Somewhere I Belong

There is an Author's note at the bottom. All of my author's notes will be at the bottom. I will post an alert if they are super important. Thanks! :D

Story Details: (I got this layout from River Winter's story "Song Remains the Same". You should totally check it out!)

Title: Somewhere I Belong

Rating: For now, the story will be rated T. It may eventually turn into an M rating, but I don't want to rate it as M so early in the story. If I do change the rating, I'll let you know.

Disclaimer: I own nothing concerning the show or franchise of Supernatural. I do not own these characters, except for Autumn and the others that I make up. I do not own the plot line, except for the things that I change. I do not own the actors (although the thought of owning them is nice).

Spoilers/Warnings: This story will have spoilers. If you haven't watched at least up to season two, please don't read this and then complain about spoilers. THIS IS YOUR SPOILER ALERT! There will be deaths in this story, but there will also be some people sticking around. Some chapters will be very long, others will only be ~2,000 - ~3,000 words. It all depends on the chapter, and I hope that's okay with you.

Parings: There will be SamxOC and DeanxOC pairings, and each S.O. will have their backstory, and their history with the brothers.

Summary:

The Winchester family has been plagued with an unavoidable destiny, and averting it left the world in chaos. The dominoes fell, and the effect was catastrophic. One girl is determined to change everything, and with the help of some friends in high places, she travels back in time to save the world and – more importantly – her family from complete destruction.

(Lots of character backstory, Winchester children, Altered story line, etc)

Somewhere I Belong

I am a poor, wayfaring stranger
Traveling through this world alone
And there's no sickness, toil or danger
In that bright land to which I go

.Chapter One: Wayfaring Stranger.

February, 2010

Dean wanted to swear as the cry tore from Abigail's throat. She had been at this for twelve hours already, and he could see that she was exhausted. He knew it sounded terrible, but he was hoping that when this moment came, he wouldn't have to be in the room with her. He wasn't comfortable offering comfort to others, and he was under the assumption that Bonnie would be here by now. The rain had trapped her two towns away, and she had to wait for it to clear before she could start traveling again. It was a shame, because she'd definitely do a better job than he was. All he could do was hold Abby's hand as wave-after-wave of contractions hit her.

The doctor was at the end of the bed, encouraging her to push harder, but all he was accomplishing was being a nuisance. Dean was resisting the urge to punch the guy in the face, but if he kept saying push, Dean didn't know how long his patience would last. He was almost certain that Abby wanted to shoot lasers out of her eyes at him, because she didn't have much patience either, and her temper was worse than Dean's. Luckily for them, the little tenant finally decided to evacuate her nine-month residence. So, on February 19, 2010 at 7:57am, the Winchester clan gained another member.

The nurses took her away to clean her up, but Dean couldn't help but notice the expression on her mother's face. Abby wore the same look that he had seen his mother give him as a child. Her hair was wet with sweat, and her face was red and splotchy. She looked like she were ready to pass out any moment, but when she saw her baby for the first time, Dean saw pure adoration. Seeing this scene should have made him happier than anything else, but it didn't. He couldn't be happy, even though he wanted to, because there was something missing from this picture.

It shouldn't be him here, admiring the way Abby looked at her newborn daughter. It shouldn't be him who held her hand throughout the labor and delivery. He should have been waiting – impatiently, of course – in the lobby. Everything that he has done throughout the nine months should be what Sam should have done. She was Sam's daughter. Abby was Sam's girl. Dean thought of Abby as a sister, and he would love that little girl with his entire being, but he wasn't meant to play the role of her father. He was supposed to be the fun uncle. He was supposed to introduce her to Zeppelin, and teach her how to be cool, because God knows Sam couldn't do that.

