Don't own Supernatural
Chapter One: Dad's On a Hunting Trip
It was a quiet night for the Waters family on October 23, 1983, in Lawrence, Kansas. The Water's only daughter, Georgia, had just turned six months old. Lillian Waters, Georgia's mother, a thin woman with long black hair and sparkling green eyes, was holding Georgia in the nursery, saying goodnight to her daughter.
"Goodnight sweetie," she said, kissing Georgia's forehead, "I love you," she put Georgia down in her crib, "Can't believe you're getting so big," she whispered to herself as she turned on the nightlight and turned off the light and left the room. She went down the hallway to her room where her husband, Scott Waters, a man with blond hair and blue eyes, was already asleep, snoring.
Lillian chuckled to herself as she climb into bed. While the couple slept on, the nursery lights were flickering. Not long after that, the baby monitor was making noises that definitely did not belong to a baby. Lillian was woken by the noises, though Scott slept on, maternal instincts, she thought to herself. She got up to check on the baby and went to the nursery when she saw a man, who was definitely not Scott, standing next to Georgia.
Back in the bedroom, Lillian's screams woke up Scott. He ran to the nursery, yelling out, "Lillian!", but when he got to the nursery, he didn't see anyone. He checked to make sure Georgia was okay but saw a thick, red liquid drip down onto the sheets. Scott looked up and saw his wife with a look of terror on her face, pinned to the ceiling, her stomach slashed, and struggling to breathe.
"Lillian!" Scott exclaimed, No no no no, he kept thinking, praying to God that this was just some horrible nightmare, but this nightmare became all too real when Lillian burst into flames. Knowing there was no chance of saving Lillian, Scott took a crying Georgia from her crib and ran outside, not caring about the firefighters who had arrived and looked up at the house, desperate to know what killed his wife.
22 YEARS LATER
A now 22-year-old George Waters was sitting in the passenger's seat of Dean Winchester's '67 Chevrolet Impala. Dean Winchester was one of the more permanent friends she's had for her life, due to the whole 'hunting' thing that her dad had gotten into due to her mother's death. Even though that's how Dean's family got into hunting, that wasn't how they met. They're families had known each other since before they were born, so it was inevitable that when both their dads had gotten into hunting, their dads wouldn't go on hunts together because they were both hunting for the same thing. They were such good friends that, when Scott died on a hunting trip, John Winchester was made George's legal, well, as legal as you can get when you're a hunter, guardian.
George had grown to look just like her mother. She had her mother's long black hair and green eyes that didn't sparkle as much as her mother's seemed to in the pictures. They seemed to be quite dull as a matter-of-fact. You could see her standing next to her father, but you wouldn't be able to tell they were related without prior knowledge.
Right now they were trying to get Dean's younger but still somehow-much-taller-than-him, brother, Sam, to help them find John. He had gone on a hunting trip and hadn't been home for a long time.
"You do realize that he's going to say no," George reminded Dean.
"What makes you say that Georgey?" Dean asked with his annoying smirk.
Growling at the nickname, George started, "Well, you're plan is to break into his apartment, ask him to help you do a job he hates and help him find a man who he left on pretty bad terms with, so, yeah, he's probably going to say no."
"Ah, don't be a pessimist George."
"I'm not a pessimist," George pouted, crossing her arms, "I'm a realist," Dean laughed, "Shut up!" George smacked him.
"Hey, no smacking the driver," Dean laughed.
"I swear Dean, if a demon doesn't kill you," George threatened, "I will."
"You're going first," George demanded as they finally reached Sam's apartment and were standing outside the window.
"Give me a reason then."
"Well, Sam's hunting instincts are probably going to make him attack a stranger, in the dark, and, I really don't feel like getting punched in the face by Sam," George explained.
"What makes you think I do?" Dean questioned.
"Nothing, he's your brother," George pushed Dean towards the window.
Dean grumbled and opened the window, "You owe me some pie," Dean climbed in through the window and passed the strings of beads at the far end of the hall. Dean entered a room Sam was in and Sam lunged forward and grabbed Dean at the shoulder. Noticing the ruckus, George climbed in through the window and saw Sam and Dean fighting. Instead of breaking the fight up, like a good almost-sister should, she just decided to watch Dean grab Sam's arm and swing him around and shoe him back. Sam kicked and was blocked by Dean then pushed into another room. Not wanting to miss any of the excitement, George followed the two brothers into the room as Dean elbowed Sam in the face and Sam kicked at his head. Dean ducked and swung and Sam blocked. Dean knocked Sam down and pinned him to the floor, "Whoa, easy, tiger."
Sam breathed hard, "Dean?" Dean laughed his annoying laugh that made you want to punch him in the face, "You scared the crap out of me!"
"That's 'cause you're out of practice," Sam grabbed Dean's hand and yanked, slamming his heel into Dean;s back and sent Dean to the floor, "Or not," Sam tapped Dean twice where Sam held him, "Get off of me."
Sam rolled to his feet and pulled Dean up, "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Well, I was looking for a beer," Dean said, "It's also not just me," George stepped out from her place in the shadows.
"Hey Sammy," she said opening her arms for a hug, "S'been a while," Sam hugged her.
"Alright, alright, enough chick flick moments," Dean said, breaking up the hug. Dean put his hands on Sam's shoulders, shook once and let go.
