MANDATORY A/N: So a couple of quick things that you need to know before you move forward. First, I made some changes to the past chapters. Things like changing and adding scenes to chapters two and three. Those scenes many not seem to have a major effect in this particular chapter, but as the story goes on, they will. I also mended the previous chapters so that they flow better and the grammar and whatnot is more diverse so to speak. Basically you might want to go back and read the first three chapters before you read this. I know I'm sorry, but it'll be helpful in the long run. Last but certainly not least, I plan to be posting more in the new year, I don't know if I said that for my previous stories, but specifically for this story I want to post more and to the point where it is on a regular basis. Don't ask me when that is going to be because I don't know yet; I just know that is one of my major new year's resolutions. Sorry for any fans of my other stories, that means those might be on hiatus for a while, but that does not mean I am giving up on them. The only other story that I know that I want to keep up with in 2017 is Together; that's a DCU story that I started in 2014. Way too long ago, so you see why I need to get back with it. I'm working with it right after I post this, so if you are a fan, be looking for a new chapter for that soon.

BTW: I meant to say this in like chapter two or three, but I decided to make the reader's hair color any color even though pretty much everything else is decided for her because she is Winchester born because I wanted you guys to have a little more control over something. Think of her as like dyeing her hair or something. You're welcome.

This chapter was titled before I went back and decided to make all of the chapter based off songs. Also because I couldn't find a good song and this title just seemed to stick with me. Sorry if you don't like it. My story anyway.

To Stanford and Back

It's around October of 2004 when Dad sends me to California to check out what seems to be another vamp nest just outside Palo Alto, while he and Dean finish up with straightening out everything with our last hunt just outside Vegas.

Not that I mind the eight and a half hour bus ride where I can enjoy the time I have all to myself without having to worry about the possible hunt that awaits me in the next state. It's not actually until I check into the motel three miles from the bus station that I start to realize where I am and that I shouldn't think about it.

I should ignore the fact that only a few miles down the street is the Stanford University campus, and that at anytime I could run into my big brother, Sam. Should being the operative word in that exceedingly long sentence. But the chances that would happen are frighteningly high, and as much as the majority of me is still pissed and heartbroken at when he did, a small part of me misses my brother and urges me to figure out why he didn't come for me, and that surprise me.

That part of me that had locked away after I began to hunt with Dean and Dad, I can hear her screaming in the back of my mind. She sounds hoarse, and her voice bloodied from all the screaming she has been doing since she has been locked away, but it doesn't seem to deter her. If anything, it pushes her to scream louder, to scratch and claw at the walls I set up around her in my brain to keep her in and this new me out here – probably to get this message to me.

But the new (Y/N) Winchester remembers the promise Sam made that night in Mesa, Colorado. Three months, give or take, he had said. That was two and half goddamn years ago and not so much as a fucking phone call. The new (Y/N) couldn't give a damn whether or not her big brother is living out the normal life he claimed he wanted so fucking bad. If he was willing to sacrifice his family – her – for it, then so fucking be it.

She is the force that keeps the other girl back and out of the conscious part of my mind so I don't do something irrational or stupid.

Weak is more like it.

Once I get situated in the motel room, I realize that I have two options, neither of which seem very appealing to me in the slightest. I could either stay here and see how much more I can find out about the case I thought I caught wind of here and wait for my father and eldest brother to get here before getting out there and increasing the risk of running into our missing link. Or I could go out there now and face the music and stop being such a scary little bitch and talk to some of the people around the town and ask who knew about what and get this fucking job done and put Stanford in the Impala's rearview mirror.

Getting up from the bed farthest from the door, which I had haphazardly thrown myself onto when this conundrum worked its way into my head, I take my laptop out of my backpack and place it on the small table in the room, having come to a compromise in my head.


"So Lindsey was in your English class, and Andre was a friend of a friend." I re-read what I have written down on my yellow legal pad in front of me back to the ravenette before me, making sure I have all the information correct.

Since I'm only sixteen and look only slightly older than my age, I can't get away with impersonating an FBI agent like my father and brother – at least Dean can say he's like a rookie or a trainee or something – so here I am as a rookie reporter – because that actually worked – trying to write a story about a couple of missing college kids from one of the most prestigious schools in the country.

