AU. I added a younger brother to the Winchesters. But this story isn't about him, so don't mind it. Thanks. Enjoy.

John Winchester, the broad shouldered, big, tough, stubborn ex-marine, had always secretly wanted a daughter.

That wasn't to say he didn't love his sons, of course. He would sacrifice life and limb for each and every one of them. But to be able to have a little piece of his Mary back would be invaluable to him. She had been soft and gentle but strong nonetheless. His boys were rugged and tough and liked to burp and spit. John grinned, and shook his head fondly. "Let's go boys." he shouted, holstering his bag over his shoulder. This would be Jacks' first hunt.

Jack had only just hit 12 and was more than excited to join his dad and his two older brothers in the "family business". John wasn't exactly happy about turning his youngest into a hunter-this wasn't the life he wanted for any of his sons-but it was inevitable.

Sam was still fuming. He packed his weapons, the salt, the holy water, into his duffel bag with heated anger. It wasn't enough that his dad had stripped Dean and he of their freedom, but now Jack too? Jack had only been a few days old when that thing had destroyed their lives, he had been nearly four years old, Dean had been six. Sam could only vaguely remember it in the form of odd nightmares-the heat, the fear. But mostly, he remembered being half dragged, half carried out of the burning mess by Dean, who'd saved him and Jack that night. He wondered often times what Dean remembered of the event, but the subject was often deemed taboo whenever he bought it up.

Dean was in the kitchen with Jack prepping the kid for the hunt. John noted how he sounded almost like a mother.

"Alright, we're heading out." He called.

Jack was practically holding his breath. His knees shook, and his hands balled into fists, clenching and unclenching with nervous energy. He'd shot a gun before, he'd sparred plenty of times before, and he knew how to recite Latin like he knew what the back of his hand looked like. He would be fine. Just fine.

They were hunting a Witch. An ugly, troll-like woman with supernatural speed and strength, who had already murdered several men in town with her spells. She disguised herself as a beautiful woman and waited in bars for married men to approach her. If they fell for the bait and committed adultry, she poisoned them.

Johns' source had told them of an underground tunnel in the forest just a few miles from town. They were scavenging the forest now.

"Witches are extremely dangerous; you couldn't have chosen something like a salt and burn for Jacks' first hunt?" Sam complained, glaring at John.

"Now's not the time, Sam, so shut it." John barked at the 15 year old-he would be 16 in a couple of months, and already, nearly towered over Dean, who was 18.

"No, now's the perfect time; we've been scouring this hell hole for hours, your source was wrong, John." Sam retorted. John nearly winced. When in the hell had his own kid started calling him John?

"If you'd concentrate and stop your damn whining, we might actually find this Witch." he growled, very close to replacing the "W" with a "B". This was supposed to be a surprise attack, and here they were, yelling their lungs out near the Witches' lair.

"Hey, both of you, cut it out." Dean whispered harshly. "You can duke it out when we get back to the motel, this is not the time or place."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Can you stop already? I'm so sick and tired of you playing the fucking peacemaker already."

Jacks' eyes widened. He'd heard them all curse plenty of times before, but rarely in anger.

"Don't talk like that to your brother, Sam." John reprimanded.

Sam had been miserable for the past two months. They'd been moving to and from shit town to shit town almost on a weekly basis. He hadn't attended classes at all for the last two months, he missed the friends he'd managed to make from the last time they'd stayed anywhere for more than a month, and he just wanted some sense of normalcy back. "Why not?" he bit back. His brother was only two years older than him, after all, why the hell did he have to respect him? Dean had looked after him and Jack for as long as he could remember. He fed them, clothed them, tried to make sure they went to school, did their homework, and made sure they were ready when a hunt was afoot. Despite the "parental" role he'd taken on for their sakes, Sam couldn't help but think-and say-"You're no better than Dad, Dean. You only take care of us," he gestured towards Jack. "So that Dad doesn't have to, so that he can work on avenging Mom. In the meanwhile, you're trying to take over the "mom" role, trying to fix this giant fuck up of a thing you want to call a family, but newsflash Dean, you can't, you never will, and you just, you fucking suck, Dean!" If Sam hadn't kept so bottled up these last two months, had he vented it out earlier, he would have never said any of those awful things-he didn't mean any of it, of course not, he was just so damn angry. He just wanted to go back to class, to civilization, stop eating frozen meals, and lounging in fucking motels all the time. Almost as soon as he'd uttered all of it, Sam wanted to eat his words back up and apologize, especially after seeing the stricken look on Deans' face.

