Amelia, now 25 and a full four inches taller than she had been a decade earlier, was back home for the mid-term break in what was her last year of university, taking a long-deserved week away from her responsibilities and in the company of her wonderful godfather. She'd been stowed away in her bedroom for the best part of seven hours on the third day of her vacation and, as the old clock downstairs chimed 4pm, she placed her brush down into the tray and sighed contently, tired but proud of her own handiwork.
She rubbed a hand across her forehead, wiping the sweat away before placing a hand to her hip and taking one step back to look over her masterpiece; a mural depicting all the music of her favourite songs. The sheet music of particularly poignant lines with the lyrics underneath now decorated her walls. Not the most technically challenging thing ever created, but she dared anyone to draw that straight a line freehand. She turned back to look at the rest of the room, smiling at the bed fondly. She remembered when her Godfather Bobby had made a headboard in the shape of a pink castle for it when she'd first moved in. She had refused to get rid of it for years, in fact the only reason it wasn't there is because she was messing around one afternoon and it finally splintered after years of abuse and less than stellar building conditions.
She frowned in thought, tapping the handle of the paintbrush she had in her hand on her lips. Maybe she should paint one onto the wall. It was a bit bare. She looked down at her paints; white as the walls were, black for the music notes and red for giant pair of lips she had drawn on the other wall without a window of a door on it. 'Don't Dream It, Be It' scrawled underneath it in what she thought was beautiful lettering, if she said so herself. She'd need to get some pink. Home Depot didn't close until late, so Uncle Bobby could take her down to get some. She turned and headed down the stairs quickly, the tip of the toes grazing each one.
"Uncle Bobby, I'm gonna need some more paint!" She called, heading towards the study where she knew he would be. He had his back to the open doorway but her attention was immediately drawn to the two other occupants.
"Dean!" She exclaimed happily as Dean turned to her, a grin appearing as she disregarded Bobby and ran straight over to him. Sam smiled at how happy his brother suddenly was, grabbing hold of the young woman and pulling her in for a hug she returned happily. Very few things could pull that reaction out of his brother these days, and aside from apple and blackberry pie and Chuck Norris marathons, Amelia was it.
"Amelia!" Dean cried with a laugh, "Thought you were at college."
"Oh, that." She brushed off, pulling back, "Look at you, Mr Hunter. You've got all podgy since the last time I saw you." She poked his belly and he knocked her hand away with an annoyed grunt.
"Hey, I'm freakin' gorgeous." He defended. She couldn't stop smiling, her face actually starting to hurt as she turned to Sam. He was still freakishly taller than her and actually lifted her off the floor purely because he knew she hated it.
"I thought you were with your little fan club?" She asked the pair.
"Oh ha ha." Dean snapped, "Like to see how you react to having books written about your life."
"I'm sure that'll be real interesting." She retorted, "Girl goes to university to study English, sounds just as interesting as two homo-erotic brothers hunting demons."
"All right, enough flirtin'." Bobby snapped, "Perhaps we should get back to the matter at hand." Amelia nodded, sitting down on the sofa that lined one wall.
"What we hunting?" She asked, elbows on her knees as she propped up her chin with her hands.
"We're not." Sam replied, and she frowned in confusion, "Someone rang dad's old phone claiming to be his son. Didn't even know he was dead." Her eyebrows shot up and she sat straighter, leaning forward.
"Really?" She exclaimed, obviously not expecting that, "Why's he only ringing now?"
"He's not!" Dean snapped, "He's obviously not his son, we're walking right into a trap."
"Dean." Sam sighed. Dean had been arguing against going to see the supposed 'son' ever since they got the phone call, "He could be in trouble."
"He is trouble." Dean snarled, jabbing his finger towards the door.
"Sam's got a point." Amelia agreed and Dean stared at her, incredulous.
"I'm sorry?" He asked quietly, fuming.
"Look, I'm as shocked as you are." She lied, because it didn't surprise her. Nothing she ever found out about John surprised her, "But it's been two years. Now, if he is your brother – if" she reiterated as Dean opened his mouth to protest, "then why's he waited two years to call your dad? They can't have been close if he didn't even know he was dead."
"So?" Dean snapped, sullen.
"So... Why now? If he and his supposed dad don't get along, why ring now?"
"Because he's in trouble, and dad's the only one he knows can help." Sam finished, nodding his thanks to her as he sat on the arm of the sofa. She smiled, tilting her head slightly towards him.