I decided I wasn't going to sit in the damn motel room and be scared of a confrontation with my brother was highly unlikely. Like a 1 in 17,000 chance kind of unlikely, and that was just counting the students on campus who were supposed to be there. So after I took a little more time to look up a bit more about the case, I put on the only professionally casual pants suit I owned – which was more casual than professional in my opinion, but it would give the right idea – and made my way to question some of the students, hoping someone could tell me something about the two vics.

I thought hitting up one of the local college pubs would be my best bet, but most of the people I talked to seemed more concerned with starring in some no name paper as opposed to actually telling me some facts about the dead kids.

I mean most of the kids' info is on the internet; they're just telling me stuff I already know.

I have been here an hour, talking to a bunch of dumbass, self-absorbed college kids and am about to call it a day before this blonde waves me over. I'm tempted to ignore her, but the logical part of my brain tells me to give her a chance.

Turns out, giving her the benefit of the doubt is the right way to go. She is able to tell me more than any of the jackasses I have talked to combined, who seemed to have read everything about the two kid off the school's website and memorized it by heart, specifically for the 'opportunity' I was offering. Albeit, she isn't offering much, but it is something.

"Yes, I hadn't known either of them for very long, but I did consider them to be my friends."

When she spoke, I could see and hear the sincerity in her words, whereas with everyone else I have talked to it's been but bullshit and barely anything new about either vic. This girl, though, she seems to be the first sympathetic – humane – person yet.

"My boyfriend actually knew Andre longer than I did, albeit not by much. Lindsey, Andre, and I had a study group that meets on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so I got to see them both pretty regularly. You're actually more likely to get a better connection out of the two of us than any of the assholes you've been talking to." She gestures to the patrons around us, minding their own business; some being people who I previously spoke with.

"What makes you think they don't have anything meaningful to say?" I ask her as I push my black, thick-rimmed, fake prescription glasses farther up my nose, a small smile hidden behind the curtain of long (H/C) hair.

"Listen, kid, most any college student would give their undivided attention to a kid in your position if it meant they got their fifteen minutes of fame. Even if it meant bullshitting their way through the entire interview and squandering the names of two dead kids they could care less about along the way."

She takes my hand in hers and leans in closely to me, forcing me to reel my hunter instincts back, which are screaming at me to grab the knife in my inner jacket pocket, but something in her eyes makes me relax.

"Don't let people take advantage of you. Ever. It limits and degrades you as a person. Go your own way do your own thing, and have the strength to pick up on when someone is using you for their own personal gain. Don't conform to their will." Something in the way she speaks tells me that she is speaking from past experience.

Usually, I would have a problem with anything touching me, let alone calling me 'kid' or implying that I'm weak or gullible and conforming, that was the old (Y/N). But something about this girl in front of me makes me think about something I'm not ready to acknowledge yet.

I pluck at one of the rubber bands on my wrist as inconspicuously as I can and take a deep breath, but she must see something on my face and hear the rubber band snapping against my skin because the next the thing she does is back off.

"Sorry," She speaks up again after staring intently at me for a long enough period of time for my thought to venture into places they have no business, and releasing my hand – I sorta miss the contact now that it's gone. "I just have a problem with people taking advantage of others, no matter how big or small the situation. Yours is no different."

"No," I say quickly, a light laugh bubbling out of me to try and lighten the mood at the slightly startled look on her face. "I mean, it's okay. I used to have issues with bullying and letting people walk all over me. I guess I'm not quite over it yet." Well that part of me is still locked away even though it's not really who I am anymore, so it's not a complete lie.

The blonde only stares into her drink as she plays with the straw, a smile playing at the edges of her lips. I know what she wants to say, but I don't want to hear it. He used to say the same thing.

I pop myself once more before asking, "So where is this boyfriend of yours? Any chance I could talk to him?"

"Maybe. I would have to talk to him and see what he says." She takes a sip of whatever fruity drink she ordered before I arrived at her table. "He's been really busy lately. Cramming for midterms and whatnot like the cute little nerd I know he is."

The way she smiles when she talks about this guy, she cerulean blue eyes crinkle tightly at the corners, revealing just how happy is just to be talking about her boyfriend. I can only imagine how she interacts with him; I can tell she probably loves him, and I'm almost willing to bet money that he feels the same way about her. Reminds me of how me of how Sam used to b–

God (Y/N), stop it! He's gone, and he's never coming back for you!

