Here's another short. And if you guys think of any you want to read about just tell me. I like writing these in between normal chapters.

The First Time I Went On A Hunt

The first time I went on a hunt I was fifteen years old. For years and years I'd watch my best friends leave in that old black car not knowing when they'd come back. I'd sit by my window and watch for the Impala to make the turn onto our road. At night I'd leave my window cracked so the sound of the motor would wake me up.

Every time they'd finally come back we'd sit in my room or hide out in the woods behind the house so they could tell me all about their newest hunt. I'd heard the stories for so long I never had a chance to doubt whether they were true or not. All I knew was I wanted to join Sam and Dean on one of these hunts. I wanted to be a hunter and save people just like they did.

Sam and Dean hadn't lived in Lawrence in a little over a year. I would still get a phone call from Sam at least once a week to keep me updated and every once in a while Dean would steal the phone from him to tease me and pick on me. I didn't see the boys nearly as much as I use to but they would stop by when they were close.

It was winter break from school and I was curled up in my bed reading a book I'd borrowed from the library. My hair was pulled up high on my head to keep the curls out of my face and I was wearing mismatched christmas pajamas.

My eyes stopped moving across the page and moved up to the window. It was faint but I could swear I could hear it. The rumbling of that engine getting louder. I jumped out of bed and bounded over to the window. I got to it just in time to see the Impala pull into the driveway. I didn't take the time to change clothes or fix my hair. I took off down the stairs and reached the front door before John had a chance to ring the doorbell.

I pulled the door open and let a smile tear across my face at the three Winchester's standing on the other side.

"Sammy!" I exclaimed and pulled my best friend to me. He squeezed me tight in a hug and picked me up off the ground showing off his new growth spurt.

"Robin Ariel," Ann, my stepmom scolded behind me. "What are you doing answering the door like that?" I looked down at my pajama's then back up at the boys. Dean was holding back a grin and eyeing my snowmen bottoms and tacky Santa T-shirt. Sammy just shrugged.

"How are you, Mrs. Walker?" John asked.

"We're doing well, John. I'm sorry, you'll have to excuse Robin."

"She's just excited. We were passing through and the boys insisted we stop by."

"Oh, of course. Come on in."

"Actually, I've got a few things I need to do."

"Well then, the boys are welcome to stay. But, Robin you need to go get dressed," Ann said giving me a warning look.

"Yes, ma'am," I groaned before smiling at the boys again and running back upstairs.

After I had jeans and a sweater on and my hair brushed I ran back downstairs to see Sam and Dean playing video games with one of the other foster kids in the living room. I jumped over the controller cords and dropped down between them on the couch.

"Aw, no more Santa shirts?" Dean teased setting the controller down and causing the car he was racing in to crash into a wall.

"So, what are you guys doing in Lawrence?" I asked. Dean looked over at Lenny, the other foster kid who was immersed in the video games then over to Sam. Sam paused the game and sat his controller down.

"Sorry Lenny," Dean apologized. "We'll have to take a rain check on that race."

The brothers stood and I followed them outside. It was cold out but it didn't seem to bother the boys as we headed towards the street to take a walk. I walked between the boys and shoved my hands into the pockets of my jacket.

"We're headed to Montana. Just finished up a hunt in Georgia and we asked if we could stop by here and see you first," Sam told me.

"What's in Montana?"

"Haunted hotel. Apparently they started some renovations on the top floors a few weeks ago and since then members of the construction crew have been dropping like flies," Dean explained.

"Can I come?" I asked. Sam and Dean both stopped and looked at me. I turned around and looked back at them. "Come on. I'm on break from school. I have nothing to do here except lay around in my pajama's all day. Please, guys! I miss you and I need some excitement."

"This isn't the kind of excitement you want," Sam warned.

"Why not? I've heard the stories. I've wanted to go on a hunt since I was ten."

"There is no way Dad would let you go," Dean told me.

"Never know until we ask."

"You don't know anything about hunting."

"I know a lot. And I can learn."

"No. No way," Dean said shaking his head.

"Dean," Sam said slowly. Dean looked over at his brother.

"What? You can't be serious. Seriously, Sammy?"

"Why not?"

"Cause we can't drag her into this."

"Oh, come on, Dean," I sighed. "I'm already pretty involved."

Dean started to argue but instead let his head fall forward and sighed frustrated.

"Whatever. You can ask Dad but I promise he's going to say no."

When John arrived later that day I was nervous and excited. I'd been thinking about how I would ask him all day but I knew Dean was probably right and no matter how I phrased it John would say no. The Impala pulled up and I met him outside so my foster parents couldn't hear the topic of conversation. Sam and Dean came out behind me.

"That ready to get rid of them, Red?" John asked when I ran up to him.

"Actually, I've got a question. And I know it's going to sound crazy and you're going to say no but just hear me out, okay?"

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Can I go on this hunt with you guys? Please, John?" John looked from me back to his sons then back to me.

"Robin-"

"John, I know it's dangerous but shouldn't I know? I mean since I already know what's out there. This is a simple hunt too. Just a ghost. I can help. I've got nothing better to do."