But that wouldn't happen. It couldn't happen, because Sam was locked in the cage – because his family had a destiny, and it was their job to save the world. That little girl would get the short end of the stick because the fates had decided to screw them over. Well, he wouldn't let that happen. He would be the best damn uncle he could be. If she needed a father figure, it would be him. That little girl would be the most loved little girl in the entire world. She would be the safest little girl in the entire world. More importantly, she wouldn't be raised like he was. He would break the cycle, and give her the safe and normal life that Sam had always wanted for himself. She would know who her father was, and how he saved the world.

He returned his attention to Abby, and saw how happy she looked when they handed her the baby. He also saw how the happiness was short lived when she remembered that Sam should be there. It took forever for her to accept that he wasn't coming back, and when she did it almost crushed her completely, but she had vowed to him that she would be strong for her child. She smiled at Dean, and asked if he wanted to hold her. He was going to say no, mainly because the child was still crying, but he consented at the last moment. He knew that once Bonnie arrived, he wouldn't get a chance to hold his niece. He chuckled at the thought, and positioned his arms to cradle the baby.

Dean was impressed at the set of lungs on the tiny little thing. She cried for a few seconds, and he nervously bounced her around a little, and she began to settle down. He smiled down at the baby, and decided that she was actually kind of cute. She was still quite pink, but when he expressed his concern Abby told him it was normal. She had a cute little patch of hair on her head, and it was the same color as Abby's. Her eyes were a pretty, bright blue color. They looked exactly like his mother's eyes. Everything else about her looked like Sam, Dean noted.

"She's beautiful," Dean said.

"She is," Abby replied softly.

She had already snuggled into Dean's chest and she was falling asleep. "Hey, look at that. She likes me!" he said sarcastically.

Abby let out a soft chuckle. "Oh come on Dean, I'm sure you're great with kids. Don't put up a front," she said.

He smiled and looked at the baby in his arms. "So, have you thought about what you're going to name her?" he asked.

"There are a few names I like, but I'm not sure. None of them seem right," she replied.

"Well, Dean is an awesome name," he teased.

"I'm not naming her Dean, but that was a nice joke," she replied.

He rolled his eyes and pulled a chair next to the hospital bed. "I'm sure it'll come to you soon," he said. He gently rubbed his thumb on her hair, amazed at how soft it was. "I just can't believe she has so much hair already."

"I had a lot of hair as a baby, too," Abby mused.

"Red like autumn leaves," he said with a smile. That's was the line Sam had used on her once, to try and flirt. Dean had thought it was stupid, but Abby thought it was sweet. They were all drunk at the time, so they hardly remembered it the next day.

"I like that," she said.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Autumn," she answered. "Her name is Autumn – Autumn Deanna Winchester."

Dean smiled at the fact that Abby honored him by using the name Deanna, and handed Autumn back to her mother. He would definitely need to call Bobby and tell him about the newest member of the family. He looked out the window and saw that the rain had stopped, so Bonnie would probably be on her way as well. He looked to the light shining from the street lamp, and he could have sworn he saw a tall figure standing there. It looked just like his brother, but when he looked back at the spot, the figure was gone. He shook his head and decided that he needed to stop drinking so much.

2020

She could hear them overhead. They were here, and they were so close to finding her. She knew they could smell her, but it didn't matter. She was almost finished with the ritual. All she needed was one minute more for the eclipse to be perfectly centered. If she didn't do this correctly, it was hard to tell how long before she got this opportunity again. She could hear them on the steps now – she had to hurry. Tears fell from her eyes as she thought how upset her parents' would be, but she was doing this for them. She was doing this for everyone on Earth.

Her fingers shook as she tried to light the match. It took her three tries, but she finally got it. The door to the basement burst open just as she got the match lit.

"There's our girl," the eerily calm voice said.

She didn't reply. She simply smirked before tossing the match into the bowl. There was a spark, and she felt like she was turning into the light. She felt absolutely weightless, and white-hot. She didn't hear the monsters anymore, though. She didn't anticipate how much energy it would take for her to do this, and by the time she was on the ground again, she was ready to pass out. All she could make out was the sound of many people talking and the humid air was already dampening her skin. It made her feel like a child again, and it reminded her of when her parents took her to visit her grandmother. She was only three, but she remembered it like it was yesterday.

