First chapter! I'm excited to see where this goes as regards popularity. I'm still halfway through the second chapter, which is the first chapter based on the show. I hope that by the time this story starts getting reviews, I'll be finished with the second chapter (which hopefully is sooner than later!)

Hope you guys like it!

Chapter One - Unintended.

Sam was still wary about Dean selling his soul, so as soon as he got to Bobby's he found refuge in the study, amongst the old books and mild stench of rotting food.

Dean sighed and shook his head. He thought that he'd make things better by bringing his brother back, but boy was he wrong. Right now he had two things on his to-do list: fix things between him and his younger brother, and hunt down the son of a bitch who stabbed his brother in the first place, Joshua.

Sam had been abducted to the middle of nowhere by Azazel, along with other people his age who had special abilities. Only one had to survive, and Joshua, a former marketing consultant, was willing to do everything to be that one, and that included stabbing Sam. He fled the scene before Dean could even react by shooting him dead. Sam later told him the man had the ability to light fire with his thoughts and sometimes using his hands.

"Boy, you doin' okay?" Bobby caught Dean by surprise, so much so that Dean nearly tipped over his bottle of beer. Bobby took the action as a silent 'no'. "I get why you did what you did, I really do. But you're still an idjit."

Dean looked down, his hands firmly wrapped round the bottle's neck. "I know Bobby. But I... I felt like I had to, you know? Sammy deserves to live."

"And you don't?"

Dean took a swig and changed the subject a little bit, trying to favour his situation. "He'll have a chance to live a normal life. You know, get married, have kids."

"Like I already said son, I knew why you sold your soul." Bobby patted his shoulder. "I called someone who can help us with your situation."

Dean's head shot up angrily. "You told others about my selling my soul?" He snorted, shaking his head. "Gee, thanks Bobby. What happened to the whole 'never trust anyone' policy huh?"

"This person happens to be the wisest hunter out there, knows all the lore. They could help you with the deal. You know, find some kind of loop hole."

Dean stood up, having finished his drink. "Look, I appreciate you trying to help and all. Call this guy and tell him not to come."

Bobby averted his eyes. Dean didn't like that look one bit. "Um, actually..."

"Actually what, Bobby?" Dean pressed on. Bobby stared back at Dean, but before he could open his mouth, the sound of a battered '65 Ford Transit and blasting music—Joan Jett and the Blackhearts—filled the background. "Is that... is that him?"

Dean ran to the front door, not even bothering to let Bobby reply, who ran after him. Dean opened the door and froze. No way in hell. Not her!

"You!" He exclaimed coldly. The girl rolled her eyes, smiling sardonically.

"Now, now, Winchester. Let's not get too excited there." She snapped, pushing him aside as she entered the house. Bobby stood there, mouth open. Obviously, this was his first encounter with Carly as his daughter, not Carly as his hunting partner. "Hey, daddy."

Dean closed the door. "Daddy?" What the fuck was going on here? Bobby has a kid? Since when? And why did it have to be that... that bitch?!

Bobby swallowed and laughed nervously. "Uh, Dean. Heh, funny story..." Dean gave him a look which said 'It's not' and crossed his broad arms across his chest. "Turns out Carly's my long-lost daughter."

"I'm more of a love child than a daughter." She flipped her ponytail over her shoulder. "Okay, let's get down to business." She rubbed her hands together. She had been itching for a hunt this excited for months. "Who's the dumbass that sold their soul?" Silence. By then, Sam had made his way to the living room, having heard the love-child proclamation from the den. She stared at each man standing before her, her eyes lingering over Dean longer than the others. She could see it in his eyes, like a silent yet at the same time very loud confession. "How long?"

Her sarcasm from before had been lifted from her body like a successful exorcism on a demon, replaced by disappointment. Well, so thought Dean and Bobby.