"Exactly. Now, whether he is in trouble or he is the trouble is irrelevant, isn't it?" She pressed, "The fact that there is trouble should have you jumping into your car and speeding to..." She looked up at Sam, "Where?"
"Minnesota." Sam offered.
"Minnesota." She repeated, "But you're here arguing. Now, to me, that sounds like you have more of a problem with the fact that your dad lied to you than the fact it may be a trap." Sam could have laughed at the look on Dean's face, his mouth hanging open in shock and outrage as Amelia hit the nail right on the head. If Sam had even dared to suggest that, Dean would have ripped him a new one regardless of company, but Amelia always brought out a more subdued outburst.
"We're doing this my way." He demanded, looking between the two of them pointedly and Sam nodded eagerly, holding his hands up in surrender.
"Anything you want." He agreed as Amelia seemed to realise something, her eyes opening wide.
"'We'?" She repeated, "As in, we?" She motioned between the two Winchester brothers and herself, "As in, you, Sam and me?" She looked at him hopefully but Bobby shook his head.
"You know the rule." He told her firmly and she sighed in frustration. The rule had been a constant source of annoyance for the last six months or so. It had always been there; if she wanted to become a hunter, he wouldn't stop her, but she had to finish college first. She'd readily agreed, in fact it seemed like a good idea, and she'd always wanted to go. She applied to roughly a dozen colleges and universities and ended up doing a English degree roughly three hours away. She'd really enjoyed it for the first two years, and really it had all been going well up until that Christmas, after hearing one too many stories about the angel in a trench coat who'd brought back her best friend from Hell. She had yet to meet him, but as she never went hunting, or was away at college, she never had the opportunity to and it was really starting to piss her off. It had caused quite a few arguments between the normally amicable Godfather and daughter, and it seemed like this was going to be another one.
"Oh, come on!" She moaned, "I'm the same age as Sam, and he can do what he wants!" Sam winced at her bringing him into the fight. He'd hoped she'd leave him out for a least a little while. Dean shot him a smug smirk, obviously pleased after being ganged up on.
"I don't care." Bobby retorted, "You ain't going." She stood up, arms thrown out at either side.
"It's not even a proper hunt!" She argued before realising shouting hadn't gotten her anywhere before, so it wasn't going to work now. She sighed, relaxing her arms, "Look, Dean and Sam are going to be there, so I'm not going to be on my own." She reasoned, "And it's only like, an hour away. And..." She trailed off for a moment, thinking of anything else she could use, "And I'll take my books with me and I promise I'll study whenever I can." She could see her wasn't completely convinced, but she wanted to do this. Her, Sam and Dean on the road. She had thought that this would never be a possibility after Dean had died.
Amelia still wasn't over what had happened to him, still expected to wake up and for him to be gone forever. Dean had actually been good with her about it, considering he was the one who'd gone to Hell in the first place. He never made fun of her when she rang him up in the middle of the night to make sure he was still alive, and he'd text her just to say 'hi' because he knew what it meant to her. It was just like Dean, always thinking about everyone but himself.
She took a step towards him, her thoughts of him being dead again causing her to unconsciously shift nearer, as if her proximity to him would reassure her more that he was back from the dead actually than seeing and talking to him. Bobby noticed, he always noticed what she did and suddenly saw through her arguing for what it was. After all, she'd barely been able to spend any time with Dean or Sam since he was brought back from the dead.
"Have you done all your work?" He asked and her face broke out in a large grin, "'Cause if you have anything..."
"No, no I don't." She quickly reassured him, "I swear it." He sighed, not very happy at all.
"It ain't me you have to convince." He told her, basically giving her the blessing she was looking for. With an intake of breath she turned to look at Dean, eyes wide, waiting. She looked like a little kid, never mind the fact she looked younger than Sam ever had and his lip pulled up at one side, a smirk on his face.
"How can I say no to that face?" He told her and she squealed, actually squealed, and jumped up and down on the spot.
"I'll go get my stuff!" She exclaimed before rushing upstairs. Dean chuckled then turned to Bobby.
"I know, I know." He started before Bobby could say anything, "We've got her back, and if it gets out of hand we'll send her straight back." Bobby nodded once.
"Good." He snapped before sighing, "But she's not exactly a kid anymore, is she?" They could hear her stomping upstairs before, very quickly, running back down with a backpack on and a bulging messenger bag flung over her shoulder.
"That was... that was fast." Sam observed with a great deal of amusement and she nodded excitedly.