As her eyes closed, the picture of her family stayed behind her lids. In this moment, she wasn't sure if the ritual worked or not, but she was content either way.

New Orleans, 2005

Miss, are you okay?

She groaned as the voice reached her ears.

Can you sit? Let me help you.

She tried opening her eyes, but the sun was too bright. There was a shadow hovering over her. Please, let the ritual have worked. Please don't let them be leviathans. Her eyes adjusted to the light, and she could see a woman standing over her. She looked to be a normal human being, but she couldn't be entirely sure. The woman gave her a kind smile and lowered her hand.

"Let me help you up," she said.

She narrowed her eyes at the woman, but eventually gave up and let the kind lady help her up. She was next to a busy street, and there were rows of houses positioned close together.

"Where am I?" she asked.

The woman's expression was confused, and she said; "You're in the French Quarter. Are you okay, sweetie?"

"I'm fine, thank you," she said.

"Are you sure?" the woman asked, skeptically.

Autumn nodded her head. "Yeah, but I'm pretty out of it. Can you just tell me what today is?" she asked.

The woman nodded. "Yeah, it's October 23," she said.

"And the year?" Autumn asked.

"2005," the woman replied.

Autumn smiled and thanked the woman. She picked her bag up from the ground and gave a little wave at the confused woman, who was still looking suspiciously at Autumn, before running to the nearest little diner she could find. She needed a plan – she needed somewhere to sit and think. She had her uncle's journal in her bag, and she needed to read it to figure out where he would be. She was also starving. Her cousin had told her that she could eat whatever she wanted here. She knew she didn't have to worry about SucroCorp or Dick Roman yet, but she was still nervous.

She had only been around four when all of the processed foods became contaminated, so she didn't really remember what they were like. She did know that she missed pie – which was something that her uncle got her hooked on, much to her father's annoyance. She found a small diner that was just opening for the morning, and stepped inside. She was definitely out of her element, but all she really needed to do was find a phone book and figure out where Dean was. The waitress smiled at her from behind the counter, and she returned it as she found a booth towards the back of the restaurant.

The waitress brought a menu and a glass of water to the table only a few seconds later, and told Autumn to take her time deciding. She was so nice, and it was liberating – if not a bit frightening – to see everyone so carefree. They literally knew nothing about what could be out there. This year was so different than the year she came from, where everyone was leviathan until proven human. When the waitress returned, she gave her order – fresh fruit and a glass of iced tea – and pulled her uncles journal from her bag. She flipped it to the first few pages, and read through them. Some of the earlier entries told of hunts that Dean had gone on with his dad after Sam left, but she eventually got to the entries from 2005.

She ate quickly once the waitress brought her food, and tried not to get the juice from the fruit on the pages. The journal wasn't exactly organized by month – of course Uncle Dean couldn't be bothered to do that – but at least he got the years in order. She popped a strawberry in her mouth and her eyes closed on their own accord. How long had it been since she had eaten? She shook her head and returned her attention to the pages in front of her. There was the story about the werewolf he dispatched in August of this year, and then there were several haunted houses he fixed in September. After flipping through the entire year of 2005, she finally found the entry for October. Almost all of it was spent in New Orleans – where she was now – taking care of a voodoo problem.

That's really all it said. She huffed in annoyance. Leave it to uncle Dean to withhold information when she absolutely needed it. What was it Dean told her – first motel room under the name Jim Rockford? She could always try that one first. If that didn't work, she'd scour the city for the black impala, and pray to God that he hadn't skipped town yet.

