New story about Dean and Sophia.
I'm not sure I'm going to continue to write Everything you ever wanted, but those of you who read it will get more information in the next chapter.
So, basically, this is just some short memories from their past until they realized they loved each other.

I own nothing, except for Sophia and this twist.


DEAN

Another state. Another town. Another motel.

Same car. Same people. Same story.

Just another ghost to hunt.

And of course, Dad wouldn't let us go with him. So I had to drag Sammy with me.

Sure, he's my brother, and I love him, but he's a real pain in the ass sometimes.

Thirteen and stubborn.

"C'mon!"

"But I don't want to! Can't we just go back to the motel?" he complained.

"Sam, I don't want to sit in a damn motel room all day. We just got here, and Dad won't be back until God knows when. So just, come on," I told him and started to walk again. I didn't care if he followed or not. If he went back to the motel, that was his decision. But I wouldn't be sitting there, doing nothing. It's April, and it's a nice day. Besides, we would be staying here for a week or so, so why not check the town out?

Thank god we wouldn't go to school here.

It was just a normal ghost, and the only thing that would take time was finding out who it was. If Dad would just let me help, we would get away from this place in just a few days.

But no, for once Dad wouldn't let me help him. Sam was old enough to be alone, and I mean, Dad had been training us since forever. Hunting was the only thing I knew. So why wouldn't he let me help him?

I heard Sammy walking faster behind me, and a few seconds later he was by my side. He didn't say anything though. Fine by me. Silence is good. Sure, it's nice to talk to people but it's not like I can make friends. It's not like I can tell people who I really am. I couldn't even remember the last time I used my real last name. Or first name for that matter.

This really was a small town, and it only took us five minutes to reach the middle of town.

Most people walking the streets were teenagers. Sam's age. My age.

I glanced at my clock. No wonder there was so many teens. School was ending for today.

I had no idea of where we were going, so I followed the people. And had to stop at a street, waiting for the cars to pass.

It was just plain luck that I saw the blond guy walking up to a short, black haired girl. And it was even more luck that my eyes lingered on the two, so I saw him making the move. He was going to push her out into the street. What the hell?

Instincts as both a hunter and a human being kicked in, and I reached for the girl. She wasn't that far away from me, so I only had to take a few long paces before I reached her. The guy had already pushed her when I grabbed for her wrist, and I pulled her into my chest the same second a car drove by where she would have landed.

Plain luck she wasn't dead by now.

Before I let her go, I searched for the guy but couldn't see him anywhere. He was gone. Like he had planned on doing this. Weird. More than that.

I let her wrist go, and moved the arm from the small of her back as she took a step backward and looked up at me.

"Thank you." Her voice was shaky, but her brown eyes were steady, looking up into mine.

She had thick black eyelashes that framed her eyes, and her face was framed by her thick black hair. She wasn't wearing any make-up to the pair of jeans and long sleeved, tight u-neck shirt she was wearing. Despite that, she was cute. Not something I would go for, but cute. With make-up, she would probably be beautiful.

"No problem," I said as she fixed the bag hanging over her shoulder.

"I'm Sophia Gordon," she said, never breaking our gaze. By now, I should have thought it was uncomfortable meeting someone's eyes for so long. But for some reason, it wasn't. Why was that?

"Dean Winchester," I said, not caring about the glare I felt in the back from Sam. Yeah, I know I'm not supposed to say my real name. Deal with it.

But I felt like I could tell her. Like my name was safe with her.

I'd never felt that before.

I was trained to lie. Trained to never tell the truth.

"I've never seen you before. New in town?"

"Passing through," I answered her, smiling down toward her. It was easy to smile with her. And she had a nice smile. And now when she smiled I could see it. Even without the make-up, she was beautiful. A smile could do a lot to people.

"I don't have anything to do, wanna grab a coffee?" she asked, and I was impressed by her courage. Not anyone would ask that after just meeting someone. Okay, I sort of saved her life, but still.

Before I had the chance to answer her, I heard Sam clearing his throat. I had forgotten about him.

"Right, Sophia, this is my brother Sam."

She looked around my shoulder, looking at Sam. I didn't tear my eyes from her. Shouldn't she be going into shock right about now? I mean, she was almost pushed out in front of a car. If I hadn't been there, she would have been.

"Hi, Sam," she said, and then looked at me again. "So, what do you say? A coffee?"

"Sure. Know any good place in this town?"

I found myself interested in her, wanting to get to know her.

It was just something about those brown eyes that kept me curious.

