Author's note: I'm sorry for the delay. I hit a writer's block. If any of you want to contribute ideas to any of my stories, fucking go for it because I need help. Also, I am thinking about adding a lemony lemon to this story. If I am going to write one, it will be my first time. I have very little experience to go on and comments on said lemon would be appreciated. If it was good or didn't sound quite right, let me know. And let me know if you want some lemony goodness.

Disclaimer: I dream of nothing else.

Broken Home

(Bella pov)

I woke up like I do every morning: foul-tempered and caffeine-crazed. It didn't take long for Sam, John, and Dean Winchester to figure out I was not, nor ever will be, a morning person. Sam, being the more sensitive brother took one look at me and avoided me from the moment I got up until I had caffeine in my system. Dean, however, learned the hard way that I can get quite nasty when provoked. Especially when I just crawled out of bed. Since John wasn't around that much, almost always on a hunting trip, he never experienced 'morning Bella'. Let's not even get into to waking me up before the cursed alarm clock. I could make that exorcist bitch look like a stepford wife. The number one Winchester rule switched from 'always be prepared' to 'if you wake up Bella, you're on your own.'

It's best if you didn't bring up the alarm clock issue either.

I was having a very nice dream starring that really hot Jasper guy and whipped cream. I was just getting down to business when a loud, obnoxious sound pulled me into reality. As I do every morning, I grabbed the still blaring alarm clock, stormed over to a window, pried it open, and chucked the damn thing into the cool, wet air. I watched as it soared through the air and landed on an unsuspecting morning jogger. I grinned when I heard him wail about his face and closed the window. Dumb bastard shouldn't be running in the rain. It's actually more of a drizzle, but I stand by my statement. Maybe that alarm clock did something useful and knocked some sense into dumb fuck down there.

I slithered back under the blankets and closed my eyes. I wanted to go back to my dream and fuck the living Hell out of mister tall-dark-and-sexy. Just as I was drifting off again, a knock jerked me into a state of awareness. I growled at the door, but the knocking continued. I rolled out of bed and stomped over to the entry and ripped it open. My threats died in my throat when I saw the Blood Fairy who had been moaning as I licked his chest clean of fluffy dairy product not five minutes ago. I decided to keep the dream to myself and slapped on smile.

"Hi there! It's good to see you again. If I remember correctly your name is Jasper, right?"

He smirked back at me and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"Well, it is good to see you again!" I grinned, "Never thought I'd see you again!"

His eyes roamed my body before moving back to my face, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "It's nice to see you, too. Though I imagined our reunion would have involved more clothing on your part." I looked down and realized that slept naked. I slammed the door shut and dashed to my bag. I threw on a baggy shirt and opened the door. I decided to keep what dignity I had left and gestured for him to come inside. His eyes still gleaming, he glided into the room and gracefully sat himself on the sofa. I closed the door and laid myself on the couch across from him. I made sure to keep my legs closed.

I may have the hots for him, but that doesn't I'm going to flaunt my goodies.

"So…" I started calmly, "How have you been?"

He shrugged, "I can't complain. I was shocked to see you at the cemetery last week. I thought for sure you would have left immediately afterwards, but then I saw you at the diner. So I said 'fuck it' and came to see you. What exactly are you doing here?"

I hesitated for only a moment. "Taking a vacation. I think after the last few cases I've had, I deserve a little me time."

"You know, my family would love to see you again. How do you feel about coming with me to meet the rest of the Cullens?"

A shiver of unease ran down my spine. I am invited to the lair of a coven of blood-sucking fairies with no knowledge of how to kill or incapacitate one. If I am going to do this, I will need back up. Only two people came to mind. "I would love to, Jasper. Do you want me to call Sam and Dean? I know they would like to see you again."

"Emmett has talked but nothing but those two since we parted." He grabbed a complimentary notepad and scribbled a set of numbers on the paper before handing it to me. "That's my phone number. When those boys are in town, call me and we'll meet up."

"Will do, Jasper."

He stood up suddenly and made his way to the door. "I'm sorry to cut this short, but it seems Carlisle has called a family meeting. Until we meet again, Bella." He opened the door and slipped into the hallway. Before the door shut behind him, he leaned back. "Nice ink by the way." With that, he vanished. It took me a few seconds to realize what he meant. I looked down at my torso and blushed a vivid shade of red. I have gained a few tattoos over the years and wore them proudly. I had the five pointed star inside a sun, the same as my 'brothers', on my right shoulder. That was my first tattoo. Then I got the phases of the moon wrapped around my waist, The full moon rested on the small of my back with the new moon represented my by my navel. I had gotten many compliments on that one. I got it after I killed my first werewolf without assistance.

I had my zodiac sign on my left ankle, a black phoenix unfurling its wings beneath my breasts, a set of bleeding angel wings on my back, and a pentagram on the back of my neck. It was colored to represent the five elements the pentagram represents; white for spirit, blue for water, red for fire, green for earth, and yellow for air. The last one I got was influenced by lots of alcohol. I had just saved this tattoo artist from a vengeful spirit and he decided to buy me a drink. One turned into one too many and I may or may not have asked him to give me a new tat. I don't know what in the hell I was thinking when I said I wanted heaven's sin written on the inside of my left thigh. The ink was beautiful, the font was sexy and elegant, but definitely screams "I was drunk!" He didn't charge me, saying something along the lines of saving his ass and that my drunken performance was payment enough. He told me that he had never laughed so hard in his life, so I assumed sex was not involved. Hopefully.