She dug through her bag for the money she had taken from the safe in her mom's closet. Money was all but useless in her time, but her mom still kept some in the safe. Just in case, she would say. She took out enough to pay for the food, and still leave a decent tip for the waitress, before leaving the diner. It probably wasn't even noon yet, but the humidity in the air was stifling. She pulled her copper-colored hair into a ponytail as she walked to the nearest phone booth. She flipped to the yellow pages of the phone book inside, and found the Arête Hotel was the first listing. She wrote the address on her hand, and started her walk to the hotel.

The hotel was only about a mile away from the heart of the French quarter. That was the good news. The bad news was that when she got there, the familiar Impala was parked outside. She smiled when she saw Baby, but frowned when she realized this meant she'd need to wait for him to leave. He wouldn't wrap up this case for another week or so – she knew that for certain – but it still made her nervous to have to wait. She found a newspaper to leaf through, and took a seat on the bench across the road. This could definitely take a while, so she busied herself with looking busy, while inconspicuously keeping an eye on the door to his room.

One hour; that's how long it took for him to leave the room. She was getting a cramp in her butt from sitting for so long, but patience is a virtue. Her eyes widened when she saw him. He looked so damn young in this year! She definitely knew that he would be younger – that's common sense – but it didn't hit her how different he would look. There was no ragged expression on his face. Yes, he was focused, but he still looked so unburdened. He didn't look like a man who had spent time in Hell, or stopped the end of the world, or faced off against leviathans and crazy angels.

That's because it hasn't happened yet, she reminded herself. He paid her absolutely no mind as he drove by, with a small smirk on his face. She waited another fifteen minutes, to make sure he wasn't coming back, and then walked to the hotel. He was in room 12. The door faced the road, and it would make picking the lock so much more difficult. She needed to act normal – like she was using a key. There was no reason to be nervous. Nobody would question her motives during this year – they would have no reason to. The general population wasn't so paranoid yet.

When she finally got the door open, she carefully stepped inside, and surveyed her surroundings. On the right side of the room, a bed was lined up against the wall. It wasn't made, but that wasn't surprising. Her uncle Dean had never been one to make his bed. They had that in common. The carpet was dingy and rust-colored. The curtains on the window were dirty and smelled of nicotine. The only other furniture in the room was a hardback chair and a cluttered, veneer table pressed against the far wall. This room was definitely not five-star, but Dean had taken it upon himself to add some decorations. The walls were plastered with news clippings and maps. He was tracking something.

Autumn looked around the room at the pages pinned to the walls. These were all about his voodoo case – three people turned up missing just this week, but they were only the most recent. There had been many before them, and cases like this attracted Winchesters like honey attracted flies. Dean seemed to be alone, though, so his dad has probably cut off contact by now. She noticed a silver tape recorder on the bed, and picked it up. She pressed play, and listened to the static filled message.

Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger.

She had to rewind it several times, and replay it to really hear what the voice was saying. She could only assume that this was John – the grandfather she had never met – but she couldn't be certain. There was EVP on this tape. She let it play until it ran out of tape, and she heard something else. It sounded like someone had cleaned up the audio, and isolated the EVP. This time, it was a woman's voice saying that she could never go home. It was creepy, but so much less intimidating than what she was used to dealing with. She tossed the recorder back to the bed once the tape finished playing, and waited.

She knew from experience that up-front-and-truthful was the best method when it came to dealing with her uncle Dean. She just hoped that his younger self had a little bit of faith. He wasn't as experienced as he was in the future, but that didn't mean he was green to this life either. He had seen his fair share of weird. She tried her best to look unthreatening, which shouldn't have been difficult. He was at least twenty-six in this time, and she was a sixteen year old girl. She was strong, and she had all the training that he did, but Dean would never be intimidated by her. She sat in the hard plastic chair and waited.

It didn't take long for him to come back. The moment she heard the familiar sound of the Impala's engine, she was on full alert. Her heartbeat sped up, and she was suddenly aware of the heat in the room. The air conditioner was obviously broken, though it didn't surprise her. Time seemed to move in slow motion as the door to the room opened. Dean wasn't looking in her direction when he entered, but she knew he could sense when something was off with the room. His head snapped up, and his eyes met hers. She saw his mood shift from passive to suspicious – and a bit hostile – in a matter of only seconds. His eyes narrowed at her.

