A/N: Hi! So this is my first Supernatural story, and I've just been inspired to write this after binge-watching three seasons in anticipation of the season 10 premiere. So this will be mostly some back story on my OC and the boys' relationship. (Not all chapters will be this long, I swear)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural. I do own my OC and story

September, 2008

Tires screech along the back road into the familiar gravel of Bobby Singer's salvage yard. Her beloved baby blue 1969 Chevy Camaro parked just outside, Scarlet jogs into the back door, not bothering to knock. Slamming the door behind her she goes straight for the fridge, clutching her wounded arm and grabbing a beer with the right and expertly popping the top on the counter. She gulped down half the bottle before going to find Bobby in his study.

"Bobby," she greets with a smile and he stands, "I've missed you!" Scarlet tries to lean in for a hug, but Bobby's eyes are locked on the blood-soaked bandanna she's got wrapped around her bicep. He pulls away from her intended embrace and brings her back into the kitchen for her to hop onto the kitchen table, grimacing when Bobby unties the once blue bandanna from her wound.

"What's happened to you, girl?" He asks, overlooking her wounds then going to dig his aid kit from under the sink. The small smile that appeared on her face soon disappeared when Bobby poured whiskey over the three large gashes on her arm.

"Werewolf in St. Paul," she says through her teeth. "Fucking hell," Scarlet curses, grabbing for the bottle of whiskey and taking a swig.

"You legal yet, girl?" Asks Bobby. How old was she the last time he saw her? What's it been- four, five years?

She chuckles, "Would it matter if I wasn't, Pops?" He stares her down and she sets down the whiskey. "I'm twenty-five now, Bobby. Perfectly legal... Shit!" She takes in a breath when he starts stitching her smallest wound.

"I'm sorry I haven't come 'round more," she sighs, gritting her teeth. "S'been... ARGH!... difficult. How.. how're you doing?"

Bobby clips after the two stitches and begins to re-thread the needle for her larger wounds. "Don't have to apologize, Scar. I understand... and I'm fine. No need to worry 'bout me. You're the one goin' after damn werewolves! All by yourself?"" Bobby scolds her and Scarlet rolls her eyes.

"I'm a big girl now, Bobby. I handled it perfectly fine," she replies. He meets her blue-green eyes and she hardens her stare. He know's she's right- he taught her everything she knows, and she's been hunting all her life. He trusts she wouldn't go on a hunt she couldn't handle.

"I'd've gotten someone out there with ya- bite this," he shoved a rag into her mouth which she muffled her yell of agony as the needle pierced her skin again, deeper. He was silent as he did his work, always patching this girl up. Bobby wasn't surprised she showed up- after Katie died she hadn't seen him, didn't even bother to tell him where she went. Hell, he knows- probably went off to hunt anything she could get her hands on. All Bobby got was a phone call, maybe, if she needed help with a case. But no talking, no visiting. It was the most distant she'd been in years. But still, through all that, she'd always come back here. Katie has been gone for eight years now, and Scarlet knew how to be on her own. This was the only place she could even call home and he'd be damned if she decided to stop showing up. Scarlet is the closest thing Bobby had to a daughter and he sure needed her in his life as much as he was needed in hers, not 'd ever truly admit it.

"Now you can go get your things while I put together your old bed, a'right? Careful with that left side, I ain't stichin' you up again," Bobby orders. Scarlet nods and slides off the counter, holding her left arm to her side with full awareness. She gulps down the rest of her beer before turning to go and get her two duffel bags from her trunk, but Bobby turns her around gently and pulls her into his chest.

"I missed ya too, girl," he mumbles into her mess of curly hair. Scarlet's lips tug into a smile when he kisses her head. "Now go get some clothes, then a shower because you reek of wet dog." Scarlet laughs and pulls away from Bobby and out the door.