"A year." Carly snorted, looking away. She smiled, hiding the sadness that clouded her. Despite her past with the kid, she felt sorry for him. Him, and most of all, his brother Sam. "Well, a week less than that now." Dean smirked, trying to lighten up the mood.

"Not helping." Sam uttered through gritted teeth. Carly said nothing. She simply kept glaring at Dean, and Dean felt as if she was killing him slowly with her eyes.

"You're an idiot." She pointed out, laughing sarcastically. "Wow, even after all this time, you're still a jerk." And with that, she walked out the back door, slamming it behind her. Sam winced.

"You two worked a case together in the past?" Bobby asked. He had the father tone etched in his voice. He really didn't want his daughter sleeping around, especially with Dean.

Dean felt the tension rising rapidly, so he decided to tell him the truth... "Yeah. Before I went to Stanford to get Sammy." … which was only the smallest part of the whole truth. In fact, he and Carly worked on cases together for a whole month, which was also how long they slept together.

"Are you sure that's all?" This was the first time Sam spoke a word since arriving at Bobby's. "Because I have a feeling there's more to that."

"Yeah." Bobby shifted uncomfortably form one foot to the other, stroking his bearded chin. "And I have a feelin' I won't like the rest."

Dean took a deep breath. "I'm gonna go talk to her." He walked past Bobby and Sam and over to the back door. He found the slender, chestnut-haired girl inside her van. She had her arms crossed tightly across her chest, and she was chewing on her lower lip with frustration. He walked over to the driver's side and knocked gently on the window. She turned her head and rolled her eyes.

"I'm not talking to you." Carly said, her voice rising an octave to prove a point and stand her ground.

Dean chuckled. "You just did, chuckles."

She huffed in response, and glared outside her window. "You think you're so smart, huh. I mean, I always knew you were a bit of a smartass. But selling your fucking soul?!"

"You don't know why—"

Carly interrupted him mid-sentence. "Of course I know! You did it for your brother, didn't you?" Silence. "One doesn't have to be smart to figure that out." Even more silence. Carly could see she hit home, so as an attempt to make the argument slightly more bearable, she rolled down the window, which made the loudest squeaking sound known to mankind.

Dean winced and closed his eyes. "Jesus, Carls! Ever heard of a thing called oil?!" He yelled. Dean really thought he'd gone deaf from the sound. "God!"

"Sorry, I'll get it fixed tonight." She replied. But she knew better: she'd been promising herself the same thing for over six months now, since her mother's death. "So, Bobby tells me Sam got stabbed."

If Dean from a few weeks ago could see him now, blurting out his life story to some chick from his past. He'd probably hang himself, right after slapping some sense in himself. But he had to trust her; she could be his only hope in getting out of the deal. He may have joked about it with Sam and Bobby, laughing and shrugging the whole deal off, but he was scared as hell.

So he told her: about the demon that killed his mom, Jessica, Sam's visions, Meg, John's death... Everything poured out of Dean's mouth so naturally, even Carly was surprised at how much he trusted her at this point. She recalled how in the past, Dean spent the first couple of days in their short-lived relationship under a fake identity before he told her who he was and what he did for a living.

Surprisingly enough, she found herself listening to the poor guy's story... Not that she had a choice: he was leaning against her side of the car, otherwise she would have bolted off there and then if she knew what a sob story this would turn out to be. Or so she thought. Carly was genuinely interested in Dean's stories. It helped her understand who the fuck he really was, what he did, and why. On several occasions she couldn't help but gasp, which she thought was rather girly and new for her. How dare she glorify Dean, make him seem like some kind of hero?

Then it sank in: he was a hero. Just like her, he killed monsters and saved people's lives, most of the time risking his life for others. That... and she still was infatuated by him.

'Stupid good looks. Stupid sexy smile. Stupid charm!' she thought, and nearly sighed with relief when Dean finished his tell-all memoir.

"So, uh, Coop..." That nickname. Those pleading eyes. Carly stared ahead furiously, begging herself not to fall for any of his intentions. "What's your plan?"