"Who the hell are you, and why are you here?" he asked.

Suddenly, she wasn't sure that this was such a good idea. She had no plan of action if things went wrong, and she couldn't let him shoot her. That failure would definitely go down in history. She needed to make him lower the gun at least, so she held her hands out in a peaceful gesture. She slowly stood, and tried to keep her facial expression as benign as possible. Her uncle Dean, however, didn't show any emotion. He was good at that.

"Please, don't shoot me," she said.

"Give me one good reason why," he replied.

"Because, I'm not here to hurt you," she said.

He scoffed. "Yeah, like I haven't heard that one before," he replied.

"It's true," she added. "If you don't believe me, then you should test me. I'm not supernatural – I'm just a girl."

He narrowed his eyes, but kept the gun on her as he moved to his bag. He pulled out a container of salt, a silver knife, and holy water. He motioned for her to hold out her hand, and he sprinkled some salt into it. She licked the salt off her hand, and washed it down with a swig of holy water. Afterwards she rolled up her sleeve and made a cut across her lower arm, close to her wrist. None of these negatively affected her, and he seemed reassured that she wasn't a monster.

"See, I told you. I'm not a monster," she said as she wrapped a bandage around her wrist.

"Okay, so you're not supernatural. That doesn't explain what you're doing here," he said.

She paused a moment, and that was enough to peak his interest. He looked at her with raised eyebrows, and she sighed. "I was sent here, to protect you," she said.

There was a short pause, and then he laugh. This asshat was actually laughing at her. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, and he seemed to understand that she wasn't joking. The stupid smirk still wouldn't leave his face, but he managed to hold in his laughter long enough to say; "You were sent to protect me? From where?"

"Not where; when," she replied.

"Oh, it just keeps getting better," he said before chuckling again. "Look, sweetie, I don't know who you think you are, but I don't need your help. I can take care of myself."

She scoffed and shook her head. "I can prove it," she said.

"Oh yeah? How?" he asked.

She walked to her bag that was next to the chair, and she lifted it onto the table. She rifled through it until she found what she was looking for. A small photograph, with one end slightly frayed, was sticking up from the journal. She took it out, and handed it to him.

The lineup was simple; it was the same picture that her aunt insisted they take every year on Dean's birthday. They all stood in the same places every time, no matter where they were. It was always her brother and her, standing in front of their parents to the far left. Then, her cousins would stand in front of Dean and Bonnie to the right side of the picture. There was always a blue-eyed angel in a trench coat standing somewhere. His spot was never fixed in the photograph. Autumn always had a small smile on her face, and her father's hand always rested on her shoulder. It was one of the only times their family would look normal.

Dean looked at the photograph for a few moments, and then glanced at her before narrowing his eyes, and returning it to the photograph. He and Sam looked older in the picture, sure, but they were still recognizable. They actually aged quite well, if she did say so herself. After looking at the photo for a few more moments, he handed it back to her.

He had an odd expression on his face, and said; "Look, I don't know what you want, but I don't need your help. If you really are family from the future, which gets more ridiculous every time I hear it, I don't want you to help me anyway. It'd be too dangerous, and I've kind of got a lot on my plate right now. So, get back in your DeLorean and fly away home, because I'm fine."

He moved to the door to open it for her, but she crossed the room and closed it. He looked surprised, but she didn't give him a chance to say anything. "You listen to me," she began, "I just traveled roughly fifteen years to the past, and I'm exhausted. The future I live in is pure hell, and if you think I'm going back there without accomplishing something here, you're sadly mistaken. I don't care if yo u want my help or not – I'm helping! I'll help from the sidelines if I have to, but I'm helping you either way. Now you can either accept it, or you can push me away, but I have to stop the future from becoming what it is."