"What the hell are you two doing here?" Sam asked.
"Okay. All right. We gotta talk," Dean said.
"Uh, the phone?"
"If either of us called, would you have picked up?"
A blonde girl who was wearing short shorts and a cropped Smurfs shirt, who George supposed to be Sam's girlfriend, How the hell does someone like Sammy get someone that hot? And has an amazing appreciation for classic cartoons?,turned the light on, "Sam?"
The trio snapped their heads in unison, "Jess. Hey. Dean, George, this is my girlfriend, Jessica."
"Wait, your brother Dean and your friend George?"
Jess smiled and Sam nodded. Dean grinned and moved closer, "Oh, I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league." Are you kidding me? Even I have the decency to not flirt with someone who's taken. Well, taken with someone I care about.
"Just let me put something on," Jess said.
Jess was about to go but Dean's flirting voice stopped her, "No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously," Dean went back over to Sam and Sam watched him, his expression stony, "Anyway, we gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But, uh, nice meeting you."
"No," Sam went over to Jess and put an arm around her, "No, whatever either of you want to say, you can say it in front of her."
"Okay," Dean and George looked at them both, "Um. Dad hasn't been home in a few days."
"So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."
Dean ducked his head and looked back up, "Dad's on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days."
Sam's expression didn't change, Jess glanced at him, "Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."
The trio headed downstairs, "I mean, come on. You can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you."
"You're not hearing us, Sammy. Dad's missing. I-
"We"
Dean rolled his eyes, "need you to help me find him."
"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine."
The three of them stopped, Dean and George turning around, "He's never been gone for this long. Now come on, lets get to the car," George ordered.
"No." Sam replied. Of course, stubborn ol' Sammy.
"Why not?" Dean questioned.
"I swore I was done hunting. For good."
"Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad."
Dean and George started downstairs again, "It could have been a hell of a lot worse."
"Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45."
Dean stopped at the door, "Well, what was he supposed to do?"
"I was nine years old! He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark."
"Don't be afraid of the dark? Sammy, that is some of the most bullshit advice you could give anyone. You know by now whats out there!" George all-but-yelled.
"Yeah, I know, but still. The way we grew up, after our and George's moms were killed, and both of our dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her," Dean glanced outside, "But we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we can find."
"A lot of people are still living and breathing because of us," George reminded him.
"You think Mom would have wanted this for us? George, do you think your mom would have wanted this for you?"
Dean rolled his eyes and slammed the door open.
"The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, guys, we were raised like warriors."
They crossed the parking lot to the Impala, "So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?"
"No. Not normal. Safe."
"And that's why you ran away," Dean looked away.
"I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."
"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it," Sam was silent, "We can't do this alone."
"Yes you can."
Dean looked down, "Yeah, well, we don't want to."
Sam sighed and looked down, "What was he hunting?"
Dean opened the trunk of the Impala, then the spare-tire compartment. He propped the compartment open with a shotgun and digs through the clutter, "All right, let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?"
"I dunno," George shrugged.
"So when Dad left, why didn't either of you go with him?"
"We were working our own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans."
"Kicked that evil son of a bitch's ass," George said with a confident grin.
"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?"
Dean looked over at Sam, "I'm twenty-six, dude. Besides, I wasn't alone, Georgey was with me."
"If you call me that name again, I will slit your throat," George threatened.
Dean pulled some papers out of a folder, "All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy," Dean handed one of the papers to Sam, "They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA"
"No signs of, well, anything in the car when they looked at it," George looked over the Victim's MISSING posters.
Sam glanced up, "So maybe he was kidnapped."
"Yeah. Well, here's another one in April," Dean tossed down another article, " Another one in December 'oh-four, 'oh-three, 'ninety-eight, 'ninety-two, ten of them over the past twenty years," Dean tossed down articles on each of the dates he mentioned, " Dean puts the articles in a folder.
"All men," George told Sam, "all the same five-mile stretch of road."
Dean took a bag out of the arsenal, "It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough," Dean grabbed a tape recorder, "Then I get this voicemail yesterday," Dean pressed play.
Dean...George...," a staticky version of John's voice spoke, "something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, both of you. We're all in danger," Dean pressed stop.
"You know there's EVP on that?" Sam asked.
"Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?" Sam shook his head, "All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got," Dean pressed play again.
A woman's voice spoke, "I can never go home..." Dean pressed stop.
"Never go home," Sam repeated.
DEAN drops the recorder, puts down the shotgun, stands straight, and shuts the trunk, then leans on it.
Dean dropped the recorder and put down the shotgun he was holding and shut the trunk, leaning on it, "You know, in almost two years we've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing,"
Sam looked away and sighed, then looked back, "All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him," Dean and George shared a look, then nodded, "But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here," Sam turned to go back to the apartment but turned back when George spoke.
"Whatcha got going on on Monday?" George asked.
"I have this...I have an interview."
"What, a job interview? Skip it," Dean said.
"It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate,"
"Law school?" Dean smirked.
"Man, if I had a drink right now, I'd be doing a spit-take," George teased.
"So we got a deal or not?"
Dean didn't reply.
First chapter finally done! So, what did you think? Constructive Criticism is always welcome!