such a damn saint, I saw you laughing."

"Hey, I was just enjoying what I had the good fortune of seeing." I smiled, smacking her in the head as she nudged me with her shoulder.

Jo and I had become really close over the years. When I had first arrived at their doorstep like a damn orphan from one of those bad old English movies, they had taken me in. Bobby had pulled some strings and I had a home or something close enough to it. I liked The Roadhouse, it was a bar and a famous hang out for hunters. A place of weapons, fistfights, alcohol, sweaty PMSing hunters that you just wanted to give a good kick below the belt. It wasn't the ideal home, not even close. But I wasn't the average normal girl and I was sure there wasn't one of those for miles.

Jo and I hadn't been sure what to make of the other. When I'd seen her, she'd look like the traditional normal girl, with the blonde hair and thin figure. She'd seemed a little soft to me until I'd seen her shoot a rifle. And until I'd seen her punch a hunter in the face when he'd tried to grab her ass. I had learned not to underestimate her after that.

After the whole scoping each other out thing, we'd moved onto the whole ignoring each other. She really hadn't seemed worth the time to get as a friend and as much as I knew it was messed up to treat someone like they didn't exist, I hadn't actually been in a friendly mood. I thought I didn't need any hunter buddies and the only thing I had thought of was not pissing them off and making them kick me out of their place. I needed their food and their roof. That was it.

I didn't talk to her or Ellen other than necessary and after a few days, I knew Ellen had called in Jo to try to get to know me. I'd closed the door on her face.

I hadn't been in the mood for anything besides working and finding my dad. I had known that they knew about my circumstance and they had obviously put that into consideration after that night. They left me alone after and I appreciated it.

I hadn't really thought I'd be lonely because for some strange reason I had expected the dumb-assess to call me. I'd have thought a call per day or something around there but they only called around once a month. And they'd even stopped that a couple of years ago.

I didn't have the right to complain about it because I knew they were busy. I was busy as well. And even if I missed them like hell, I understand that maybe they were also too tired to call me after a hunt.

It got lonely. And I guess Jo felt that because right when I felt I'd have to talk to my stupid pillow just to get something out of my mouth, she gave it another try. And we took off from there.

Ellen was another different story. After Jo and I began to talk, I still had no interest for Ellen. I didn't like her for a long time and she sure hadn't seemed to enjoy the sight of me. Bobby had said she was one of the best hunters and women he knew, that she was about the most understanding and sympathetic woman he'd met over the long rocky road of his life. After the first few days I assumed he'd confused her with someone else.

She corrected me, she shut me up when I swore, when I smart-assed her. She put me to work straight away and that hadn't been what I had minded at first, it was the job she gave me that I had minded. I was in charge of cleaning up the place for a long time until our relationship got better, but that period seemed like a long tiring scary place to go back to. Hunters were really some disgusting pigs.

And behind all of the annoyance and frustration I felt when confronted with the prospect of Ellen, I began to realize she shouldn't be someone I didn't like. I began to admire the way she spoke to and treated hunters in the bar that didn't follow her rules. And I noticed that every hunter that visited her bar respected her and didn't try any type of shit with her. She was someone nobody dared to mess with. Me included.

All in all, I had found a home in the Roadhouse. In between all the smelly crazy hunters and the huge amount of alcohol. Figures.

"Hey, can you bring out the new bottle of good whisky that I have in the back. Looks like Twiddle-Dum and Twiddle-Dee plan on staying for awhile. Maybe if I get them drunk they can pass out before they decide to really stay here. I could drag them out the back and leave them in a ditch." Ellen leaned over the bar, saying it all quietly.

"That's nice, Ellen. Such hospitality you have." I rolled my eyes and headed for the back.

"You wouldn't say the same thing if you were in my shoes, girl," she called.

I smiled softly as I entered the back room where Ellen kept extra chairs and supplies. In one corner she had a special cabinet wall of alcohol that she kept for herself and friends. She always kept the best alcohol for herself and I didn't blame her.

I opened the highest glass door and reached farther in for the large bottle of whisky she wanted. As soon as I closed it my phone began to buzz in my front pocket. I put the bottle down and struggled to get my phone out.

I put it to my ear, "Hello?"

"Delaney, how have you been?"

I froze, a million shades of emotions engulfing me. I gripped my phone tightly, repeating the greeting in my head a few times trying to make sure it was who I thought it was.

