After Some Time

I HAD THIS CHAPTER WRITTEN BUT THEN I REALIZED THAT IT DIDN'T FIT WITH THE TIMELINE AND URGGHHHHGHGHHGHGHGG!11!1!11!1!1!111! Plus, it had Gabriel in it! Maybe I'll add it in later…

Oh my CHUCK. I just realized that I need to fix the timeline on this ENTIRE fanfic. I'll do that before starting on the next in this series.

I just picked up my school scheduleeeeee, yayayay

I'm watching Heathers

Honestly? She didn't know what she was doing. Most of the next couple months or so were spent finding cases and anonymously calling them in. She had gotten her hands on Bobby Singer's number, and that was usually who she told about them. It was pretty cool to hear the grumpy old hunter's voice in real life. Okay, so maybe it was only over the phone, but who cared? She didn't actually go on any hunts herself, though.

She was constantly on the move, never staying in one place for too long. She tended to avoid Kansas, seeing as that was were the bunker was. She tried not to think about Sam and Dean, and it worked- at least for a couple of months. She often dreamed of them- although most 'dreams' were actually nightmares at this point. She ignored all of the

Then, of course, were the powers.

Lucille stuck her hands in her pockets, pointedly ignoring the man in the gas station store beside her. Pulling about five bars of chocolate bars off the shelf in front of her, she turned and walked up to the front. The man, probably in his fifties, lingered by the candy, watching her move. She quickly paid and got out of the store as fast as she could.

The door chimed as she left, then chimed a second time as someone else, presumably the man, followed.

"Hey girl," he said, trailing after her as she walked to the car. Her pace quickened, but he matched it. "You know, you shouldn't eat all that candy, it might mess up that pretty little body of yours."

Alright, that was it. She whipped around, the angel blade slipping into her hands defensively. Her eyes glowed golden for the second time, the first being when Larry yelled at his son. The man was thrown back by an invisible force, landing flat on his back several yards away. He looked up at her, then quickly began scrambling backwards.

Lucille stumbled back in shock, looking at her reflection in the windows of the store. Her eyes widened and she blinked several times, trying to will the glow away. She ran to her car, not sparing a second glance for the man she had quite possibly injured.

The realization that she could do something like that, of course, led to some rather interesting experiments. For example, the time when she had literally caused a light bulb to explode due to her concentrating so hard on trying to move a pencil.

"Huh." She was bored. Really bored. She had been investigating a case to see if it was something she could call in, but she currently had some free time.

So, naturally, she decided to see if she actually had powers. And, if she did, she wanted to know if there was any chance that she could control them.

Looking around for something she could test her multitude of theories on, her eyes came to rest on the yellow #2 pencil that she had been jotting some notes down with. She narrowed her eyes and gazed almost suspiciously at it before hesitantly raising her hand towards it. She spent almost a full minute staring at it, not blinking at all.

She jumped as the light bulb in the small lamp beside the motel bed shattered, small pieces of glass flying across the room. Her hands flew up to protect her face from the sharp fragments, several pieces scratching across the bare skin of her arms in the process.

She hissed in pain as they cut into her skin, small droplets of blood dripping down her arm.

"Fuck!" she cursed, looking at the wounds. To her extreme surprise, they began closing up almost immediately. She hastily pulled the splinters of glass out before they finished healing, not wanting the clear material stuck in her arms forever.

Given this newfound healing ability, she decided to get hurt in every single way she could think of, short of death. Yeah, I know, she's not exactly the brightest.

One thing she discovered was that it took longer to heal depending on the severity of the injury. For example, a paper cut could heal within seconds, while a broken bone took at least a few days. She had considered trying to jump off of a roof at one point, but ultimately decided against it.

Now, she could make her eyes glow at will. Of course, they still lit up whenever she got too emotional, but now it was a lot easier to control. She still wasn't able to make things move, but she was getting there. Probably. Maybe she could track down some sort of friendly monster or angel that had powers like that. What about Gabriel? No, that was a stupid idea.

Lucille yawned and blearily opened her eyes, looking at her phone. Her tiredness, however, did not last long, as her eyes soon found the date. It was July 4th! Sure, it was a national holiday, and that was cool and all, but that wasn't why it was so important to her. No, it was because she was officially fifteen! Well, she wasn't exactly sure when her birthday was in this timeline, given all of the time jumping.

She was staying in her car for the time being, not having had enough time to find a good motel before sleep overtook her. It was sort of disappointing, spending her birthday morning in a '57 Chevy.

She sat up and bunched up the small blanket laying across her lap, tossing it beside her. Just to mess around a bit, she dove over the front seat and landed with her feet in the air and her head hanging upside down, almost touching the floorboard. Her hair, longer than it had been when she left, fell out of its loose ponytail and pooled on the bottom of the car. She briefly stretched before flipping back up and sliding into the driver's seat.