He was stunned to silence for a few moments, but he finally recovered his ability to speak, and said; "Fine."

"Wait, what?" she asked.

"I said fine. If you're so hell bent to help, far be it from me to stop you, but we're going to have some rules here, understand?" he asked.

"What rules?" she asked.

"Rule number one – you do what I say, when I say it. I'm in charge here. If I tell you to stay in the hotel, you don't leave it. Rule number two – we don't tell Sam about any of this until I say it's okay. He doesn't need to have the fact that he has a daughter dropped on him all at once. You're on probation until I'm absolutely certain that you can be trusted. Do we understand each other?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes sir," she said.

He paused and said; "Add one more rule: Don't call me sir."

She nodded and said; "Those sound fair, but I have some rules of my own."

He looked confused. "Like what?" he asked.

"Rule number one – I know the outcome if I fail, so I will do anything to make sure that doesn't happen. You have no idea what the future has in store for you, which leads me to my second rule – I can't tell you much of anything when it comes to what's happening. I will most likely, inevitably, break that rule concerning some things. Rule number three – if I tell you that you can't know something, you have to trust me that it's for a good reason," she said.

He thought it over for a moment. She could see the gears turning in his head. "Okay, fine," he said.

She smiled and gave him a hug. It was out of pure habit. "Thank you uncle Dean!" she said.

He awkwardly patted her on the back, and said; "Maybe you should just call me Dean for now."

She nodded and agreed. He explained to her how he had just finished up the case here, and told her that he was getting ready to go pay Sam a visit at Stanford. She knew he wasn't letting her in on the fact that his dad was missing, but she commented on it anyway. He wasn't too happy that she knew so much, but she wanted to get all that she could out in the open.

"Okay, if we're going to make it to Stanford any time soon, we need to hit the road," he said.

"Sure thing, but let's grab something to eat before we hit the road. I'm starving," she replied.

He smirked and led the way to the Impala. She was happy to see that at least some things didn't change.

Riding shotgun with her uncle Dean had always been something she enjoyed. He loved the open road, and he was always in a better mood with the open road stretched out in front of him. They were similar in that way. She had come to love the easy drives she took with her uncle or father. Even though her uncle didn't know her during this time, the drive in the Impala wasn't very awkward. He was still tense, but her calm attitude in the Impala seemed to ease his mood a little. They must have driven for at least ten hours straight, only stopping for gas or snacks, and they finally got to Albuquerque when it was completely dark outside. She had fallen asleep, and was unable to keep him awake by talking.

After stopping in Albuquerque and staying for a few nights, they made it to Palo Alto on Autumn's third day in 2005. Palo Alto looked incredibly different than it did in her time. In her time, the city was all but destroyed, and the people had been relocated to Newark, just across the bay from Palo Alto. Her dad had been upset to see that the town where he lived his normal life had been reduced to shambles in such a short amount of time. At the moment – in 2005 – the town was beautiful. It was a nice college city, with nightlife and tons of attractions to see, but Autumn was reduced to staying in the motel room. She still wasn't happy about her uncle leaving her here, and not even letting her meet her father before they left for Jericho.

She knew he didn't fully trust her, but leaving her behind like this made her feel like she was a little kid again. She would always be left behind with her mother and aunt, but she would be chomping at the bit to go help. Her uncle and father were both determined to give her as normal a childhood as they could, but that all went out the window when she was eight, and the leviathans took her younger sister. Then, she had to learn how to fight, and she was good at it, much to her father's dismay. He never wanted that for his children. Right now, all Sam wants is to live a safe happy life with his girlfriend Jess.

When she thought of that, she knew what she had to do. She knew exactly what would rearrange time and keep everything bad from happening. She just had to save Jess. Jessica Moore was the key to everything. That meant Autumn wouldn't be born, but it was a small price to pay to make sure her father was happy. Things would go back to normal, Sam would take the law school interview, and he would be a good lawyer. He would have a family with Jess, and his future kids wouldn't have anything to worry about. He wouldn't tell them about the supernatural. Now all she needed was a plan.