He hadn't called me in years. I hadn't seen him or heard from him since the night I said goodbye. I knew there hadn't been any reason for not calling one another, checking in but I'd never really had the guts to pick up the phone and dial his number. I trusted him enough to call me when it got hard and I'd have to deal with him then. And apparently he had because he didn't sound good at all. He sounded tired and lonely but most of all, he sounded hurt.

I'd learned to recognize the hurt in his voice a long time ago but I was still a little surprised I could read his voice just as perfectly as I could back then.

"Uhh… wh-Dean? Is that you?" I stuttered aware of how surprised and caught off guard I sounded.

"Yeah… It's me. Long time no see." He chuckled dryly.

"Are you okay? You don't sound…" I trailed off, remembering how he hated it when anyone asked him that. I'd seen him practically start throwing punches over it.

"I'm livin'" I could distinctly hear the clank of a glass being put down and the opening of a bottle. It didn't take me much to realize he was drinking.

"It sounds like barely so. Listen, I'm done with my shift and I have a day or two off. More if I ask. Where are you?" I reached for a pad of paper by the cabinet and dug in my front pocket for my pen.

It was a quick decision and maybe I wasn't thinking it out well, but I knew it was the right one.

"I'm fine," he drawled.

"No you're not. I'll be there as soon as I can just tell me where you are." I clicked the pen and waited for his response.

The other side went quiet for so long I thought he had hung up.

"Don't, Delaney. Just… just stay where you are. Just stay as far away from me as you can get. It's what everyone should do."

I listened silently, scared at how bad a state he sounded in. What was going on?

I made my voice sound as calm and neutral as I could muster at the moment and said, "I'll be there in a few hours. Don't go anywhere."

I was about to hang up when I heard him speak.

"Thanks."

"Yeah…umm… Just sit tight, take a nap or watch T.V,'kay?"

I hung up and immediately headed out to ask for a four or three day break. Ellen was sure to love that.

…

"Hey, Bobby. How's everything?"

There was a man I could count on. He called me to check how I was, to lecture me, just to mess with me. He was a man I could trust anything with and he never let me down. Sometimes we annoyed the hell out of one another but it was never like I could stop seeing him.

I tried to sound carefree and relaxed as I said this but I could feel the urgency and anxiety filing me up. I pushed the car Bobby had given me years ago, to its limits. My Chevelle was one of the only things I'd kept for awhile, unlike the many layers of jackets and clothes I had had to throw away. Or the piles of phones I'd had to burn or step on for fear I'd be tracked. It wasn't unknown of for a hunter to be wanted by the police. Hell, it was guaranteed.

All in all, my car was one of the things I could count on, something that would always be there. Unlike Dean, I had no extreme protectiveness over my car and although I did take good care of it (more because of force of habit) I didn't have an unusually weird love attachment to it. But God, did I love my car.

"Slow down, girl. It's dark out and I don't want to have to scrounge for your body pieces in the dark." Bobby scolded calmly.

"You don't happen to know where Dean is, do you?" I accelerated even more, waiting for Bobby's protest. We were over the phone so I wouldn't' have to deal with him until we saw each other. And when we did, I usually followed his orders and didn't usually argue so I took advantage of the moments I got to make him a little red in the face, although I never really would get to see it.

"Yeah… I do actually." I could hear he was tired. I could've bet a few bucks that he'd been up most of the night already; researching on something someone else had called him for.

I smiled slightly once he'd said yes. Bobby was never one to admit keeping tabs on anyone. Well, unless it was a demon or witch or something. But when I needed space or John for that matter, he never admitted he'd been making sure we were okay. He left you alone, don't get me wrong. But he kept an eye on you.

"I thought you and John hadn't talked in years. You never exactly told me why but I do try to not be an inquisitive bitch all the time."

"None of your dang business, Delaney. Do you want to know where Dean is or not?"

"Yes, sir."

"Dean's in Oklahoma. Tulsa. I don't know where he's staying so you're going to have to ask around for information. You always have been good at that anyway."

"Thanks. I'll call you in a few hours."

"Wait. Why you looking for Dean? Have the years finally come to bite you in the ass?"

"Oh, you wish! Nobody's touching this ass." I caught sight of a neon sign proclaiming a gas station was coming up down the street and made note of it. I needed some gas. I was running out quick.

"Delaney, is something wrong with that boy?"

I remained silent for a few seconds but spoke up quick before Bobby could yell. "I don't know. From what I heard he sounded bad. He sounded … drunk."

"Hunters are drunks. What's so urgent about that?"

"He sounded upset. Real upset. Something happened, Bobby. I don't know what but it shook him and it's scaring me."