"I've been ready for this for years." She explained, out of breath. She patted the shoulder strap of the backpack, "This bag has four changes of clothes, deodorant, two cell phones, a couple of my credit cards, some make up..." Dean was laughing now, waving a hand to stop her list.
"Okay, Amy." He told her, "Go chuck it in the car." She nodded, dashing out and he looked at Sam, "Who knew we were so desirable?" Sam shrugged.
~0~0~0~
Sam opened the door to his and Dean's motel room, letting Amelia in while he held their dad's phone to his ear. She'd checked into her own room, the one next door, because who wanted to share a room with two oversized full-grown men? Well, actually, she thought they wouldn't want to share with her spreading out over every available space, but she wasn't complaining. King-sized beds were a luxury she couldn't normally afford, but seeing as she had to use her fake credit cards to not leave a trail, she decided it was time for a bit of comfort.
"No, no 11's fine." He reassured whoever he was talking to as she skipped over to Dean, university bag over her shoulder. It was bulging with her books but she pulled it onto her lap as she joined him on one of the double beds the room held.
"He talking to your little bro?" She asked him teasingly and he shot her a glare.
"He's not our brother." He snapped in reply as Sam ended the phone call.
"Right, we're meeting him at place called 'Cousin Oliver's' for lunch." He explained, sitting down on the other bed with his laptop, opening it up. Dean pulled a face, having been in a bit of grump the entire way there that hadn't seemed to have cleared up once they'd settled down for the night.
"So, is this when we research all the strange goings-on in the area and see how we can link it to this 'Adam' kid?" She asked.
"No." Dean scoffed, "This is where Sam researches while you get to studying and I..." He crossed his legs at the ankles and very dramatically turned the television with the remote, "catch up on my stories."
"Oh, come on." She groaned, "What's the point of me being here if I can't help?"
"Hey, you're the one who promised Bobby." He pointed out, "So, get to it. Chop chop."
"Chop chop." She grumbled, pulling her bag onto the bed, "You know, you used to be more fun."
"I'm not getting my ass kicked because you can't keep your promises." He told her with a grand air of finality, looking over her and watching whatever nonsense he'd put on the screen. Muttering under her breath, Amelia lifted the bag onto her knee and opened the first book she came across. She kept it in the bag just in case they needed to rush off without warning, but with the air of a small child, she reluctantly began reading. She had expected Dean to want to show her what he did when he was off with Sam. Obviously not killing things every moment of the day, but he was normally full of stories about him and Sam on the road, little mini adventures that didn't involve the supernatural in any way. She liked the hear about them, because most of the time they sounded like two brothers on a road trip rather than hunters, and she'd hoped she might get roped into one herself. A story they could share, because they were becoming fewer and farther between these days.
Dean chuckled along with the canned laughter on whatever black and white show he was watching as she turned the page, barely looking at what was written on any of them. She'd seen the words and drawings so many times before, it was mainly diagrams and she knew she could draw them off by heart. Maybe that was the problem, that it was Dean and Sam, not Dean, Sam and some chick who'd decided to tag along. Perhaps he hadn't wanted her to come along at all, and she'd just hitched herself onto them anyway.
A sideways glance at Sam showed him staring intently at the screen in front of him, using the mouse pad to click on something. She'd not even asked Sam if it was okay. Maybe he wanted it to just be him and his brother. She had just clung to one word for dear life, like a child.
She was just sick and tired of feeling useless, sat hundreds of miles away from home, everyone she considered her family saving the world, fighting the badness and the darkness while she'd been reading Tess of the fricking d'Urbervilles. She loved books, it was the sole reason she took English as her major, but Jesus Christ, she couldn't make it to the end of that piece of trash. How was she supposed to force her way through reading, or studying, or writing ridiculously long essays about subtext or cultural merit while there were people dying out there?
She slammed the book close with an angry sigh, chucking her bag on the floor, much to the surprise of the two men.
"It's all bullshit!" She cried, standing up, "I'm going to get some snacks." She stormed towards the door, snatching Dean's wallet from the side as she left. Dean looked at Sam as the door slammed shut.
"What the hell was that?" He asked, confused and Sam shrugged.
"Something she read?" He offered. Dean climbed off the bed, picking up the keys as he followed her, "Amy, wait!" The door shut behind him, leaving Sam there. He walked over, picking up her discarded bag, slightly surprised at the weight of it. It brought back memories of his own time at university, carting everything he had to every class in case he needed it. Jess had always tried to get him to loosen up a bit, he really didn't need his first year books in his fourth, after all. It'd never worked, he had kept everything close. Everything but what had mattered, in the end.