Carly frowned. "Well, it's obvious. We kill every single son of a gun in our way for a whole year."

"No, I mean about my deal." Dean retorted. After a brief pause, he looked at her angrily. "You do have a plan, right?"

"Dean..." She sighed and ran her hand through her hair, gripping the steering wheel with the other hand so tightly her knuckles turned white. Dean swallowed a lump in his throat. This wasn't a good sign. "The only way for a deal to be broken is for someone else to take your place."

"Sam tried." Dean shrugged, letting his hands hit his sides as he put his arms down. "Nothing. Apparently Hell wants me down there."

Carly bit the inside of her cheek, averting her eyes. She opened her door and stepped out of her truck. "I'll do it."

Dean shook his head frantically. Was she being serious? "You're joking right?"

"Do I look like I'm joking? Dean, I'm nobody in the hunting world!" She yelled. "I have nobody. You have Sam and Bobby."

"Bobby won't allow you!" He yelled back, grabbing her arm before she could rush back inside.

"He's not the boss of me." She replied in her end-of-discussion tone. Looking down at his hand gripping her elbow, she murmured, "Um, can you let go of me?"

Dean reluctantly let go of her arm. "I still think this isn't a good idea." He pointed out as she re-entered her truck. "At least let me come with you."

Carly gave him a half-smile. "I'd rather do it by myself. I've got some things I don't want to share with you just yet." Dean raised an eyebrow. "It means I'm gonna use these secrets to get you out of that deal."

"What secrets?" Dean asked, but all he got in return was a small weak smile from Carly, who started her van. Dean closed his eyes and winced at the piercing sound of the battered engine and booming Foreigner song. "That engine—"

"Needs fixin', I know. I'll get it done tonight."

Yet another broken promise. And both of them knew it.

"Hey."

"What, Dean?"

Dean looked her in the eye. "Be careful."

"Yeah." And with that, she drove off, leaving a trail of dust behind her. Dean sighed and went back inside.

"Where's Carly?" Sam asked. The look Dean gave his brother was enough an answer. "And you didn't try to stop her?!" Dean said nothing in return and walked into the den, where he helped himself with some whiskey.

"What's wrong?" Bobby asked as he walked into the den. He sat down on the couch, where a stack of books stood next to him. "Where's Carly?"

"She went to a crossroads' demon." Sam replied for Dean. Bobby's eyes widened. "And Dean didn't stop her."

Bobby's nostrils flared with anger. How could Dean do something like this?! Especially to Bobby's own daughter!

"Are you out of your damn mind, boy?!" Bobby yelled, jumping up from his seat and grabbing Dean from his shirt.

"Whoa, Bobby!" Sam intervened.

"Look, I tried stopping her okay!" Dean yelled, both angry and scared of the man. "But she wanted to give it a try anyway. You think I'm happy about this? You think I want some innocent chick to die sacrificing her soul for me?!"

Bobby let go of Dean. "I just—She's my daughter. I don't know her well."

"Bobby, we won't let anything happen to her. We promise." Sam insisted.

"So what are we gonna do now?" Dean asked impatiently after a minute of silence.

"We wait."

The silence that clouded the house became unbearable first to Bobby, who after two hours of sitting around, got up, pushing his chair backwards, nearly knocking it down. Sam looked up from the book eh was reading, Dr Faustus, while Dean continued drinking his whiskey.

"It's been two goddamn hours. Now if you wanna sit around and wait for her, I won't." Bobby yelled.

"Maybe she's exorcising the demon." Sam suggested, trying to think positively of the situation. It didn't sit well with Dean either.

"Seriously, Sammy. That's the best thing you can think of?" Dean rolled his eyes and circled the rim of his glass with a finger. Sam shrugged innocently.

"I'm not the one who didn't try harder to stop her."