"Well…" he sighed. "Call me once you figure it out. And I'm serious."

I burst into a smile even though he couldn't possibly see me, "I will. Scout's honor."

"Quit smiling."

…

I wasn't entirely sure how I got from Nebraska to Oklahoma in one night. It was all just a big long blur filled with the noises of my car's engine and the occasional honks and screams of a scared citizen telling me to slow the hell down. Like I was gonna listen to them.

By the time I figured out what motel Dean was staying at (after many calls from in my car in the parking lot of a thrift store) I was drop dead tired. It took me all I could to ask what room the 6'2 green-eyed spiked hair guy was staying at.

"Thank you." I smiled tiredly, taking my fake I.D card from the chubby rosy-cheeked lady behind the check in counter. I quickly stuck it in my pocket and made my way back outside to look for Dean's room. It seemed so weird to me that he had just called me. Not weird in the sense that I wasn't used to doing stuff for him, I was. It seemed weird to me and deadly serious that he had asked for my help or had at least tried. I had no idea what could possibly be wrong with him and Dean was never one to let something easily get to him. And that was what convinced me, even before I entered his room that he was as far from okay that anyone could get.

I dragged my feet down the long pathway of doors and motel rooms, searching closely for the room titled 17 and when I found it, I tried the door. It was locked. I didn't want to make Dean get up from his bed, considering it was practically morning anyway so I dropped to one knee and removed a bobby pin from my hair.

I fiddled with the door knob and the lock for a few seconds then let the door swing open. I casually stood and stuck the pin back in my hair and entered the room, softly closing the door behind me.

It was dark, the only light came from the T.V set by the farthest window. I tiptoed my way past the small table and sofa to the bed, trying to make as little noise as possible.

"Dean." I whispered, reaching out over the surface of the bed, just to find it smooth and empty. I squinted in the darkness, looking for a hunched over form by the sofa or in the small kitchenette. I stumbled my way to the motel door and turned on the light.

The room was empty.

I sighed, thoughts beginning to run through my mind. Maybe he had regretted calling me. Right when I was about to just lie down for a much needed nap, I heard a crash and a few thumps from the bathroom.

I rushed to it, pulling out my gun just in case.

I almost slipped as I reached the doorway and barely managed to grab onto the doorframe as I caught sight of a half-naked unconscious Dean lying on the wet bathroom floor. He was wet and bleeding with just a towel covering the lower half of his body. There was a large gaping cut on his chest and a similar one on his head. He looked bruised and battered and slowly, faintly as if he was coming around.

I scrambled to him, panicking, slipping on the water pouring from the tub. I dropped my gun, reaching for the water tap and turning it off.

"Dean. Hey." I dragged him to a sitting position, leaning him against the sink. He was really heavy and I was already struggling to keep his slack weight upright.

I pushed the wet hair off of his forehead and closely examined the gash. The blood was still flowing so I reached for the hand towel hanging over the sink and used it to dab at his cut. It looked like it was going to need stitches.

He mumbled something and I stopped to stare at him. His eyes were slowly beginning to open all the way and I waited for his eyes to focus on just one thing.

It took him awhile to realize it was me and when he did he gave me one of his easy-going smiles which meant he was drunk, "Delaney… you… have sumthin' on your chin…"

I let out a huge breath I didn't know I was holding when it was clear he was fine. I couldn't help but smile a little at the sight of the goofy smile I loved and had missed.

"Yeah. Come on. Let's get you patched up and in bed."

I struggled to get him to his feet but when I did, I carefully led him out of the bathroom and onto his bed. I rummaged through his duffle until I found his first aid kit and then proceeded to look for a pair of boxers. When I found them, I handed them and a bottle of tequila, purely for the pain to come. I turned away as he put them on.

When he was done I applied alcohol to his head. He hissed and tried to squirm out of the way but I slapped him on the arm, "Lay still, will ya? You big baby."

When I was satisfied his noggin was disinfected I pulled the sewing needle out from the kit. Ugh, I had always hated sewing people up. It was just so unnatural. The needle in the skin, attached to a piece of thread that was supposed to hold you together. Great plan, doctors. At least I wasn't squeamish and had a stomach of steel. After many years of practice.

I prepared it then made him sit up. "Okay, I got the needle. Now I'm gonna-"

"You don't have to narrate the whole thing, Dr. Seuss. Just get it over with. I'm a man." He drawled, giving me a half-annoyed stare.

"Well, then."