Tearing himself out of depressing thoughts of a past he couldn't change even if he tried, he sat it on the bed, the bag falling over and a book slipping out. He lifted the flap to push it in and frowned at the book's title. He'd seen that book before. He picked it up and flicked through it, seeing symbols and rituals he'd seen so many times over his lifetime. This was one of Bobby's demon books. He looked down at the bag, his brows knitted together then at the book again. There was no way she was studying this at University.
~0~0~0~
Amelia pushed some of Dean's money into the vending machine, not really caring that it wasn't hers. She didn't even know what she wanted, apart from M&M's she didn't really like candy. She was more a chips kind of girl, but the vending machine was out of them. As was her life, apparently. A press of 'A7' had a packet of mints dropping down with a thud, and a couple more coins later she had a can of Coke to go with them.
She didn't even like mints, why the hell did she even buy them? Probably just to spite Dean, the jackass. She deflated slightly, pocketing the mints in her jeans. That wasn't fair, it wasn't his fault she hated University. She shouldn't take it out on him, she'd pay him back in the morning.
"So, did Harry die and Voldemort win, or summat?" She glanced over her shoulder to see Dean leaning on the corner behind her, his eyebrow raised and she shook her head.
"Harry dies, but so does Voldemort." She corrected with a small smile, "Mint?" She pulled them out and offered him one. He shook his head, pushing off and uncrossing his arms.
"So, if Hogwarts is safe, why the hissy fit?" He pressed and she opened the can, taking a swig with more force than was needed. Dean didn't approve of angry drinking soft drinks rather than booze, but at least it wasn't Diet. He'd caught her when she'd been a teenager drinking Diet Coke, and her answer of 'Because it'll help me lose weight' had him screaming at her for hours. She wasn't going to make that mistake again.
"I just can't stand it there, Dean." She cried, "It's driving me fucking insane! And I know I promised Uncle Bobby, and I hate letting him down but I lost my job last month and I'm running out of money and I don't know what to do anymore!" She took another aggressive chug of her soda, "It's all a fucking sham, Dean!"
"I thought you were enjoying it there." He replied, "You were always such a book nerd." She smiled half-heartedly.
"I am a book nerd." She corrected, "It just all seems so pointless, you know? The pair of you are out saving the world, and I'm sat in front of the computer wondering how to best describe a person as a dick without actually using the word 'dick'." She shot him a look, "It's 'a misinformed, self-indulgent socialite', in case you were wondering."
"That does sound gripping." Dean retorted, walking over and putting his arm around her shoulder, "It can't be all bad, though. What about your room-mates? All them late night pillow fights must be awesome." She rolled her eyes.
"That doesn't actually happen." She told him yet again.
"Hey!" He snapped, "Don't lie to me. I know they happen, every dressed in skimpy outfits, testing out their sexuality." He wiggled his eyebrows even as she nudged him in the side.
"Do I have to tell Uncle Bobby you're perving on me again?" She wanted.
"I'm not perving on you." He defended, "I'm perving on everyone else."
"Oh, so I'm not good enough for you to perv on now?" She teased and the pair started chuckling.
"Alright, alright." He declared as they headed back to the room, "No studying required, when we take you back I'll lie my ass off to Bobby and hope he doesn't notice." She beamed, hugging him tightly around the waist.
"You're the best, Dean." She told him and he nodded.
"Yeah, I am." He replied. He opened the door and Sam looked up from the laptop, giving them both a nod in acknowledgement.
"So, best I can tell, Adam Milligan is real..." He started, turning the laptop around to show them what he'd dug up.
~0~0~0~
I had planned to have this up yesterday, but alas, I was struck down with a migraine, so here we are :)
I've been struggling to start the fic properly, everything I wrote seemed so forced, so I decided to just go with forced and get it out of the way XD
Notes on reviews, other than there were so many! I'm still so surprised at that, pleasantly so but still :O
There's no update schedule at the moment, no. There may be one once I've finished Aftermath, but we'll have to see :)
Ah, the singing ;) That'll be the slow-burner of the story, so while we'll see it again pretty soon, why it's there might take a while.
There'll be more Britishness in this one, I'm sure. I tried my best, so again, let me know and I'll change it. I am British, but British!Dean... Yum ;P
Although I've not planned for it, if y'all want to read her as British, you're more than welcome ;)