Her face is smacked with the cool September air with a serene smile; she loves this chilly weather. She pops the trunk and retrieves her bags from the top half of her trunk. Scarlet learned a long time ago how to conceal her weapons safely; she has a fake bottom to her trunk and underneath lies all her weapons and fake identification. On the underside of her hood she even has carved a devil's trap- just to be safe.

After throwing her scattered belonging and brown leather purse into her large, worn rucksack, Scarlet loops her arm under the straps of both duffels. Her left arm twinges as she lifts them with a grunt, but that doesn't stop her from gripping a strap of her rucksack with her teeth. Scarlet kicked the trunk down with her boot and trudged 30 yards to Singer's back door, dropping her stuff in the kitchen with another grunt. Bobby comes in, still with the bloody towel thrown over his shoulder and a phone pressed to his chest.

"What in the hell do you think you're doin', girl? I told ya to be careful n' you go hauling every damn thing you own all at once?"

"Two trips are for pussies."

Bobby rolls his eye's at Scarlet's cocky smirk and slings the towel down onto the table. "Hold on, I'll get back to ya later," he growls into the phone. Bobby helps Scarlet out by grabbing the larger duffel and the old backpack. Just seeing the thing makes the corner of his mouth twitch into a small smile.

"Who was-"

"You still got this thing?" Bobby interrupts.

Scarlet smiles shyly down at the midnight blue bag, painted with black, grey and white little stars. "Yeah, how could I get rid of it?"

x

June, 1993

Scarlet slams the front door of the Singer house and drops her bad beside the couch, sitting with a groan. "I am NOT going back there, Katie! Don't bother trying to make me!"

A short, slender brunette with bright blue eyes comes down the stairs to her sister's cry of agony. "Bad day at school, love?"

"Don't 'love' me," Scarlet huffed. "Stop saying stuff like that!"

The twenty-year-old went to the kitchen and brought back a half-full package of Oreos and jar of peanut butter. "What's with the Brit bashing?" Katie asks, sinking nest to her sassy little sister, stuffing the delicious concoction into her small mouth. Her mind was starting the familiar run into overdrive and Scarlet knew by the look on her face.

"Nothing... I just-"

"It's your culture! Why do you have to be so down about it, Scarlet?! You don't even have an accent!" Tick, tick, tick... "We moved here before you were five! And Mum and Dad weren't even-" Boom. Katie's small outburst ends with the mention of their parents and Scarlet's chubby hand placed on her knee. The smart little girl swiped another biscuit in the peanut butter and the last bit of angst Katie was feeling melted away through the chocolate and peanut butter snack. Katie places her thin hand over her sisters. Scarlet always took in the difference between her and her sister- Katie with long, filed pale pink nails and Scarlet's chewed short midnight blue. Scarlet always wondered how her sister kept her nails so perfect and pretty with the things she does...

"Sorry, Scar." Katie mumbles while she swallowed. Scarlet lifts her head in a small nod as the previous train of thought escaped her. Her sister's mood did another 180 as well. "So! What happened at school today, then? You stuck with Sam, right?"

Scarlet nods solemnly. "Not for the first part, though.. I didn't want him labeled at this new school as the fat girl's friend again."

"You're not-"

"But they still made fun of him at recess; I tried to stop them but when I saw them pushing Sammy around I got mad and called them wankers."

Katie disregards her previous thought. "Well good, then. Fifth graders are little wankers."

Scarlet nods angrily. "And then they started teasing me for the way I talk! I didn't mean to sound so weird but those guys said-"

"Don't let what those little punks say bother you, honey," Katie says. "You've only been there a week. How could they know anything about you to change their ugly thoughts on you, my wonderful little sis?" Scarlet smiled shyly and Katie poked one of her dimples, making the girl giggle. "Look at the bright side- you've only got two more weeks of school left. And if they take it too far, remember that roundhouse kick I showed you last wee-"

"What in the hell are you teaching this girl, Kat?" Bobby roars. He now stands int he doorways with John Winchester by his side, both covered in grease.