Resisting the urge to punch his little brother in the nose, Dean pointed out, "Not my fault she's a stubborn one." Smirking, Dean turned and looked over at Bobby, who was leaving her yet another voicemail. "She sure is your daughter, Bobby."

Bobby made a mimicking face at Dean and put his phone down. "Damn it, she's not pickin' up. Five more minutes and I'm goin' after her."

"We don't know which crossroads she's at." Sam replied.

"Probably the closest one to here." Dean contemplated. From afar, the sound of a battered engine was getting closer. Bobby sighed with relief. "Oh thank god." Dean murmured, getting up.

Sam got up and looked out the window, seeing the beat-up Transit coming to a halt.

Carly switched off the headlights and looked at her reflection in the rearview mirror. She poked her bruised cheekbone and winced. Bobby and Dean were going to kill her. Clutching her left side, she grabbed her keys and stepped out of the van. As soon as she did, Bobby, Sam and Dean rushed out of the house.

"Carly, are you okay?" Bobby frantically asked her.

At the same time, Dean asked, "How did the deal go?"

Carly winced. "One girl, one mouth, one question at a time."

Sam stifled a chuckle. He liked how straightforward she was for a girl her size. She really was Bobby's child.

"Mine first." Bobby jumped in. "I'm your father after all."

"I'm fine." Thank god it was too dark to see the severity of her bruised cheek. "Just got hit a little badly by the demon. I thought the guy wouldn't hit me because I was a girl." She hissed as she slowly walked back to the house, followed by the other men. "Boy was I wrong."

"So...? The deal?" Dean asked. Carly stopped, her hand pressed to the door.

"I'm gonna go take a shower." she softly changed subject and went in. Dean gulped, knowing from her tone that nothing changed. He was still going to die. Sam patted his brother's shoulder.

"Hey we'll find a way. We have a whole year." Sam smiled, but deep down, even he doubted there could be a solution.

Bobby went up the stairs and knocked on the bathroom door. "Carls, I prepared a room for ya." No reply. "Whenever you feel hungry, I have some mac and cheese, okay?" Once more, Bobby received no reply, so he simply walked away. On his way down to his den, he passed by Dean.

"How is she?" Dean asked. Bobby shrugged, his eyes clouded with sadness.

"She didn't talk to me. I think she might be hiding something." Bobby sighed. "I'll give 'er some space. Maybe talk to her before she goes to bed."

Bobby went down and Dean ran up the stairs to the bathroom. He knocked loudly, which gave Carly, who was sitting on an old, little stool, a fright. "Coop, talk to me." Not even giving her a chance to do so, he turned the knob. Just as he suspected: locked. Three even louder knocks. "Carls, open the damn door."

"Dean, I want to be alone right now." came the reply. She sounded like she was crying, which frustrated Dean even further. She looked at the bleeding scar on her side. Carly was becoming impatient of not being able to stitch the stupid scar properly. She needed Dean's help. Great. Carly exhaled. "Fine, just one second." She pulled down her tshirt and stood up to open the door, but paused before doing so. She opened the door just a crack. "Promise me you won't tell Bobby." She looked up at him. "The last thing I need is for him to worry about me."

Dean nodded. "Yeah."

Carly stood aside to let Dean into the bathroom, her back at him.

"The demon told me nothing can be done about your deal. Hell wants you down there for some reason. And there is no other loophole that I know of."

"It's okay, Coop. We have a whole year to figure it out." Carly turned around. Dean sighed when he saw her bruised cheekbone. "Oh Carly, what have you done to yourself?"

Dean walked up to her and gently brushed his fingers over her cheekbone, causing her to wince. "That's what you get for attempting to save a Winchester's ass." she joked to lighten up the mood. Dean let out the slightest chuckle. She frowned when Dean's expression softened as he kept staring at the bruise. "I've had worse than that you know."