She knew the brothers would be back by tomorrow, which didn't give her much time to think of anything. She was pacing the length of the motel room, and talking to herself. If anyone were there at the moment, they would have thought she was crazy.

"I could just tell her that she was in danger, but she'd most likely call the cops on me," Autumn mumbled to herself. "I could wait near their apartment door, and see if anything suspicious happens," she added. She shook her head. Neither of those plans were good. She thought until the sun began to set, and she got a text from Dean saying he were on his way back to Palo Alto. She had decided on her plan, and now it was time to set it into action.

It was hell waiting for Jess to leave, but she finally did. She had two baskets full of laundry with her, which meant Autumn probably only had an hour or so while Jess did her laundry. She waited until Jess' car was out of sight before rushing up the back stairs and reaching Sam's apartment door. She used her lock pick to open the door and stepped inside, before locking it back. She looked around the apartment, and tried to find places to stash protection charms. There was a rug in front of the door. She could make a small devil's trap on the bottom side of it. She found a roll of duct tape in the kitchen drawer, and got to work making the outline of the devil's trap. When she was finished, she began strategically placing the charms throughout the apartment.

She placed charms everywhere. They weren't super powerful charms. She had actually gone to the local supercenter and found the aisle with all the accessories, and bought as many as she could find. She was certain that the cashier thought she was going to summon something evil. If only she knew that it was the exact opposite. These charms weren't ideal for protection, but it was the best she could do on such short notice. They would work until Sam got back, and could protect Jess himself. After she placed all the charms where they needed to go, she prepared to leave, when something caught her eye. It was a picture of Jess and Sam together, and they looked so happy. They were standing on the beach, and their arms were wrapped around each other.

Any doubts Autumn had about her plan were squashed when she saw that. He would be happy, and he would be none the wiser about her or his future destiny. She just needed to remind herself of that. She must have been lost in her own little world, because she was broken out of her thoughts by the sound of the apartment's front door unlocking. She started to panic, and tried to think of a way to escape. The only way would be through the bedroom window and down the fire escape. She ran to the bedroom just as the front door was opening, and made it to the window. She opened it and climbed out, but accidentally knocked a vase over with her bag. She quickly closed the window just as Jess rushed into the bedroom. She waited until Jess left to climb down the fire escape and make her way back to the motel room.

When she got to the motel room, she noticed that the clock on the wall said 11pm. Dean and Sam should be back in Palo Alto soon, and she should rest if she wants to avoid sleeping in the passenger seat of the Impala for three hours. She didn't even bother changing into her shorts and tank top. She just threw her bag onto the chair by the window and kicked off her shoes before dropping herself onto the bed. She was out like a light as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Autumn woke to someone hitting her foot. "Hey, sleeping beauty, let's go," she heard someone say.

She looked up to gather her surroundings. It took her a moment, after the dream she had, but she finally remembered. She was in Palo Alto, and her uncle was annoyingly hitting her foot to wake her up. She kicked at his hand before standing up and adjusting her clothes. She yawned, and willed her eyes to focus so she could find her shoes.

"Get a move on. We're leaving," Dean said.

"Okay, okay," she replied, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Dean, what the hell? She's like, twelve," someone else said.

Autumn froze. That was her dad's voice – she'd recognize it anywhere. Why was he here? Why wasn't he with Jessica in their apartment? What happened? "I'm sixteen, actually," she replied, trying to keep her cool.

Once she got a better look at him, she could see that his eyes were rimmed with red, and his face was splotchy. He had been crying, but now – judging by the set of his jaw and the coldness of his eyes – he was angry, and he didn't trust her. She put her shoes on and grabbed her bag before running her fingers through her hair. She didn't have time to brush it properly.