"You don't even know how to fight ghosts."

"You can teach me. And I already know a lot. Salt and iron get rid of them temporarily and you've got to salt and burn their bones to get rid of them for good."

"Dad, it is an easy hunt," Sam spoke up. John looked back at him. He seemed to be thinking it over.

"You two going to watch after her?" he asked.

"Yes sir," Sam answered. Dean didn't say anything.

"Dean?"

"Yes, sir. We'll watch her," Dean replied reluctantly.

"Go ask Frank and Ann if you can come with us. Say it's a skiing trip or something. If they'll let you come then you'll need to pack enough for a few weeks."

After getting my foster parents to agree on letting me go 'skiing' I packed a bag and left Lawrence in the Impala with the Winchesters. I sat in the back with Sam and watched as Kansas flew by me.

"Are we going to Bobby's?" I heard Dean ask looking out the window.

"Yeah. Red needs to learn some things before we take her out on a hunt."

"Who's Bobby?" I asked.

"He's like our uncle," Sam explained.

"Another hunter. He's a friend," John told me.

We pulled into a salvage yard in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Rusted and broken cars filled the yard and the house looked as though it had seen better days. I looked over at Sam curiously but he didn't seem affected by the rough looking property.

We got out and before we took a step towards the house the door swung open on the porch and a bearded man stepped out with a shotgun in his hand. I stepped towards Sam and kept my eyes on the gun in the mans hand.

"Well, hey there John," the man greeted.

"Hey, Bobby. I need a favor."

"Sure. Need me to watch the boys?" he asked and his eyes fell on me and his eyebrows furrowed.

"No. I need their help. Actually, I need to give a class on Hunting 101." Bobby nodded slowly. "Bobby this is Robin Browning. She lived next to us in Lawrence. Wants to get into the hunting business. Robin this is Bobby Singer."

I held my hand out nervously for the older man to shake. He took it and looked me in the eye.

"So, this is Miss Red that the boys talk about so much. You sure you wanna get into this sweetheart? It's a rough business." I nodded confidently.

"Yes sir. It's what I want to do."

"Alright then. Guess we've got a few things to teach you," Bobby said and nodded towards his house.

We followed him inside and I stuck close to Sam as I walked through the rooms with piles of books lining the walls and stacked in chairs. Newspaper clippings and notes were tacked to the walls. I thought maybe the man was crazy.

"What kinda job you headed to?" Bobby asked John.

"Haunting at a hotel in Montana. Shouldn't be anything too bad," John told him.

"Better teach the girl to shoot a shotgun then."

"Yeah. Thought you might have a few books she could read up on too."

"Sure thing. She know about saltin' and burning the bones?"

"Yeah. Knows most everything. Sam and Dean told her a lot."

I listened to John and Bobby talk as we followed them to the back of the house. I walked shoulder to shoulder with Sam and Dean was behind us. Or he was. When I turned around he was missing and I stopped walking to look around for him. I could see him through a doorway leaned back on a couch like he was at home. I guess if Sam and Dean trusted this Bobby man so much so could I.

Targets were set up along a fence line towards the back of Bobby's property. The targets consisted on empty beer cans and hub caps. John and Bobby stood back against a car talking and drinking, or as they called it, 'preparing more targets.' Sam stood to one side of me and Dean on the other holding a shotgun.

"Okay, so it's pretty simple. This is a pump action. You just put the shells in here," Dean said showing me around the sawed off shotgun. "These are salt rounds so instead of buckshot they are filled with rock salt."

"Would it kill a person?" I asked.

"No. It would hurt like hell but it probably wouldn't kill them."

"Have you ever been shot with one?"

"No. And I don't want to be so please keep the end of it pointed that way," Dean said pointing towards the targets and handing me the gun. "Alright, Sam. Shoot yours and go through the process slow so she can see."

I watched Sam as he loaded his gun, cocked it, and took aim then fired it. The noise was much louder than I had expected. Sam hit a can knocking it from the fence.

"Alright, your turn, Red," Dean said. "Hold it tight against your shoulder and line up the sights at the top." I did as he said and chose a hub cap to shoot at. "Alright, it isn't hard to hit something with a sawed off shotgun but you're going to want to breath in deep and when you breath out squeeze the trigger. Got it?" I nodded. "Okay, have at it."

I pulled the trigger like he said and the gun kicked backwards and I had to step back to catch myself from falling. My ears rang and my hands tingled with the vibrations. My eyes went to the hub cap to find that I hadn't hit it. My shoulder slumped disappointed.

"That's okay," Sam said.

"You said it was easy to hit things with this," I argued.

"It still takes practice," Dean said and stepped behind me. He pulled the gun back to my shoulder and placed my left hand on the underside of the barrel. "Okay, just like that. And this time don't close your eyes."

"I didn't."

"Yes, you did," Dean said stepping away.

I rolled my eyes and took aim again. This time I was determined to hit my mark and held my eyes open as I pulled the trigger. I watched as the hub cap flew off the fence.

"That's my girl," Dean laughed. Sam patted me on the shoulder and I smiled at him proudly.