Before I can reach for my wrist again – which burns like a motherfucker – I feel my phone vibrate in my blazer pocket on the back of the chair, indicating that I have a new message. I glance up at the blonde in front of me, smiling apologetically at the interruption. She only nods in understanding and signals to the waitress for the check.

As the red-headed woman – Lily, her nametag says – comes over and hands off the check, asking if either of us need anything else, I open my phone to see that Dean had texted me to ask what motel I had checked into and telling me to meet him and Dad there.

After I send off my reply, I pocket my phone and stand up, the blonde doing the same.

"Can I get your number for if your boyfriend has anything to say?" I ask her as we both put on our jackets.

"Sure."

She takes out her phone, and we swap; it's not until just then that I realize that I haven't gotten her name or even given her my own until I look back at my phone.

"Thanks for talking with me Miss Moore; you've been a big help," I say as we walk out into the cool October air.

"Anything to help. And please," She shoots me a bright smile that I can't help but return. "Call me Jessica."


When I get back to the motel, I see the Impala in front of the room I checked into. Guess they found the spare key I left in the bushes.

"Hey little sister," Dean greets me from the bed farthest from the door as I walk into the room. I've been bunking with him since Sam left. Dad's a wild sleeper and not every motel has a couch, so it's either this or the floor.

"Find out anything new about this supposed case?" Dad asks me as he walks out of the bathroom, cutting me off and jumping right to business.

"Hi, Dad. Nice to see you too." I let the sarcasm drip heavily from my voice as I speak.

Dean looks up from whatever he's messing with in his bag to look at the two of us, his eyes pleading with me not to start anything. Not that I care much.

Dad tries to pin me with a hard stare, showing me that he isn't amused with my attitude in the slightest. Again, I don't care.

Ever since Sam left and I decided depression wasn't a suitable color on me and became the hunter that I was always meant to be, my attitude has become something to be desired to others. Especially my father. Before I wouldn't have been so bold as to, sass or back talk him, but he deserved it in my opinion. He's one of the main reasons why Sam's gone. Don't get me wrong, Sam's a dick for leaving –me – us, but Dad is what pushed him away, in my opinion, not only to leave, but to stay gone. So forgive me if I can't always be the obedient soldier that Dean is when this man pushed away his own son and the one person who meant something to me and doesn't even see that he's done wrong!

After a moment more of tense silence, and intense staring, I let out a humorless huff and walk over to the table near the door where my laptop still sits.

"Lindsey Wallace and Andre Trebek were found drained of all their blood two days ago behind a Biggerson's a few blocks from the campus. They had been reported missing three days before their bodies turned up. No one I talked to seemed to know anything about them, save one girl. Jessica Moore and her boyfriend knew the vics. Her, from a study group, and I don't know about the boyfriend. He wasn't with her. She's supposed to call and tell me what he says and if we can talk face to face."

At this point, I have pulled up the website for my classes in one tab and the public records on the dead kids in another.

"As far as I know, they don't seem to have anything in common aside from attending the same study group, but you might want to talk to the cops about anything else on this supposed case."

"Then that's what we'll do." Dad has his fed suit in his hand and the door closed before he's finished his sentence; I can tell my words had an effect on him due to the force he uses when the door slams shut.

Dean looks at the bathroom door while I start to log onto the website for my classes on my laptop and though I don't look up at him, I can feel this disappointing gaze on my face and try not to let it bother me.

Fifteen minutes later, I can hear the Impala peel out of the motel parking lot, both Winchester men as her occupants.

I do my part by finding the hunt and talking to a couple of people around the school; they can handle the rest while I get some of my school work done.


Two and half hours and a Pepsi later, I shut the lid of my laptop with a tired sigh. Sometimes I think I should focus more on hunting than I give the little bit of time I do for the school because, what's the point?

It isn't like I'm going to do anything with a high school diploma, and I'm not going to college or some alternative form of higher education, Sam took all those dreams with him when he got on that Greyhound bus. But being here at Stanford is making me think, even if just for a second, what it would have been like to give up the hunting life and escape here with Sam.