Of course, that was when the Bitc-Witch, chose to attack.

All four Winchesters were flung back by the sheer force of her entrance. She paralyzed the men and cawed maniacal. "Foolish mortals." she roared. "You dare come into my forest?!" She laughed again. "Such an amusing bunch I've stumbled upon." she hovered above the ground and inspected each as she flew past them.

John struggled for freedom. But it was no use. They'd let their guards down; how the hell were they getting out of this one?

"Men," she spit the word out like hot coal. "Disgusting creatures, the lot of you." she wrinkled her misshapen nose. She stopped when she reached Jack and her long fingernails traced along his brow. "Oh but you," she purred. "You're still a mere boy." she grinned devilishly. "I'll rip your heart out now before you can turn into one of them!" She squealed excitedly.

Jack trembled in fright and squeezed his eyes shut tight.

"Pick on someone your own size you big-headed bitch!" Dean hollered from across the forest, his body pinned to a giant oak tree.

The Witch shot over to the 18 year old in the blink of an eye. "What did you just say to m-" she paused abruptly and gasped. "Oh my." she came closer, her fingers roaming across his chest.

John and Sam fought against the paralyze spell she'd cast on them, feeling it weaken momentarily, while she was distracted.

"Your heart." she cooed, already large eyes growing impossibly bigger. "You're perfect." she said. "She who is pure of heart can be forsaken with the Birth." she recanted.

Before John and Sam could get free, the Witch slammed her hand hard against Deans' forehead, and chanted a peculiar spell. When she opened her eyes, a blinding white light flashed across the entire forest, and only Deans' piercing scream could be heard in the mess.

"DEAN!" John, Sam, and Jack yelled hoarsely, in unison.

After a full minute the light faded.

Along with the Witch.

The spell wore off and the three Winchesters fell to the ground. Sam was the first to recover. "Dean!" he shouted, stumbling over to his brother, who was laying face down in a pile of leaves, across the forest from him. John and Jack followed.

"Dean, son!" John called, as they made their way towards him. No response.

Once they reached him, John dug into the pile of leaves and scooped up his...daughter. He nearly dropped Dean, from the shock.

Sam nearly fell back. "Is that...? That's Dean, right?" he asked, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

Jack couldn't believe his eyes. "Is he...ok?"

John shook himself out of his stupor. "Back to the car. Now!" He carried the unconscious body like a China doll.

Nobody spoke again until they were inside the motel room. John checked the body over for any injuries and once he'd confirmed that nothing was broken, he poured holy water over Deans forehead, which only made him stir in his sleep. "Mmm," Dean sighed as he awoke. Once he was a little more alert, he practically snapped upright in the bed. "Jack!" he gasped.

John put a hand on the slender shoulder. "It's alright Dean, he's safe. We got out of that forest." he assured his son.

Jack sat on the edge of the bed next to Dean and hugged him tightly. "I thought you were gonna' die." he wiped at his face.

Dean ruffled Jacks' messy brown locks and grinned. "Not getting rid a me that eas-" he paused mid-sentence and tried to clear his throat. Was he coming down with a cold? He sounded off. Not like himself at all. "What the hell's wrong with my voice?" he wondered out loud.

"That Witch; she ah..." John tried to find a delicate way to explain the situation.