Awkward silence filled the tiny room. For the first time in many years, Carly and Dean were alone. She could share things with him, and he with her. She could have told him she's sorry for breaking the Impala's windshield when she saw him kissing that blonde girl in the bar. And he could have apologised for nearly shooting her the first night they met (Thank god John was here, because with the fright she'd have given Dean that night he wouldn't have slept for weeks).

But their stubborn, emotionless characters would never allow that.

"I got shot about two years ago." Carly rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Wrong place at the wrong time." She explained. "And I was rushed to the hospital and, uh... I died for like, a minute or two." Dean's eyes opened wide. "Next thing I know, I had no entry/exit wound. And I didn't suffer any blood loss. Like I was never shot."

"And you're telling me this... why?"

"Means I know what it's like to die."

Dean smirked. "Were you in heaven or somethin' during that time? Did you shake hands with God or high-fived Jesus?"

Carly chuckled and gave Dean a friendly, gentle punch on the shoulder. "No. It was as if I was asleep. You'll be going into a deep sleep for eternity."

Dean made a face. "I don't want it to happen." Pause. His eyes stopped on her left side, which had a large spot of blood on the shirt. "What's that?"

Carly looked down and sighed. "Shit. I stitched it twice and yet I can't seem to close the damned wound!"

"I'll do it for you." Dean offered. It almost hurt seeing her bleed like that, even if it wasn't a fatal wound. As he took out a needle and gauze, he asked her, "Demon did that to you?"

"Not exactly." she replied. Dean sat down at the edge of the bathtub, while Carly sat on the stool next to him. "He pushed me while I was kicking his ass and I landed on some huge, pointy rock." Her gaze shifted to a piece of cloth covered with dirt and spots of blood on it.

"Good, good..." He gulped, looking at her shirt. "I, um... I need you to..." His gaze remained fixed to her side. Carly frowned but rolled her eyes when she realised what he meant.

He wanted her to take her shirt off.

"Jesus, Dean. It's not like you've never seen me with no shirt on! God!" She scoffed and slowly unbuttoned it, letting it fall on the floor. She mentally thanked her past self for putting on a camisole underneath the shirt. Instead of removing it too, she simply lifted it up to her chest, holding it up with her right arm.

"Shit, that' thing's nasty!" Dean exclaimed with a grimace.

Carly didn't sass him or deny it. One look at it when she went to the bathroom for the first time nearly made her physically sick to the stomach. It was a nasty scar, with an even nastier purple and yellowish bruise surrounding it.

She handed him the antiseptic. He opened it. "This is gonna hurt like a bitch, so I advise you to drink some whiskey or bite onto something."

"Your face hurts like a bitch." She snapped. "Now quit chatting and stitch the damn wound already!"

Dean immediately became sombre and nodded, needle at the ready. He cleared his throat as he scooted closer to her. From the pocket of his leather jacket, which he took off and put next to him, he took out a bottle of Jack.

"Here." He handed the bottle to Carly, who glanced blankly at the bottle which was then in her possession. "Take a swig whenever you feel the pain. It'll help."

She unscrewed the tap, took a sip and smiled at Dean. "Have I told you about the time I got shot?" Dean nodded. Her smile disappeared, an exasperated look replacing it. "I got stabbed three times, once before and twice after. And I was also thrown off a moving vehicle. I can deal well with pain. All I have to do is stare at the wall and I won't feel a thing."

"Okay, fine." Dean put the bottle back in the pocket and started stitching her side. Carly was being honest with Dean when she said she dealt well with pain. She'd hiss a few times when the needle felt cold against her flesh wound, but otherwise, she never screamed or winced.

Nothing hurt Carly anymore: not getting shot, tabbed or thrown out of a moving car...

… except being heartbroken by Dean Winchester.

Hope you liked this chapter! I enjoyed writing this chapter a lot. Just a small warning: since some chapter will be based on the episodes, they will be WAAAY longer than this one. So now you know!

You know the drill!... If you want more leave a review/favourite or whatever floats your ships because reviews give me motivation :)

reviews = high chance of a new chapter :3