I would have finished up with my classes online, like I have been, and maybe even gotten a scholarship like Sam. Everyday he would have come home to me; no one would've known who we were, so we wouldn't have to hide our relationship. Regular dates and maybe even something more one day that we could invite the friends that we made along the way to.

This would be a life with friends away from the hunting gig, so we wouldn't have to worry about them or us one day waking up to some creeper in the night looking for a midnight snack. No. We would have left all that behind when he came back for me, but… he never did. At least he got his freedom. Hope it's nice.

I don't think you're for this jelly (X3)

'Cause my body's too Bootylicious for ya babe

The beautiful trinity that is Destiny's Child snaps me back to reality. I pick up my phone and am surprised when I see Jessica's name illuminate my screen. I hit the green phone button beneath my screen and put the device to my ear.

"Hello?" My voice breaks when I speak, causing me to clear my throat.

"Hey, (Y/N), are you alright?" Her tone holds genuine concern, and I have to wonder why she seems to so nice to someone she doesn't even know.

I sniffle a bit and bring my hand to run over my face, which to my surprise, is wet. Apparently, I had begun to cry a while ago, and I hadn't even realized in until now.

God, not this again. Get your shit together (Y/N)! You're not weak!

"Yeah, I'm okay. Might be losing my voice is all. What's up?" I try to change the subject, hoping she just lets it go.

"Alright," She doesn't sound convinced, but she does let it go. Thank God. "My boyfriend can't talk with you, he's really busy. I'm sorry."

Truthfully, I'm not all that upset. I get that people get busy and just can't sometimes be bothered, which is exactly what I tell her.

"He would have talked to you if he could, but now is a really busy time for him with midterms and everything. He got here on a full scholarship and just wants to keep his grades up. This just means a lot to him."

"Wow. Tell him congrats for me." I'm truly impressed. "Hey, Jessica? Since your boyfriend can't talk to me, do you think I could sit in on your study group tonight and talk to some of them?"

"We actually canceled tonight's meeting because of what happened, but you can come on Thursday."

"That would be great. Are you sure it's not an intrusion or something? I wouldn't want to get in the way or anything." I want to be sure I'm not overstepping.

"No, no. It's fine. People sit in on these things all the time."

"Alright."

"I'll call you Thursday afternoon –you know what? Meet me at the pub at 5:30 on Thursday instead."

"Ok. Thanks again Jessica."

"No problem."

I hang up the phone just as Dean walks back into the room, a bag of food and tray of drinks in his hands.

"Hey. Where's Dad?" I ask, taking some stuff from him and placing it on the table.

"He went to talk to the guy's parent's since they live about an hour from here. He'll be back later on tonight."

I make a noise of confirmation as I take a bite of my grilled chicken sandwich. I hadnt even realized how hungry I was until Dean got back with food.

The two of us sit in a confortable silence as we eat, the only audible sounds coming from one of us as we take a bite and chewing.

Dean gets up after a while to throw away his trash then begins to move towards the door.

"Where are you going?" I ask, sitting straighter in my chair.

"Out to interview some more people." He says, only pausing briefly to glance at me before continuing on his way to the door.

"Cool. I'll go with you. I'm not doing anything anyways." I say, getting up to throw my trash away and follow him out the door.

"No," He says before I can do so much as stand.

"And why not?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest and narrowing my eyes at him, daring him to say something bad or stupid.

"Because I might need to question some cute college girls and there's no way in hell I'm bringing your ass to mess it up I don't want to have to worry about you." Dean uses his annoying big brother voice as though that will cause me to back off. It won't.

"What about it I promise to stay out of your way and stay away from the motel if you bring someone back? I'll even cover for you." Knowing Dean, he would more than likely be back later than Dad tonight.

"No, because if Dad sees you walking alone in the dark, he's gonna kick my ass and I'm not taking another beating for or because of you."

I roll my eyes with a sigh. "That was your own fault for not taking me back to the motel when I asked. I didn't want to be there anymore, and you weren't ready to leave."

"Which is exactly why you're staying here." He takes a threatening step towards the table when he sees me open my mouth to protest. "And if you don't, I'll tell Dad about your little escapade in Montana."

My eyes widen in fear at the threat, unsure if I'm willing to take the chance on whether or not he's bluffing.

I had told Dad that I was going to do research for a project at the local library in Montana, but in all actuality, I was going to take care of the ghost we had been in the town to handle, on my own.