"Sam, this is Autumn…" he said, trailing off and looking at her. He didn't have a last name to give him, since telling Sam that her last name was Winchester would make him suspicious.

She reached out her hand, and Sam eventually shook it. "Autumn Meijer," she said, giving her mother's maiden name instead.

"Sam Winchester," he replied. "Dean, can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked.

Dean told her to wait there, and stepped outside of the motel door. She didn't waste any time once the door was closed before she ran to it and listened to what they were saying.

"Dean, are you out of your mind?" he asked.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked.

She heard Sam huff and say; "Dude, she's total jailbate!"

"It's not like that, okay," Dean replied.

"The what's it like?" Sam asked.

"She's a hunter. I'm just helping her out. She's going to help us find dad, I promise," he said.

There was a pause, and Sam said; "How do we know that we can trust her?"

Dean didn't say anything. He just told Sam to wait in the car, and that he would be there as soon as he checked out. He opened the door and told Autumn to come with him, and she did. They were walking to the lobby, and Dean looked like he desperately wanted to say something, but he didn't know how to say it the right way. Finally he sighed, and shook his head, so she decided to help him out a bit.

"Uncle Dean, what happened?" she asked, accidentally letting the word uncle slip into her sentence. "Sorry," she said.

"Look, if you're going to work with us, you can't be calling me uncle, understand?" he asked.

"I know. It was an accident. I'm sorry," she replied.

"Sam's girlfriend is dead," he replied. Autumn must have looked shocked, because he added; "Why do you look so surprised. You know our futures, so you must've known this would happen."

"Yeah, I did. That's why I broke into their apartment earlier and decked it out with warding sigils and devils traps. I put charms and protection symbols all over that apartment. How in the hell did she die?" Autumn asked.

Dean shrugged and said; "It's the yellow-eyed demon. He's more powerful than a normal, run of the mill baddie. I thought I told you to stay in the room."

"I couldn't let her die, Dean," she replied.

"Why is that, by the way?" he asked. She looked confused, and asked him what he meant. "If she never died, then you would never be born. Isn't that kind of suicidal?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I didn't care," she said. "Saving Jessica Moore would have stopped the entirety of your crappy future, and that alone would have been worth not being born. But mostly, I just wanted my dad to be happy."

"So you'd give up everything for Sam, just because you want him to be happy?" Dean asked.

She nodded. "Yes, that's exactly what I'd do," she replied. "And it's not only Sam – it's you too. You're my family, and you don't deserve the pain that your future will bring."

He looked disturbed by this information about his future, but chose not to comment on it. Instead, he simply said; "Maybe it's a good thing you're here after all, little red."

She rolled her eyes at the nickname and walked back to the Impala while Dean checked out of the motel. She wasn't lying. She would do anything to protect her family. It was a Winchester trait that she had inherited, much to her mother's dismay, and she carried it with pride. It was honorable, and maybe a little bit stupid, but she wasn't about to change now. She was in way too deep. She opened the back door to the Impala and climbed in, laying her head on the window after the door closed. She didn't speak to Sam, and pretended that she didn't see him wiping his eyes. This was the only sadness he was going to feel. She would make sure of that. If only she knew at the time how futile her attempts would be.

A/N: You guys, this is the longest chapter I have ever written for any fanfiction EVER. It took weeks (with months of planning before that), and I'm actually quite proud of it. This is the only chapter that will be set in Season 1, and I hope you don't mind that. I'll do flashbacks to Season 1 in future chapters, but we'll probably just pick up with Season 2. I have most of the episodes outlined, and I'm trying so hard not to mess up the brotherly dynamic between Sam and Dean by adding my own character. I hope you'll enjoy this, and I hope you've stuck with me so far. lol. I know the chapter is long, and I'm hoping for the others to be somewhere around this length, but we'll just wait and see how it goes.

Published: 4/16/2014 at 10:37AM (Updated 5/24/2014 at 7:22PM)