He hissed a little as I began then slowly went silent. When I was done with his forehead I proceeded to his chest. Forty five minutes later I was done and as I placed the stuff aside and turned back to him, realized he was asleep. I wasn't sure if that was such a good idea with him having hit his head and all but it looked like he deserved the rest.

I covered him one of the motel blankets and watched as his breathing relaxed. God, what was going on with him?

I moaned as I made my tired legs move to Dean's duffel. He wouldn't mind if I changed into one of his shirts. And even if he did, I didn't care because I was wet and sleepy and tired and if I didn't get a good sleep that night, tomorrow I would be ready to bite anyone.

Sure that he was asleep I stripped to my bra and underwear. I pulled one of his plain white t-shirts over my head and dropped on the sofa.

It seemed, even after all the years that inevitably seemed to pass without us seeing each other, I still knew how to take care of the cocky bastard. I had thought that to be my job for a long time.

I was worried. I was scared.

I had never seen Dean is such a bad state as this, and trust me, I had seen him in many. I had seen him bleeding, choking, yelling, angry, laughing, and crippled. I knew a lot of sides of Dean Winchester and this was one I wasn't familiar with.

He looked tired and frustrated, but most of all he looked hurt. He sounded hurt too. And not because he was physically hurt, that was only part of it.

And as I waited for some sleepiness to hit me, I noticed something. Something that should have come to me a while ago. There was no Sam or John in the motel room. There was only one duffel. And to make sure Sam hadn't just left with John for the time being, I sat up and looked towards where Dean's stuff was. It was only his stuff. The shock of him calling me and finally being able to see him for the first time in years had clouded me.

Where was his brother? Where was Sam?

Songs for this chapter:

Broken by Seether and Amy Lee

Eeeepp! I'm back!

I'm so excited! Are you guys so excited?

Okay, okay... breathe. :P

I know it was only a few days but I had been working on the sequel meanwhile I retyped the ending of the first part. And you have no idea how much I struggled to get the beginning just right! I literally wrote the beginning nine times! I was frustrated like hell at some point but I got it!

I have a few things I want to say. Or write. Or get across. Whatever.

First, I would like to thank all of my reviewers and readers from It's Never Fate. Just know that I try my best to satisfy you guys and my need for literature and writing. :P Seriously, I appreciate you guys.

Secondly, this does start with Dean being away from Sam after he left for Stanford but I promise it won't be for long. Delaney is definitely older now, at the age of twenty-two. She's a solo hunter now and since this story follows her more than the boys, you will pretty much only be able to see Dean in the type of broken state I mentioned above... two or three times before the first part of the sequel is over and the boys are reunited.

Thirdly, Delaney does also get to see and speak to Sam in the first part, meanwhile he is in Stanford. And... she does get to meet Jessica. :D

Fourthly, There will be hunts. And lots and lots! Waaayy more than the two or three in It's Never Fate(sorry)! I have barely written eleven chapters and I already have two! Eeeep! And... if not's douchey me saying this... they're pretty gangsta! I felt like such a good writer and hunter. I did a lot of research and planning. :D That doesn't only mean the hunts on the show. I've been thinking about it and she will see the boys alot but there will be events and hunts besides that.
Fifthly, how Delaney got her Sky Blue 369 SS Chevelle will be explained and a teensy spolier... I will go back to Delaney's first solo hunt.

Sixthly(God, so many numbers. I totally got carried away), I am really happy. (I know, so random). I really am because I am very confident the sequel is going to be so much better than It's Never Fate. If I think about it, It's Never Fate wasn't as good as I would've wanted it to be because it was my first thought-out story(and not that thought-out either. That's what I would've changed) and I was still having trouble handling it and figuring out the real concept and the real story. I thank you guys for sticking with my mistakes and my frustrating lack of thinking things out.

I really do think the sequel is going to be sooo much better. And I can't wait for you guys to read it.

Oh! And I reread my old stuff and I realized, to my horror, Delaney kind of came across as a Mary-Sue. A borderline Mary-Sue. I even took a test and I have been working super hard on her and making her more interesting and one of the most important things about a character, the thing that makes them who they are, is their flaws. Their weaknesses. My beta taught me that. :P You guys will get to know Laney better.

Thanks to Kinthinia for betaing and being honest with me. She was the one that made me realize where I was going wrong but being gentle enough to remind me it was okay to do so. She has helped me develop in writing so much and I don't know what I'd do without her. Thanks, Kinthinia. :P

Boy, I really did get carried away. :P

Love,

Mar98