Dad thought we had salted and burned the bones of the right ghost, but it turned out that the woman's husband had been the one killing people, she was just trying to warn the victims before her husband got to them.

I thought I could handle it on my own, but I grossly underestimated the vengefulness of the spirit. If Dean hadnt followed me, I would be dead. Not a very exciting thing to tell John Winchester. But Dean swore he wouldn't do that. Until it suited him apparently.

"You wouldn't dare." My voice is low and menacing, more so than I ever heard it, but Dean doesn't seem bothered, and if he is, he sure as hell isn't gonna show his baby sister.

He leans closer to that our faces are inches apart, a cocky smirk sits on his face that makes me want to punch him.

"Try me."

We hold each other's gazes for a moment, neither of us daring to look away, lest we give the other something to make themselves feel better about.

But at the end of the day, it kills me to admit that Dean has the upper hand; I know he won't hesitate to use what he has against me, even if it's only for a quick fuck. And I'm really not in the mood to deal with the consequences right now.

I'm the first to break eye contact, my eyes downcast towards the table in defeat, though my face still scrunched up in defiance.

Dean, on the other hand, lets out a triumphant huff at my inevitable surrender; I am so glad I can't see the smug look I know sits on his annoying as fuck face.

"That's what I thought." He says before he makes his ways towards the door, his set of the motel keys jingling as he twirls them on his index finger. "Don't wait up for me."

He's gone before I can say anything in response.


Sitting on the bed Dean and I share, I flip through the selection of extremely basic channels provided to guests at the motel. Nothing's ever on tv. My flicking through the twenty-three channels I have to choose from proves that.

I finally decide to turn off the dinosaur device and fling the remote somewhere onto Dad's bed. I flop back with an irritated groan.

Now's one of those times where I really miss Sam, even though my mind keeps trying to push thought's into my head to make me forget about him. But I can't help it.

This time instead of reaching for the wrist, I reach for my neck. I pull the necklace Sam gave me that night out from underneath my shirt where it has been hidden for so long and hold it between my fingers, playing with it a bit.

Right about now is around the time where Sam would ask me some crazy question that would make me laugh in order to evade boredom. Or he would crawl into bed with me and kiss me ever so hesitantly like it was the first time. That would make out pulses race and our breathing speed up as adrenaline pumps steadily through our veins until we are heatedly making out like some hormonal teenagers – which we are.

We never got farther than simply making out and intimate touches, but it was a time we both loved, and he would never push me to do something I wasn't ready for, no matter how much time we had together.

He used to tell me that for my first time, he would take me somewhere private and quiet, away from Dean and Dad and just everything. He would take care of me and it would be special and wouldn't end until the sun came back up.

That's what I miss most about my brother. The fact that he wasn't just my brother. I know it's wrong to think of him as anything more, to want to have my first time to be with him, bit I don't care. Neither of us did.

Yeah, when he was here I was terrified of Dad and Dean finding out, but Sam promised to take me away so I wouldn't have to worry about that. Another broken promise courtesy of Sam Winchester.

All of a sudden, I jump off the bed and throw on my boots. I'm not gonna sit here and be that miserable girl that only gets joy from thinking about her past relationship. I'm gonna get my ass out there and find a way to really forget about Sam. However I can.

So what if Dad's pissed when he comes back and I'm not here after dark? Or Dean tells my dirty little secret? I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

With that in mind, I head out the door, the slight chill from earlier an eager greeting on my overheated skin.

Another quick BTW: I think I bumped up when Sam and Jess started dating. In the show I think they dated for six months or a year before Sam decided to propose, the time he proposes isn't gonna change, but the time in this chapter is a about thirteen months before Dean has to go get Sam because their dad goes missing, so IDK at the moment. I'll figure it out, but I thought I'd let ya'll know just in case they haven't been together for as long as the story is implying. I know that, I did it on purpose.

A/N: Okay so when I was writing this I honestly didn't realize that I used the little girl's name from the original Halloween series, Lindsey Wallace. It was a complete accident. I needed a name, and for some strange reason that was the first reason that was the first one that popped into my head. LOL right? Any other Halloween or classic or not so classic horror movie fans? As SPN fans I would think that some of you are. Anyway, R&R or tell me something about something. Thanks, guys!