"Dean...you're not really...yourself right now." Sam tried to pitch in.

Dean arched a brow. "What? Did I grow an extra limb?" he looked down at himself to discover two humble mountains obstructing his view. "Wha'?" his mouth went dry. He reached into his pants and turned white as the sheets he was on. "What the hell did that Bitch do with my dick?!" he gasped.

"She turned you into a girl." Jack said with a shrug, as if it were that simple.

Dean jumped off the bed and ran into the bathroom in a dead sprint, before John of Sam could say anything else. He locked the door behind him and looked at himself in the mirror. "No no no no no no no." he shook his head. "No no no." he denied the reflection. He was a girl alright.

Less than an hour later the forest burned to the ground. It must have been the Witches' doing, John had deduced. They couldn't find a single trace of her afterward.

A day later they were on the road again. "We'll go to Bobbys'." John told them. "He'll know how to reverse the spell."

Dean sighed as he looked out the passenger window. Long, thick, annoying locks of honey blonde flowed seamlessly in the wind, in front of his face. He hoped Bobby had an answer to solve this mess soon. It was a two day drive to get to Bobbys.

Near eight pm, John stopped at a diner at the entrance of a small town they were driving through, to get some grub.

That morning, before they'd left, John and Sam had gone to the salvation army to get a couple of new shirts and pants-in the process, they'd gotten Dean some fitting jeans and a tank top. And a bra.

Sam had tried hard not to laugh at Deans' red face when they'd handed him the bag and told him to change. The clothes he owned were way too big for him now-his shirts drooping low on his shoulders, and his pants sagging.

When they entered the family owned diner, they were seated near the window, and given cheap plastic menus to peruse.

"Tell 'em I want the bacon cheeseburger deluxe and a beer. I'll be back, gotta take a wiz." Dean announced "elegantly", as he pushed out his seat and strided over to the back of the diner where the restrooms were located. He took a minute, just standing in front of the two, until, with a defeated little sigh, he begrudgingly walked into the womens' bathroom, ears red.

John noticed after five minutes that Dean had been gone a little longer than usual. He got up in search of him and as he neared the restrooms, spotted Dean. He was toe to toe with a tall, broad-shouldered fella. John grimaced, thinking Dean was probably picking a fight, when the guy leaned in, pushed Deans' small frame hard up against the wall, and swept in for a kiss. Dean kept his lips shut and kept rigidly still, shock making him numb for a minute. He'd been getting ready to brawl...not what ever this was.

John saw red. When he could finally see clearly again, he was being pulled off the broad-shouldered fucker by Dean, Sam, and half the diners' staff.

"Y'er lucky they ain't pressin' charges you horny bast'erd." The lean woman in her late forties whacked the large man in the back of the head. "I'm mighty sorry for my son's blunder headedness. He sees a pretty little thing like yer daughter done walk in here and he's like a dog!" she apologized to John, who'd nearly beat the life out of the diner owners' son.

Later in the car, Jack peeked over at his oldest brother in the front seat and made a face. "Dude," he whined. "You let that guy kiss you!"

Dean glared at the twelve year old. "Shut up." and then he turned that same glare towards his father in the drivers' seat. "I could have taken him, you know."

Johns' grip on the steering wheel was no less severe for the words. "Jacks' right Dean, what the hell were you thinking letting that pieceofshit touch you?" John couldn't explain the anger he was feeling at the moment. His sons had all been in brawls before, whether with each other, strangers, or some supernatural creature, and of course he reacted if his sons got hurt in the process or tossed around, but this, this! He couldn't, with words, describe how he felt.

Deans' eyes widened. "I didn't let him do anything! I thought when he blocked my path and refused to get outta' the way we were gonna' get into a fucking fist fight! Not...not whatever the hell that was." he lowered his voice towards the end and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger in frustration.