Katie chuckles, gets up and puts the fatty snack away. "How to defend herself," she replies casually. Scarlet smiles at the two men right when Sam came between then, running to jump over the couch. He drops his bag next to Scarlet's and sinks next to his best friend. Scarlet takes the chance to lay down, resting her head on the young Winchester's lap. John, now conscious of his son's presence, speaks between Bobby and Katie.

"We can discuss this later."

Katie looks back at her little sister, happily chatting with Sam. He was twirling and playing with one of her red, now brownish coloured curls. "Alright, whatever you say," she replied. She approaches him to say something quietly. "You've got to teach Sam sooner that later, John. Dean can't be his only source of protecting, and you know how his life will turn out. Being surrounded by hunters... he's gonna end up this way himself, whether you teach him or I do." John's jaw clenched tight, he s stands his ground next to the young British girl. Katie turns her attention away from the brooding man to her favorite kids.

"Hey chillens! I've got a little idea for something fun to do," Katie clapped enthusiastically. Scarlet and Sam sat up, looking at the petite adult in curiosity. Katie was always bringing home something 'fun' for them to do, trying to make them feel normal, after they'd switched school for the third time in the past five months."Empty your rucksacks!" She elled, running to her room.

"Rucksack?" Sam asks Scarlet.

"Just your backpack, Bubba," she replies, dumping her own dark blue bag of the few books she'd gotten. Sam did the same with his black one. Katie came back with five small used bottles of paint and what Scarlet assumed to be old makeup brushes. There was bright royal blue, dark red, light grey, black and white.

"Are you gonna paint our faces or something?" Sam asks.

"You don't need face paint. Sammy already looks like a clown," says Dean. The teen just came in and sat himself in Bobby's chair, kicking his feet up on the desk.

"Shut up, jerk!"

"Bitch."

Scarlet rolls her eyes, "Idiots." She and Sam pick up their empty bags and bring them to the table. "We're gonna decorate our bags?" Scarlet asks her sister.

Katie squirts a bit of each colour on a paper plate; a makeshift paint pallet. "Yep yep. Dean, you wanna paint with us?"

The teen crosses his arms and rolls his eyes, leaning back in the chair. "I'm fourteen, why wanna do something so dumb and babyish like art projects?" He scoffs.

Scarlet furrowed her brows, painting a small white astrix on her bag ( * ) satisfied with her version of a star. "You don't have to be so rude, Dean. She was just-"

"What're you doin' with your feet up there, boy?" Bobby says, interrupting to push Dean's dirty boots of the wood on his desk. Dean rolls his eyes again and trumps outside to watch his dad work on his car. Scarlet continues to use the small brush to pain grey, black, and white stars all over her bag. She liked the look of making her own little piece of space. Sam still stared at the pain and his plain black bag in wonder.

"What're you gonna paint, Sammy?" she asks.

"I don't..." Sam sighed. He's never thought as creatively as Scarlet. "I have no idea. What do you think I should paint?"

Scarlet purses her lips. "Hmm... What about your favorite super symbol?"

"Like Superman's logo thingy?"

Scarlet's strawberry blonde brows shoot up in excitement. "Yeah! But, like, make it you. Super-Sam! I'll do mine if you do yours," she reasoned.

Sam smiled, picking up the other eye shadow brush and dipping it in red paint, then he strokes 'SS' on the bottom right of Scarlet's bag, then dipped it in black and drew circles in a target shape, running vertical lines out from the center. Sam then painted the diamond shape of superman's logo in the center of his bag, then dipped the brush back into red and finished with putting 'SS' in the outline. He leaned back to look and his work. "Spider-Scarlet and Super-Sam."