Dean made me reload the gun and finish shooting the rest of the targets from the fence before I was allowed to quite. But I didn't mind. I liked shooting the shotgun.

When that was done I went inside and Bobby gave me a few books to read over while we ate. It was an unimpressive lunch of chili from a can and barbecue chips. The boys had beer with theirs since that's all that was in the fridge and Bobby gave me a glass of water from the tap.

After dinner it was dark out and we couldn't practice shooting anymore. I sat with Bobby and Sam in the library of his home and we went over the basic's on how to kill any kind of monster. Salt and burn the bones of ghosts, silver bullets for werewolves, cut the heads off of ghouls. I learned how to use an EMF meter and the proper pronunciation of Latin words often found in exorcisms.

By the time I was finally allowed to go to sleep I was exhausted. I didn't even mind sleeping on a blanket on the floor.

The next day I had a quick lesson on shooting a pistol which I picked up fairly quickly. We said a quick goodbye to Bobby and headed to Montana. I sat in the backseat and started reading some of the books Bobby had given me.

Soon enough we were pulling up to a large old building in Montana. John went in to check us into a room. He requested a room as high up as we could get. This got us closer to the renovations taking place.

I slung my backpack over my shoulder and headed to the room with the Winchesters. It was a double with a pull out couch. I sat my bag down on the couch and Dean sat his down next to it.

"Oh no, sister," he said. "You're bunking with Sammy. I get my own bed."

"Why can't you sleep with your brother?"

"Are you hearing what you're saying? Plus he kicks in his sleep."

"Dean, come on," I argued.

"Nope. Couch is mine."

"Fine." I moved my bag to the bed where Sam sat.

John started pulling out weapons from a duffle bag and setting them on his bed.

"Okay, Dean, I want you to go question the workers and see what you can find out about what's been going on. Take Robin with you so she can get the hang of it. Sam and I will see if we can find a way upstairs."

I went with Dean and paid close attention as he asked the hotel workers and the construction crew about the missing men and about the rumors of the place being haunted. I even had to sit through him flirting with the front desk clerk and telling her I was his little sister he had to watch after.

We met back up at the room and John and Sam had found a way to the upper floors and Dean and I had found out who the ghost likely was. The original owner of the hotel. He use to spend his last days in the top floors of the hotel looking out over the river. Now that they were renovating it he was getting angry.

"Great," John said. "Tomorrow we'll find out where this guy's buried and smoke him."

Turns out the man was cremated. This puzzled me. How could his ghosts still be here if his remains were nothing but ash?

"He must be linked to something. Probably something in the hotel," John said on our way back to the room.

"Like an object?" I asked.

"Yeah. Usually, something very special to the spirit."

"Like a rocking chair?" The three Winchesters looked at me confused. "Well, the front desk clerk. She said that there was a rocking chair in the attic that the man use to sit in when he looked out at the river. She said they keep it in the attic but sometimes they'll find it moved to the upper floors in front of a window. She said they always move it back but it seems to keep returning."

"Oh, yeah," Dean said. "She did mention that."

"Then let's go find the rocking chair," John said and headed for the stairwell.

Getting to the chair wasn't a problem. Getting the chair out and to a place where we could burn it was a different story. First, we had the employees of the hotel who probably wouldn't appreciate us stealing the antique chair. Second, we had to worry about the ghost of the old man.

I held the door open while Dean and John carried the rocker through it. I started to follow after them but the door was jerked from my hands and closed between me and the Winchesters.

"John!" I called pulling on the handle. "Sammy!"

"Robin, calm down. It's just the spirit," John said through the door.

"I can't open the door!"

"And you won't be able to as long as he's there. Look around. Do you see him?" I turned and looked around the dimly lit attic.

"No. I don't see him."

"He's there. You just might not be able to see him yet." I saw something flash out of the corner of my eye and jerked my head over to see an old man standing a few feet away.

"He's here!" I called.

"Robin, when I count to three you shoot him okay? One, two, three."

I shot through the spirit and he disappeared. At the same time I pulled the trigger, John pushed the door open. He grabbed me and pulled me through the door before the spirit could reappear.

"Let's go!" John said picking the rocker back up and heading down the stairs. Sam and I ran ahead and propped the doors open. We kept watch while Dean and John took the chair out a back door. We took the chair to the edge of the tree line at the side of the hotel and sat it there.

I turned to pull the salt and lighter fluid from the duffle bag Sam had and when I turned back around the old man was sitting in his chai.

"Guys!" I called pointed to him. Dean shot him and John grabbed the salt and lighter fluid out of my hands. He doused the chair with both, and Sam lit a match and threw it on the rocker. We watched it burn until there was nothing left but a pile of ashes.

"Well, Red, you wanna go back home and never talk to us again?" Dean asked.

"No way," I replied. "When's the next one?"

That Christmas I got a pistol from the Winchesters. Of course my foster parents were unaware and I hid it under the mattress in my room. I had a box of ammo containing normal bullets and silver ones. At the time I didn't know how important those silver bullets would be in about two years.