I groaned in embarrassment. I gave Jasper a free peep show. A male I would love nothing more than to ram me against the wall and have his dirty way with me, has seen everything I have to offer. The worst part was that he didn't show a hint of interest. Amusement, most definately. Lust, not even a little. Damn it all! Every time I see a good-looking guy, I turn into a total idiot!

I pouted for few more minutes before picking up my cell phone and dialing a familiar number. It rang twice before a masculine voice greeted me. "Hey Sammy! Guess who was just in my room this morning?"

I hesitated at the door. The once white run-down house used to be my home. An old for sale by owner sign sat by the mailbox, both partially hidden by overgrown vegetation. Part of me wanted to turn around go back to the hotel. The other half was already inside and searching through the rooms. I took a deep breath and opened the door. I slid the lock picks inside my jacket and stepped inside. I shut the door quietly, not wanting to disturb the silence. Memory after memory bombarded my mind, leading me through the rooms. The kitchen was once a bright yellow. Renee loved the sun and tried to bring it inside with the horrendous color. In the living room sat a fireplace that hadn't been lit since Renee burned herself with the embers of a dying fire. She told Charlie that I could waltz, that's right: waltz, right up to it and burn myself alive. That woman was more likely to set herself on fire with a match than I could with a fireplace.

There is the unused dining room. The only time it was used were for big holiday meals, and that was a rarity. With Renee's sickening recipes and Charlie's ability to cook eggs and bacon (only eggs and bacon), we often ate with the Blacks. Billy Black lived on the Quileute Reservation with his wife, two daughters, and son. Well, they did when I was alive. For all I know, the Blacks could be dead. I guess I could go say hi. Then again, they might not remember me. Better to just leave them alone then dredge up painful memories.

The stairs creaked ominously as I climbed to the second floor. I passed the linen closet and the bathroom without stopping. I reached my room, breathed deeply, and stepped inside. The walls were a dark shade of purple. I could see the little drops of paint on the wooden floor. I begged Charlie to let me help paint my own room and he couldn't resist my charm. For a four year old, I did a pretty good job. That was until I got paint on my dad's old police academy shirt. He got me back by rubbing paint on my cheek. We had a miniature paint war that resulted in a paint-splattered floor. Charlie said he'd buy a rug so Renee wouldn't see the mess. He never got around to it, but Renee never even noticed.

The furniture was dusty. There was a bookshelf, an old rocking chair, a desk with a little chair tucked under it, and a small bed. The old purple sheets were untucked and messy, the same way I left them all those years ago. I closed my eyes and bit the tears back. I swallowed the lump in my throat before closing the door. Continuing down the hall, I turned left into the master bedroom. The walls were a soft green, like the undersides of tree leaves when a storm is brewing. Two large dressers sat against the wall, across from a queen bed. The pillows were saggy and the comforter was rumpled. Like my room, everything was coated in dust. I shut the door quickly and took deep breaths. Tears of sorrow threatened to spill over, but I held them back. I hate crying. It's pointless and it doesn't solve anything. Crying wastes time and makes you vulnerable to attack.

The sound of an opening door drew my attention downstairs. Quiet footsteps vibrated through the house, warning me that I wasn't alone. I grabbed my gun and crept down the stairs, moving ever so carefully so I wouldn't alert the intruders of my presence. Before I could touch the ground floor, a figure leaped in front of me. I brought my gun up to threaten the asshole who would dare sneak into my old home. I looked at the trespasser and heaved a sigh of relief. "Heya Sammy. Good to see you. Dean! Where are you?" Dean popped out of the dining room. "Geez, give me a fucking warning next time!" I punctuated my statement by smacking Dean in the arm.

He flinched under my fist. "Hey! Why the hell did you hit me?"

"Because you are the oldest." I smirked, "You should know better."

Sam intervened before it turned into a shouting match. "We were in Oregon when you called and drove over as fast as we could. We saw your motorcycle outfront and thought that maybe you needed help."

"What were you doing in Oregon?"

"Following up on a lead. It sounds like a werewolf. A body shredded open and missing his heart. The full moon has passed so it will be another month before it shows up again."

I nodded silently. "That sucks. Since I stopped you guys from finishing the job, I'll come with you to help finish it after we're done here."

"What are we doing here?" Dean asked.

I looked between the brothers. "Sam didn't tell you?"

"He told me that you ran into one of those fairies up here and they wanted to see us again." Dean looked rather excited to see Emmett again. Both of them had a sick sense of humor and a love for horror films. "So is this where they live?"

"No. No… um.…. I...I used to live here."

The Winchester's looked surprised and a little uncomfortable at my confession. Sam looked around the house. "I thought you lived in Phoenix?"

"Renee moved us there after my father was shot on duty. Before my father died, this was my home." I stroked the handrail. "It feels weird being here. Like I don't belong."

"Yeah," Dean sighed, "We know the feeling."

I shook off the memories before facing my adopted brothers. "Come on boys! The Cullens are waiting for us." I led them outside, worrying over seeing a certain blood fairy again.

And that's it for chapter 4! Kind of short, I know, but inspiration didn't last very long. It's been too long since I have posted a chapter and you all deserve it for patiently waiting. I have looked at the polls and taken out all but 3 choices: Jasper, Dean, or Sam. Jazz and Dean are tied, with Sammy trailing after them. Those are your choices. Cast your votes and argue over who would be a better match for Bella. Anyway, things are still tough for me, but I'm hanging in there. If you want something added into the next chapter, don't hesitate to PM me and I'll even dedicate the chapter to you. You'll have name up there! All underlined and shit! That's fun, right?

Once again, if you want lemony goodness in the next or later chapters, let me know.

-SPN :3