"I know the perfect place," she said, smiled and started to walk. The three of us ended up walking in a row, Sophia in the middle and Sam and I on the sides. It wasn't a long walk, and we didn't have the time to talk so much before we reached the café.

I ordered a coffee and Sam took a coke.

He hadn't learned to like the taste yet.

Sophia ordered a black coffee, too. One thing we had in common.

"So, how did you get to town? Car, train, bus?" she asked as we walked outside again. I was ready to sit down at a table, but she continued to walk, and so did I. And Sam.

"Car," I said, not going into details. Just because I love the car, doesn't mean that a chick will even know what kind it is.

"Okay, let's see…" she trailed off, looking at me. "You're not the usual kind, so an older model maybe?"

Okay, good guess.

"67' Chevy Impala," I told her and watched with amusement as her eyes popped wide. Okay, maybe I was wrong. Maybe she knew a thing or two about cars.

"Shut up. You're lying, right?"

"No. Black and beautiful."

"I'm gonna steel those keys, y'know," she stated, turning around and walking backwards, looking straight at me.

"You can try," I offered, and she smiled smugly, turning around again. I had a feeling she would try if she had the chance.

We talked some more, and by the time we were at the place she was taking us my coffee was almost over.

It looked like a dock of some sort, but it was deserted, and there were no boats there. There was a good view over the ocean, though.

She walked down the bridge like it was something she did everyday. When she was by the edge, she took off her shoes and sat down, resting her feet right above the surface of the water.

"So, what are we doing here?" I asked, sitting down beside her.

"This is the place where I usually go where I want to think. Well, this place or the cemetery."

She looked out over the ocean so I couldn't see her expression. The cemetery? Why? I mean, dead people are rotting in the ground there.

"I'm sorry," Sam suddenly said. He had cached up on something I hadn't. But before I had the chance to think she talked.

"It's okay. Dad died when I was three, so I don't remember much about him."

Oh. Stupid, I thought, mentally hitting myself in the back of my head. I should have figured out someone had died when she said the cemetery was somewhere she went often.

A dead parent. That's two things we have in common.

Why am I even counting?

You tell me.

She looked sad, in a way. She looked like she had put it behind herself, and lived in the present, but she looked sad. Like she was thinking about him. She missed him.

I wanted to make her feel better. I couldn't understand why. I just met her.

"When I was four, our Mom died, too," I said. I wanted her to know she wasn't alone.

Seriously, I couldn't understand myself right now, but I followed my instincts.

"I'm sorry," she said, now looking even sadder. She cared about people. That made me want to know even more about her. Made me more curious.

So I changed the subject.

"So, Sophia Gordon, how old are you?" Despite her shortness, she didn't look so young. Younger than me definitely, but older than Sam. She had this maturity radiating from her, and it was impossible not to see.

"As of right now, I'm fifteen. What about you, Dean Winchester?"

Well, nice try changing the subject. Turning the direction from her to me. 'As of right now' meant now, so it was her birthday.

"Happy birthday," Sam and I said at the same time, and she rolled her eyes, making me chuckle. She didn't seem to like the attention.

"As for your question, I'm eighteen. And Sam's thirteen."

"Fourteen," he corrected me. Yeah, in like a month.

"In May," I said, and I heard Sophia chuckle.

"What?"

"No, it's just… I'm so used to this; it's amusing to watch it between others."

"You have brothers?"

"One older sister, and a younger brother, yes."

We continued talking after that, and I don't know how long we sat there.

But maybe an hour later she suddenly jolted up, grabbing her bag from the dock.

"Damn it, I'm late for work," she muttered as she did so. She had a job?

"You work?"

She looked at me, stopping in her movements.

"What? Is that so hard to believe?" she asked, and I didn't have to think for long.

"No, I guess not."

"Okay, you seem like a nice guy. Both of you do. But you're just passing through, so I'm going to leave it up to you. If you want to see me again, call me," she said, taking up a pen from her bag and grabbing my hand, writing a number on it.

I had to be impressed again. No one I had ever met would have done that.

"Maybe I'll see you around," she said and then both Sam and I watched her run away.

It was quiet for a moment while we watched her, and then Sam was first to speak.

"You gonna call her?"

"I don't know," I told him honestly.

What was the point? Yes, she was nice and probably someone I could get along with. But we're on the road all the time, and it's not like we're staying in one place for a long time. So why get to know someone you have to leave anyway? Getting to know her – or someone – would just mean I would miss her. Why complicate things?

"You think that's her real number?"

"I have no idea."


Let me know what you think.
The next chapter will be up in a week or so.