"Just...don't let it happen again." Johns' knuckles were still white as Dean had been when he'd realized a certain part of his anatomy was missing. John hadn't really looked at Dean since he'd changed, now that he thought about it. But right then, when he'd seen that pig steal a kiss from Dean, he'd damn well seen Dean-maybe for the first time. He looked just like his mother-and that was as a male!-as a girl, he looked just like a younger version of his late wife. He had all that honey blonde hair; he was maybe 5 feet, 6 inches tall at most, pretty average height for a girl; he had that hour glass shape, long legs, big green eyes, long lashes, full lips, a slim figure-his son was a woman. John shook his head and nearly hit a semi on the highway.

Dean drove the rest of the way to Bobbys'.

"Well if it ain't the Winchester Boys!" Bobby greeted the bunch, his two dogs sitting on the porch patiently. "Nice of you to call before showin' up." he teased. John rarely ever called ahead of time, if ever.

John waved as he got out of the passenger seat. Sam and Jack jumped out of the back, lugging their duffel bags with them. Jack grinned "Uncle Bobby!" he ran to the older man.

Bobby caught the kid in a bear hug. "Man you've gotten big! Ya' gonna' be like your brother Sammy over here?" he patted Sams' shoulder in a way of saying hello. The kid looked pissed. But then, after hitting 12 or 13, the frown became a little of a permanent fixture on Sams' face. Bobby felt sorry for him; he'd offered to keep him-at least until he graduated high school, at his place, but John hadn't given it a second thought. Sam still hated him for it.

"Where's Dean-O?" Bobby looked over yonder towards the car and was more or less shocked to see who stepped out of the drivers' seat.

"Hey Bobby, long time no see." a stunning blonde waved at the speechless man.

"Dean?" He couldn't believe it. "What the hell-"

"Witch." All four Winchesters explained simultaneously.

"Well shit." Bobby awed.

Dean rubbed at his other arm a little self-consciously. "You've got somethin' to fix this, right?"

Bobby grimaced. "I'll uh, I'll hafta' see. I've never seen something like this before." he replied honestly. "But until then, you're all welcome to stay here." he ushered them all in. The dogs, who'd always loved Dean the most, licking and pawing at this new version of Dean in amusement.

Sam trudged inside and went upstairs, slamming his door. Bobby would figure this thing out in a week, tops, and then they'd be back on the road killing bad things again.

Dean opened the door to their shared bedroom. "Hey Sammy, you ok?"

Sam startled but recovered quickly. "It's Sam." he corrected.

Dean nodded. "Sorry; Sam."

Sam sighed. "Dean...I," he sighed again. "I'm sorry for what I said in the forest the other day."

Dean scratched the back of his head awkwardly. He would've been happy to sweep that particular incident right under the damn carpet for good. "It's ok." he shrugged. "I'll try to get Dad to stay a little longer, so you can go to school, ok?"

Sam shook his head. "It's fine; I'm used to it already."

Dean ruffled Sams' hair, glad that he was sitting on the bed, and not standing up-otherwise he would never have reached, especially in his current state.

"Boys! Dinner!" Bobby called, later that day, as Jack set the table dutifully.

Jack grinned. "You mean Boys and Girl."

Dean flicked Jack on the forehead on his way to the table. "Shaddup Jackie-least I don't have a girls' name."

Jack stuck his tongue out at the blonde.

Between Dean and Jack making faces at each other from across the dinner table, John talking about how to hunt that Witch down, and Sams' purposely loud chewing, with intermittent glares thrown his fathers' way, Bobby thought he never felt right at home, than when the Winchesters were in town.

A.N. So, I was in the middle of writing a chapter for something entirely unrelated when this one just kinda' took over. So yeah. I like it, so I'll most likely continue with this one. I like the idea of a female teenage Dean, an angsty Sam, a mini addition to the Winchesters, and Papa John and Uncle Bobby. Any constructive criticism would be appreciated. Thank you.