I just noticed that only half of the chapter was posted earlier today. So for those of you who have already read the beginning of this one today please read the rest so you don't get confused on the next chapter.

I just wanted to thank everyone for staying with me so far. I would like to say a special thanks to angelyenc for always reviewing my story, without your reviews I may not have continued this story.


Sam had been pacing the floor of the apartment for the better part of an hour, he was pretty sure that soon his path would be permanently etched into the floor boards. Still when he reached the far wall he turned around and crossed to the other side, crutching the photo in his hand. He tried to tell himself that it was impossible, that the photo had been doctored to confuse him, yet he knew that he didn't believe it for a second.

It made everything fall into place, Samantha's cocky attitude, the way she always had a retort ready to make fun of him. Most of all he couldn't forget her eyes, they were green, his green and they had the ability to lock the world out one moment or shine every emotion out of them like a beacon.

Sam groaned, whatever the truth was he had to find out and fast. He turned towards the front door as he heard footsteps in the hall. He reached to his waistband, placing his hand on his gun and waited.

The door handle turned and Samantha stepped into the room. There was something wrong her posture was not her normal shoulders back, head high, come on and take me if you can attitude. She entered with her head down as if she was trying to disappear into herself, but Sam did not have the time to question it right now.

"Don't move!" he called out clearly, as he pulled his gun out and levelled it on the figure in the doorway. She stopped and raised her head to look at him, the expression on her face made him think that she was ready to knock someone out. Squaring his shoulders he continued. "Who are you?"

There it was, the look that told Sam that she thought he was a moron. "Samantha Browning, do you want to write it down so you don't forget this time college boy?"

Sam moved without thinking, he pushed Samantha back into the closed door, gun pressed into her side, his left forearm pressed against her chest so she couldn't move. She looked mildly surprised but she schooled her expression well. "Someone should have given me the memo, Winchester men are prone to cases of PMS."

Sam ignored the dig; he unclenched his fist and pushed the photo into her line of view. "What is this?" Samantha's eyes grew wide for an instant then became soft. Without lifting her gaze she whispered. "Where did you get that?"

"From the pocket of your coat, now explain to me what it means."

She continued to stare at the photo for a couple of moment before she lifted her eyes to meet Sam's. "What do you want me to say Sam? Doesn't it tell you enough?"

Sam felt the force of her words crash into him, he backed away from her, shaking his head. "No, no, no, no, no, it can't be true."

Samantha did not move away from the door, she simply wrapped her arms around her as if she was trying to physically hold herself together.

"It is true, Sam. I'm Dean's daughter."

Sam froze and looked at the girl who suddenly seemed so young. "You're my niece too, I guess."

Samantha looked at him then, a small ghost of a smile coming to her lips. "That's usually how it works, or so I hear."

Sam washed a hand over his face in an attempt to clear his head. "Can we start at the beginning? I'm guessing that you're not from this time or Dean would have been….ten when he had you."

"Eleven actually I'm 22 years old." Sam sat down at a kitchen chair and motioned Samantha to sit on the near by coach. "What do you want to know Uncle Sammy?" She asked innocently.

Sam felt a shiver go up his spin at the name; it would certainly take some getting used to. "How did you get back here?"

"Cas brought me back."

"Castiel? Why would he do that?"

"Because I asked him to." She said as if it was the obvious answer.

Sam sighed, every moment with Samantha was convincing him more and more that she was Dean child. "Please just start from the beginning."

Samantha smiled briefly, then looked away. She stared at the photo still in Sam's hand. "At 11:32am on April 23rd, 2010 Ben Braeden ran into on coming traffic to catch a football. He was hit by a car and killed on the spot."

"You stopped that from happening." Sam supplied.

"Yeah. The accident almost killed Dean, the guilt and grief over took him. Lisa couldn't help this time because she was mourning too. The strain became too much and one day before dawn Dean left Cicero in the Impala." She paused for a moment, took a breath and looked at Sam. "That was when you lost him."

"Lost him, what do you mean?"

"Sam, you have been following Dean for almost a year now. You have a schedule planned out now, when Dean left before you got there, you have no idea where to start looking for him."

Sam paused, it hadn't occurred to him that he could have lost Dean, he had been sure of his tracking abilities to find his brother if he ever left. Yet here was a girl who was telling him with certainly that his abilities would fail. "So what happened? I'm assuming he found someone, since you're sitting here."

"After about a year, Dean got hurt on a routine hunt. Thrown down a flight of stairs by a ghost or something. He was taken to the emergency room, and that's where he met my mom, Susan Browning." Samantha's eyes shone with love as she thought about her parents.

"I guess they hit it off. Dean was all jokes and flirting, she was a nurse who didn't give him the time of day. Somehow it all worked out, after Dean was released from the hospital he stuck around. After about a year of puppy love, they got married and nine months down the road I was born. I was named Samantha Marie Winchester."

Sam stared at the young women in front of him as she watched him back, she face partly hidden in shadow, but her eyes still shining brightly. The dull ache in Sam's chest had grown and spread to fill his whole body, right now all he wanted was to see his brother, who it seems would never forget him.

"Dean named you after me?" Sam spoke quietly, part of him not truly wishing to know the answer. "Why would he do that?"

Samantha cocked her head to the side, a curious expression on her face. "My dad named me after the most important person in his life. He used to tell me about my wonderful uncle who was able to push down the devil and sacrificed himself for the world." Samantha looked away for a moment, as if Sam's image was too bright for direct contact. "Part of me always wondered if he named me Samantha, so that he would be able to keep part of you near."

With that she stood up and moved towards the bathroom. As she turned away from Sam, he caught a glimpse of her down turned face; the well of sadness that was there took his breath away. He moved forward, placing his hand on her arm in a show of support. She stopped walking, but kept her back to him, her shoulders were hunched and tight with emotion.

"Sam, I just need some time to myself." Her whisper pleaded with him to release her, but Sam was not able to let go yet.

"I still have question Samantha. Why were you trained as a hunter? What happened to Dean? Why did you get Cas to send you back in time?

"In my bag you will find a journal, all the answers you are looking for should be in there." Samantha pulled her arm out of Sam's grip and moved into her quiet sanctuary, the washroom.

Sam sat staring at the door for a couple of minute. When he had first found the picture, he had wondered if she was truly Dean's child. Now it seemed almost obvious, her mannerisms were so like Dean's. Sam shook his head to clear it, why hadn't he seen it before?

He rummaged through Samantha's duffle bag until he found the journal she had mentioned. Placing himself near to the weak light from the small table lamp, he looked at the item. It was Dad's journal, though he was sure that it had seen better years. Some of the pages were lose, threatening to fall out. He could see places were Dean must have tapped pages back into place. His brother must have seen it as a way to honour their father.

Sam flipped through familiar pages about past hunts, and information about many of the creatures they had encountered. He only stopped when he came upon a section with Dean's messy writing scrawled down the page. Sam took a deep breath to calm his nerves and silently asked his brother to give him the answers to his questions.