Scarlet smiled at her best friend, and they high fived. Katie looked on at the two, glad to give them a happy end to a crappy day.

x

The Next Morning, 2008

Searing pain and discomfort from her left bicep woke Scarlet up this morning at 6. She has just been attacked by a werewolf, so she's just glad she got to sleep safely last night at all. Ignoring the pain and following her thoughts of gratitude, Scarlet decides that she'd spend the early hours straightening her old room and do some tidying up in the Singer house. Both of which were both needed, as Scarlet discovers as she straightened out some papers along Bobby's desk, then smudged her finger in dust along the bookshelf. After an hour or so of cleaning, giving Bobby some more time to sleep in, she pulls out the neglected vacuum from the closet and does a job on those old rugs. She lit some incense as well- Damn, does Bobby smear this place with mud and whiskey?

Scarlet then went up back to her room and went through her old drawers, finding the last pieces of clothing she'd left here as a teenager. Some band tees and tanks, mostly, with the occasional printed top or one of Sam's flannels she always borrowed. All of her tops were either cut-up purposely (she hates high necklines- straining over her ever-resented large chest) or just so old that holes had found their way along the collar and hem of the shirt. Plenty of sweatpants and pajama bottoms- Scarlet really loved comfy clothes at home.

Of course she never wore those things out in the real world. Scarlet sighed in content as she kicked off her dark jeans and slid on her favorite pair of sweats, letting her grown-out maroon toenails peek through and leaving her heels covered. Maybe she'll have time to pain her nails while she's here. She took off her blood-covered Stones shirt and pulled on her favorite Green Day tank top. It had a little trouble getting over her bust, and didn't reach quite her pants, either; she's definitely not sixteen anymore. Scarlet shrugged, not paying much thought to how the curve of her stomach protruded out of her sweatpants from the inch uncovered space from her shirt or how her wide hips didn't align perfectly to her sides. She's at home, it's just Bobby and her. Besides, who does she have to be skinny for, anyway? She finds a clean black bandanna and covers her Frankenstein arm, then uses an old scarf to sling her arm.

Scarlet now trumps downstairs, finding herself in the kitchen at last, mixing her pancake recipe from scratch, tossing in a bit of cinnamon and a dash of vanilla extract as her signature. Scarlet loves to cook, bake- anything that gets her in a nice kitchen and puts a good warmth in her belly. As is she ever has time to cook, let alone bake (even if she did have access to a real kitchen, which she doesn't.) So being back home lets her free that baker's daughter withing her.

"I kissed a girl and I liked iiit, the taste of her cherry chapstick," she sings quietly. Scarlet sways her hips to the tune as she pours large amounts of batter onto the pan. "I kissed a girl just to try iiit, I hope my boyfriend don't mind it," Scarlet sang louder, getting into the catchy pop tune. Her eyes closed, finally feeling a bit comfortable, she dances around the kitchen and lets her beautiful voice come out of hiding. "It felt so wrong, it felt so-"

"Katy Perry? Really?" A deep voice says. Definitely not Bobby; Scarlet could recognize her best friend anywhere. She opens her eyes, a giant smile spreads across her face. Samn drops his bag and catches Scarlet in his arms, smiling into her curly hair.

"SAMMY! God it's been too long," Scarlet says into his shoulder. She slid out of his arms to look him over, stunned a bit by how grown-up he looks.

Sam does the same raising an eyebrow to her arm. "What's this?" he says. Before she can respond, he scoffs and tugs on her tank top. "If you still go from preppy-pop to punk rock in an instant, then nah. It hasn't been long enough you weirdo," he chuckles. Scarlet punches him lightly in the chest.

"Shut up," she giggles, then continues to sing the catchy tune in his face. "And my arm, I was just-"

"Scar?"

Scarlet was cut of again by another gruff voice. Sam turned to his brother as he approached the red-headed chef; flour was sprinkled on the grey of her shirt. Dean lifted a hand to brush some off her shoulder. Scarlet stood there, unable to make eye contact, but she knew better than to just stand there.

