A/N: So here it is! My first spn fanfic, and I really hope you guys like it:)

'This was it' I told myself. I always knew this day would come, when the arguments, the fighting, the insults, the self-consciousness would eventually kill me. Well, more like I would kill me.

You just never imagine it would be so damn hard.

Standing on the edge of that bridge though, at that time, it felt so right. And that scared me. Scared me more than I would have ever imagined. I had seen myself here a thousand times. More than a thousand times had I seen my self in a situation like this, a gun to the head, a rope from the ceiling, a knife to wrists, or a stinging in a part of my chest where a sharp knife pressed, waiting to be pushed in.

My backpack and tote laid on the other side of the rusty railing that lined the bridge. The safe side. The bags held my few belongings from when I had run away a few months back, my laptop, phone, notebooks, etc. The little things that meant so much, that I couldn't bear to drop off of the bridge with me, like they were garbage.

I knew I wouldn't be missed. They made clear I wouldn't be. And, to me, that was okay. I didn't want to be missed. I wanted to go peacefully, where the only people it would affect where the coroners who dragged my body out of the water.

I steadied myself, gripping the bar a bit tighter. I heard a car rumble up the road, and hoped that they didn't see me. I doubted they would, it was pitch black and I was wearing dark clothes.

The rumble got closer, and I debated jumping right then. No, I told myself, They might see the movement and I don't want anyone to see me go. Especially if they are kids, I'm not scaring anybody for my own selfish reasons.

So, I stood, and the rumble was almost behind me when it slowed, and stopped. I heard the car turn off. Son of a bitch.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Came a man's voice. I recognised it almost immediately. Great, I'm going insane. That voice couldn't be real, or maybe it was just someone who sounded like him. I secretly hoped it was the latter. I didn't want to die crazy.

"Kid! Can you hear me?" It came again. This time I turned my head to see where the voice came from.

when i saw the owner of the voice, I instantly sprung a string of curse words under my breath.

"...seriously couldn't let me die sane, could you?" I said, to noone in particular. My delusion looked confused.

"What? Could you please come back over here, so we can talk?" He said, almost concerned.

"You're not real." I said simply, looking him in the eyes. He looked real. But it was impossible. I wasnt going to get my hopes up for nothing.

"What? Why wouldn't I be?" He said, taking a few steps closer. He could walk all he wanted, I knew he wasn't real.

"Because, Sam, you're a character. A fictional character." He stopped walking once I said his name. Then Dean stepped out of the drivers side. He didn't look happy. He pulled a double-barrel from inside of the car and pointed it at me. I looked down the barrel with a blank face.

"How the fuck did you know his name? Who or what are you?" He spat at me. I smiled. Maybe my subconscious was letting me have some fun before I jumped.

"Hello Dean. I know your names because you are not real." he just started walking towards me but Sam put an arm in front of him.

"Stop, Dean. We don't know if she's even dangerous. She's just a kid, so put the gun down." Sam said, and gestured for him to lower the gun. Dean looked at him like he was crazy, and kept the gun eye-level with me.

Sam closed the seven foot gap in between us and offered his hand.

"If you don't believe we are real, see for yourself." and nodded toward his outstretched hand. I gingerly reached out, and touched his hand. I gasped as soon as I did. He was real. My hand snapped up in disbelief. It couldn't be.

Sam smiled before asking again to come back to the other side of the bridge. I nodded slowly, and he backed up and let me jump over. I looked at the black waters one last time before leaning against the rail, and turning to them.

"How are you here?" I asked quietly. I was sure they didn't hear me, but Sam replied,

"What do you mean?"

"You're fictional characters. You're from the show. You shouldn't be real. I really need to stop day-drinking" I said, with amazement in my voice, the last part more towards me.

Before Sam had a chance to reply, Dean piped in, with the gun still pointed at my chest.

"We're not from no damn show, now tell us what you are!" he shouted walking closer and poking me in the chest with the gun.

"That's filled with rock salt, It won't kill me." I replied looking him in the eye. He looked shocked. and grabbed a flask of holy water from his jacket and threw some at my face. I wiped it off nonchalantly.

He looked even more shocked while Sam looked at him like I told you so, dumbass.

"What else do you know?" Dean said threateningly.

"Everything." I said simply.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Said Dean. I sighed and started in on their story.

"You are Sam and Dean Winchester, your parents are John and Mary Winchester, your mother died in Sam's nursery on his sixth month birthday, pinned to the ceiling. Your father has been hunting the thing that killed her since. Sam attends Stanford, has a girlfriend named Jessica, and you guys drive a '67 Chevrolet Impala that used to be your fathers. I bet you don't know who convinced him to buy it?" I said and they looked astonished. Sam answered my question.

"Dad said that a man on the street convinced him to buy the impala rather than a Volkswagen bus." He said with a slight amount of confusion.

"That man was Dean," I looked at him, "from the future, of course."

Sam decided then would be a good time to change the subject as it looked like Dean was ready to shoot, kill or no kill.

"How do you know so much about us?" he asked, confused. I sighed. Now they're going to think I'm the crazy one. Before I didn't care because they didn't seem real, but I idealized these guys. They were what kept me going through the hard time, until it all got to be too much.

"I watch - or rather, watched - the show, Supernatural. It documented your lives, basically." I told them. I worried that that would get a spark out of Dean, considering how he treated Chuck when he found out about the books.

It looked like Dean was about to say something when Sam piped in saying, "We can talk about it at the motel. You can come with us." He said this gently, not demanding or unkind. Dean stomped back to the car, obviously not happy with the arrangements. As I started walking to the car, I turned around and took one last, longing look at the cold waters below. In my experience, nothing good ever happens to me. But maybe, just maybe, this time could be different?

A/n: Ahhhh! The first chapter is finished! I'm really sorry about the shortness of it and I really do hope you guys liked it, and I know things are moving too fast, and that it was a little oc of the boys to just invite someone to go with them, but I was getting sick of writing their interactions, as I hate when stories take too long to progress. I know that almost nothing was revealed about the main character. Well, except the fact that she had a really hard time growing up, and with where she came from. Please review and tell me what you think! I love criticism, because it makes me a better writer and gives me a little insight from you guys, which is awesome. Bye:)