Alice's POV

I was glad to not hear anything more about Mark Anderson from Sam. He was probably itching to find out what'd happened when I left, but I didn't really care.

I'd been staying with Bobby for about a week while I tried to get to know my father. It wasn't easy. Every time we started to get somewhere, one of us would ask something that would make the other one clam up. And to make things worse, Sam told him about my nightmare and now he was tiptoeing around my time in foster care.

So far, I had learned that Dean was a mechanic (which I didn't believe), that he and Sam had grown up in Kansas (which I also didn't believe). They'd known combat. Maybe they weren't soldiers, but I was willing to bet my ass on that. Plus he stuttered when he lied, and he stuttered a lot.

I was spending a lot of time working on the Mustang, which was weird because I couldn't even drive. Dean would come out and make sure I was okay a lot, usually staying to help. He came out around noon today, right when it started to get hot.

"Need a hand?"

I slid out from under the hood and pulled off my tee, "Do I need one? No. Would I like one? Sure. You can help me get the roof back up."

Dean nodded, laying back in the front seat. After a few minutes of failed attempts, he asked me to hand him a sledgehammer. I turned my back to get it for him when I heard him inhale sharply.

"What?" I asked, handing him the tool.

"Your back," he croaked. I didn't know what he was talking about. There were a couple of scars, just from stupid accidents in the chop shop, and a tattoo down the left side. None of that was particularly shocking.

"What about my back?" I snapped, "I don't think I've mutated since my last shower, so as far as I know it's just a back."

He stared at me for a minute with misty eyes until I started to get uncomfortable and put my shirt back on. Then he went back to putting the roof back in place. He ran off as soon as it was done. God, he was such a child.

I worked for the rest of the day without taking off my t-shirt. By five, I was hot and sticky but I'd made a lot of progress on the car. I'd be done in another week or so. Bobby made beef stew for dinner, which was delicious, but the meal was awkward with Dean not meeting my eyes and nobody saying a word.

Bobby broke the silence to scold me for picking at my food again. I took a couple of real bites, but then I was back to poking it with the spoon. I just wasn't hungry. Sam gave me a sympathetic smile that I barely caught, but Dean ate quickly and left.

"What the hell is his problem?" I asked once he'd gone. Bobby shrugged and looked at Sam to answer.

"He's beating himself up over what he saw outside today," he finished like a question.

Seriously? That's what this was still about? I crossed my arms, "He saw two scars and a tattoo. They weren't from being abused, I just backed into a saw at the machine shop. It was stupid, but it wasn't even that bad. Just needed stitches."

Sam sighed, "Dean doesn't see it that way. From his perspective, his kid got hurt and he couldn't stop it. He'll get over it soon enough. How'd you get a tattoo at sixteen?" he was changing the subject. My tattoo probably wasn't the best choice of topics, but I'd take what I could get.

"There's a thing that you can do at a tattoo parlour. It's called lying. Of course, a little extra cash doesn't hurt," I answered.

That was only half true. I'd gotten two or three parts of it done at a parlour, but Tricia and I had done most of it ourselves. I remembered sitting in a dark room with bottles of ink and alcohol while Trish dipped a needle into my flesh over and over. It had taken over an hour every time we'd tattooed each other. No numbing, very little equipment, so we'd chosen the words with care.

I was done talking for the night. If they wanted to know anything else, they were going to have to Google it. I headed upstairs, ignoring Bobby's protests about me not having finished my food. Sam and Dean were getting on my nerves with all of their questions. It's not like they were trying to upset me with them, I knew that. I was overreacting.

I locked the spare room door and plopped down on the bed. Fuck him, I thought, If they can't get off his self-pitying high horse long enough to figure out that I'm right here and wanting to move forward, fuck him. I'll just go back to fucking Chicago. Pulling out my phone, I hit speed dial.

It rang twice, "Hello?"

"Hi Tricia," God, I missed her voice. I knew that it'd only been a week since I'd last spoken to her, but I still missed her.

"Alice! How are you? How are they treating you? Are you alright? What's going on?" she exclaimed, and I could picture her hopping out of a chair to scurry somewhere private.

"They aren't treating me badly, but they're pretty clueless when it comes to asking the right questions. It doesn't matter, I just wanted to hear your voice. How are you?"

"I'm doing okay. I'm a little worried about scraping enough together for this month's rent. But the high school's gonna let me in," she said nonchalantly. I knew how bad it must be for her.

Tricia didn't go to school unless there wasn't enough money. Affluent high school students that are under too much pressure and want to rebel. A lot of them used drugs to do just that. Weed and coke are the most popular in Chicago. At twenty-five bucks a gram, she brings in cash pretty quickly when she needs it. I would've sold too when money got too tight, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Especially since I didn't do drugs myself.

"Do you need anything? Selling in schools is pretty desperate."

"Yeah, well, you do what you gotta do, right?" Tricia was trying to be tough, but I knew her too well for it. I was about to say something when I heard a crash and a shout on the other line, "Shit! Listen, Alice, I gotta go. I'll call you later, okay?"

I heard her shout, "Come and get me, Bitch!" to someone, then the line went dead. It was probably some assholes after her wallet. That or the cops. Tricia was usually pretty good at getting away, but it'd be a lie if I said I wasn't worried. If something happened to her while I was sitting here in South Dakota, I'd lose my mind. But I knew that Trish was in fugitive-mode right now. Even if I did call, it wouldn't matter. Her phone was probably turned off. If it wasn't and she was hiding, the ringtone would get her killed.

Great, just great. My sister was in the middle of a foot chase, my uncle was- I didn't even know what he was doing, and my father was sulking for no reason. That left me. Sitting here. Alone. Have I mentioned my fear of being alone? Because it was really acting up right then. I could've taken care of it just by heading downstairs, but I was just too damn stubborn to do that. So I sat there. Alone.

Dean's POV

When Alice turned around to get the sledgehammer, it seemed like she didn't even remember that there were scars on her back. I'll admit, they didn't look like they were from a beating and they weren't what upset me. What did that was the long tattoo that stretched down her back just to the left of her spine. I'd seen tattoos like that before.

I had a friend when I was living at Sonny's Home for Boys who was in foster care. He had a list of all the families that had sent him away. It was written on a shoe, but he'd planned to have it tattooed on his arm once he was old enough to get out of the system.

Alice's list was long; there were at least twenty names, and some were dotted or starred. I didn't know what that meant, but it probably wasn't good. And I felt guilty. She was my daughter, and I had let her grow up feeling worthless. No, I didn't know I had a daughter, but that's no excuse. I should've found out. I should've kept in touch with her mother, or even just done something to remember her. I had probably never even learned her name. God, she must've had such a hard time. Teen moms always get the short end of- well, everything. Especially when the father isn't in the picture.

"When you hit bottom, the only place left to go is up," Alice's voice echoed in my head, and I couldn't help but grin. She really was something, and I didn't want to lose her. I had to start fixing things.

Hi guys! Dean's finally starting to actually step up, which means that there are going to be some Dad moments with him and Alice. So, if you have something that you would like to see, feel free to leave a review or shoot me a PM and I will write it in the coming chapters. Like always, don't forget to favourite, follow and review. Reviews make me happier than a baby elephant in a mud hole. :)