"Dean," she said, putting on a cheerful smile like the one she gave to Sam. He pulled her in for a tight hug, resisting the urge to whisper a friendlier greeting in her ear. He held her tight, enough to make it look awkward when Scarlet pulled away from him. When Dean realized this, his arm reached up to scratch the back of his neck uncomfortably, shooting a suspecting glance at his brother before speaking to Scarlet.

"So," he clears his throat. "What're you doin' back in South Dakota?"

Scarlet bit her lip, as she always does when she's anxious. "I just uh, drove in from Maine a few days ago." Dean nodded along with her story and Sam shot a curious glance between the two as Scarlet continued. "Been there a while, found a case in New York a few weeks ago, turned up a werewolf. I just tracked it all the way to Iowa, then chased it all through Minnesota. Anyways, I uh... caught the wolf last night and it put up quite'f'a fight," she gestured to the sling.

"How bad? Let me take a loot," Dean said immediately. He even dropped his bag and reached to untie the makeshift sling over her shoulder. Scarlet stepped back and gave him a knowing look. "I just wanna check that old man's handiwork," he joked, covering his intense concern. "Make sure he didn't screw you up."

Both Scarlet and Sam gave him a weary look on that one. Damn, Dean was gonna have to get himself together if Scarlet was here. He hadn't seen her since the first two weeks he was out of Hell. Of course, Dean was just going to avoid knowing sooner that later Scarlet would corner him and force him to speak.

"Yeah, sure Dean." Scarlet said to the older Winchester, then gave him a loos saying they'd talk now and he's not going anywhere. Dean smiled inwardly- he knew her so well. "Sam, you wanna go put your bags in our room? Bobby's still got our bunkbeds in there." Sam smiles at his friend and shakes his head to himself, grabbing his brother's bag as well.

"I'm assuming Dean's bed is still there too?" Sam asks from the stairs. Scarlet nods and Sam disappears down the hall.

Scarlet looks back at Dean walking back into the kitchen, her jaw clenched, and hops onto the counter. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Dean unties the knot of her sling, carefully removing the bandanna she's wrapped around her wound. "Very funny," he states. Scarlet softens her gaze, looking Dean's eyes apologetically.

"Sorry. Too soon."

Dean shrugs as his fingers gently prodded the skin around her stitching. "D'you have coconut oil?" he asks, avoiding her stare. He wraps her arm back up, even fixing her sling. "It would quicken the healing and your skin needs-"

"Dean. We need to talk about Maine. What you went through... Why'd you come to me? And what's up with leaving me without a word after spending your two weeks of recovery from Hell in my bed? And is this Castiel guy really an angel? Have you-"

"Scarlet Orion Gordon." He addresses her loudly. She's shocked into silencing her intensifying questions. His mind is pulled into the intense pool of blues and sea foam green of her orbs, mindlessly closing the space between them until he's standing between her legs, inches from her face. He can feel her breath hitch and see her eyes darting down after his intense stare.

"Dean, you can't- we can't-"

"Who says," he says gruffly. Dean's hands find their way to her hips, circling with his thumbs and grabbing at her soft exposed flesh. His head moves to her neck, inhaling her jasmine scent and whispering in her hair. "I need this, Scar. I need you."

Scarlet lifts her working arm to his shoulder, intending to push him away but wraps it around his neck when he places a tender kiss just below her ear. "You need to talk to me about it..." she sighs. He starts moving rougher, hungrier open mouthed kisses down her neck, making Scarlet tilt her head back. "Sammy's here... What're we supposed to... tell him?"

"Sam doesn't need to know," Dean says, moving his hand to the curve of Scarlet's back and roughly pulling her to the edge of the counter. Scarlet wraps her thighs around Dean's waist to keep from falling off the counter, finally giving in to his touch. She moves her hand to the base of his neck, bringing his face back to level with hers. Their eyes met quickly before Scarlet closes the space between them, smashing her soft lips again his.

A/N: Part II of the prologue will come sooner with reviews! Thank you .xx