Disclaimer: The characters of Supernatural do not belong to me. The original character of Janie Adams does.

A/N: I'm still iffy on whether or not I'm going to complete this story, but the idea is intriguing to me. Note of warning-the story is rated M for mentions of the abuse of a child. If that offends or could possibly trigger you, don't read ahead.

I am still working on Never Say Never Again. I start school soon, so please be patient; updates may be slow.

Chapter One

"Alright, guys. I'm going to bed."

"Night, Janie." Sam said at the same time Dean replied, "Night, kiddo."

"I should be out of your guys' hair in the next couple days."

"Janie, we said it and we meant it. You can stay as long as you want." Sam assured her.

"You keep making pie like this, you got a home forever." Dean said.

Janie laughed. Dean was on the fourth piece of the strawberry pie she'd made earlier that night. "Eat up, Dean. Glad you like it. Goodnight, fellas."

Janie walked down the hall and into the spare room that Sam had given her when she'd come home with them two weeks earlier. She changed into the same PJs she slept in every night. Dean liked to tease her for them, but she never slept well without them. Red sweatpants with a bright green long sleeve flannel shirt that was three sizes too big for her. The sweatpants she had found at a yard sale years earlier, but she fell asleep thinking about how she'd gotten the shirt.

The truck rumbled along, the landscape blurring together in one long streak of green. Janie's head rested against the truck window, her mind not allowing her to think of anything but the last few days. The man in the driver's seat was virtually a stranger to her. She'd never even heard of John Milton a week earlier, and she was fairly certain that wasn't his real name. But she didn't care. He'd rescued her, pulled her out of the hell she'd been in for the last four years.

"You're quiet."

Janie jumped, and her heart started racing.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay." Janie said quietly. "I'm just not used to anyone talking nicely to me anymore."

John frowned. "I guess you're not, are you? That's all about to change." He noticed she was shaking. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"No you're not. You're shaking." John said. "You're safe now, honey."

"'m not scared." Janie murmured. "Cold."

Of course she's cold, you idiot, John thought to himself. They had left her house with nothing but the clothes on her back and a couple of photographs of her mother that Janie wanted. John slowed down a little and pointed to the floorboard in front of Janie.

"See that duffel bag right there? Open the top flap."

Janie, curious about what he was doing but not used to questioning anything, listened.

"There's some warm shirts in there. Pick one out and put it on."

"I don't want to take your clothes…" Janie protested.

"You'll freeze if you don't." John said. "Go ahead, sweetie. It's okay."

Janie picked one up she liked right away. It was bright green, her favorite color. It was way too big, fitting over more like a blanket than a shirt. She instantly relaxed, but only for a moment. The warmth only allowed her to think even more about the last week. John picked up on what her mind wandering meant right away.

"You want to talk?"

Janie shrugged. "What do I say?"

"How about how you're feeling?"

"Hurt. Scared. Embarrassed." Janie said.

"Embarrassed? Why?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Janie asked.

"Listen to me." John said. "None of this, none of it, is your fault. It is only the fault of that son of a bitch that called himself your father."

"But he is my father." Janie said.

John pulled the truck over to the side of the road, and Janie couldn't help but back up against the door as much as she could. She knew in her head he wouldn't hurt her, but years of experience had taught her to be cautious. John, aware of how anxious she was, didn't move any closer towards her, but he didn't move away either.

"Sweetheart, look. I can't convince you it wasn't your fault. But think about this. Your mother loved you so much that she came back from the grave to make sure that he couldn't hurt you anymore. To her, you were everything. If you start to doubt yourself, or you start to feel scared or alone, just think about that."

"Do you think she's still watching out for me?" Janie asked. "Even though it's over?"

"I have no doubt." John said.

Janie was silent for a moment, then asked, "This couple you're taking me to? They know…everything?"

"Jack and Marissa are friends of mine. They've always wanted to adopt an older kid. They were both foster kids their whole childhoods, and want to help make a better life for other kids in the same boat. They're good people, and they'll take care of you." John said.

"What about…?"

"They'll help you decide what to do about that." He said.

Janie sighed. "You're sons are lucky."

John laughed. "Can I tell them you said that?"

"You should call your youngest. Let him know you still care about him. It…hurts not to hear it." Janie said. "I would've taken all the beatings, all the...everything, if he'd just told me one time that he loved me. And meant it."

"I promise I'll think about it." John said. "You ready to get back on the road?"

"Sure." Janie said. "You want your shirt back when we get there?"

"No. You keep it." John said. "Let's go."

"Hey, since you pretty much know everything about me now, will you answer something for me?" Janie asked.

"Sure. What is it?"

"What's your name? Your real name?" Janie asked.

John smiled. "Winchester. John Winchester."

Janie's alarm woke her up with a start. She had forgotten to turn it off, and reached over, annoyed. When she did, she noticed three missed calls, all from the same number. There was also a voicemail, one that made her heart stop in her chest and her breath leave her lungs.

Janie, it's AJ. I'm sorry to do this over voicemail, but I've tried to call you three times. This is going to hit the news, and I'm not going to be able to stop it. Janie, your mom and dad are dead, and we don't know where Sabrina is. Call me the second you get this. You need to come home. Now.

Janie was up and dressed in under five minutes, packed in under ten. She wiped tears away as she worked, frantic to get on the road. She came into the kitchen where Sam and Dean were eating breakfast. She didn't give them a chance to ask her what was wrong.

"I need your help."

"What's wrong?" Sam asked.

"Um, I need to go home. Now. Today. "

"Kiddo, what is it?" Dean asked. "You look spooked."

"Do you remember when I told you I was adopted?"

"Yeah." Dean said.

Janie sighed. "What I didn't tell you was how I ended up with my adoptive parents."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"It, um…" Janie swallowed hard. "It was your dad."

"Our dad? What does that mean?" Dean asked.

"The last case he took before he went to Jericho? It was mine." Sam and Dean both looked at each other, mouths gaped open in shock. "Guys, listen. The couple that your dad took me to? My adoptive parents? They're dead. And no one knows where my little sister is."

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"Can I please tell you in the car?" Janie asked. "It's a long drive, I promise I'll tell you the whole story. Just, please, please come with me. I need your help."

"Okay. We will. We'll get packed up and be on the road in ten." Dean said.

"Thank you." Janie said. "Thank you."

"We'll help you figure this out." Sam said. "Whatever it is."

Janie nodded, and Sam, noticing that she was shaking, stood up and went to give her a hug. Janie accepted it gratefully, using Sam as a life raft. Because at the moment, she was drowning.