Lucille slipped the key out of her pocket and into the ignition- she never left it in overnight- and started the car. She was currently just south of Chicago, investigating a series of disappearances. It didn't seem like much, but she was eager for a new case. It could just be some human kidnapper, and if so she could easily just leave it to the police, but it could just as easily be a monster.

She quickly found a small diner, which was pretty rare for this area, and began researching. She had bought a computer almost as soon as she left so that she could do research easier. It proved to be quite useful, seeing how often she had to hack into police databases. She couldn't exactly walk into the station and say she was FBI at her age, so she decided to put the computer skills Sam had taught her to good use.

She smiled at the brunette waitress as she approached the table, closing her computer.

"Hello," the waitress said brightly. "Are you ready to order or would you like a few more minutes?" Lucille glanced at the menu briefly, quickly deciding what to get.

"I'll have the full stack of chocolate chip pancakes, with, uh… Would it be possible to add whipped cream and strawberries? And a side of bacon?" she asked hopefully. The waitress nodded and took the menu from her.

"Of course! That'll be right out. Anything to drink?"

"Hot chocolate, please." The waitress looked at her with amusement sparkling in her eyes.

"Something special happening today? Y'know, other than the Fourth of July?" she asked laughingly. Lucille nodded proudly.

"Today's my birthday," she exclaimed boastfully, tucking her hair behind her ear. The waitress smiled and tipped her head towards Lucille.

"Well then, happy birthday," she said before walking away with the menu. Lucille opened the computer back up, trying to find any useful information. It seemed like none of the missing persons were connected, so the police was a bust. As soon as she was away from the prying eyes of the public, she would check her 2018 phone for anything on Chicago area cases- she faintly remembered something about werewolves and shifters, but that had been in season nine or something. She was still in the time period of season one. To be honest, it had been ages since she had even looked at her old phone.

"Thank you," she said as the waitress brought out the food, looking down at the tall stack of pancakes in front of her. She grinned as she noticed a small green candle burning in the center. "Thank you," she repeated.

"No problem," the short waitress responded, walking back to the kitchens. Lucille hurriedly ate, tuning out the excessive chatter of the other customers.

She paid quickly and rushed out the door, almost tripping on the way out. She reached into her bag in the passenger seat as she slid into the Chevy, digging to the bottom and finding her phone without looking. Glancing outside the windows, she made sure that nobody could see into the car before unlocking it. She pulled up a new tab and searched, 'Supernatural Chicago'.

She frowned as all that showed up were old conventions. She added the word 'episode' to the search and tried again, hoping for better results. There it is.

Bloodlines. Season nine, episode twenty. If she remembered correctly, they were actually going to make it into a spin-off series, with that episode being the pilot. She clicked on the link to the wiki and scanned over it, to refresh her memory. She easily absorbed the information, unlike everything she ever learned in school.

"Okay… maybe I won't call this in," she muttered to herself, reading about the five monster families running Chicago. Apparently they had a minimal amount of casualties, and there probably weren't enough hunters in the world to clear all of the monsters.

Lucille started the Chevy and pulled out of the diner parking lot, stuffing the phone back in her bag and pulling a small journal out. In it was every case she had ever researched or investigated. She had started it about three months into staying with the Winchesters. She had been close to ripping out the pages from back then after she left, but eventually decided against it.

Flipping to the middle of the book, she put a checkmark next to entry that read 'Chicago, Illinois: Disappearances'. Underneath the heading was a list of all information that she had gathered. It wasn't much, but this had been the closest case, geographically, to the last one she had looked into. She flipped to the page before that, scanning over it.

It was a possible case in a place called Garfield County, Utah. She couldn't help but snicker at the name- Garfield. She was going to lose it if she saw an orange cat there.

Garfield County was about a day away from Chicago- that is to say, twenty four hours, with no stops in between. So, factoring in time for food and bathroom breaks, plus sleeping, she could probably get there in three, four days, tops.

She absentmindedly reached over to the glovebox as she drove, blindly groping for a lollipop. She didn't even look at it as she unwrapped it and popped it between her lips. Humming, Lucille also pulled out a wrinkled map and unfolded it.

She stopped at a motel outside a small town that night, having just passed into the state of Nebraska. She checked into room three just as the sun went down. Quickly changing into warmer clothes, she left the moteland began the short walk into the town.

It had been awhile since she had participated in any kind of holiday. She had helped hide Easter eggs for some kids party in Montana back in April, but that was it. There weren't really any large holidays that she could celebrate here, anyway. Father's Day and Mother's Day were out of the question- she may or may not have spent those days thinking about her past life. She had sent Sam a postcard on his birthday, at least. It wasn't much- just a picture of the Seattle Great Wheel and 'Happy birthday, Sam. Sorry I couldn't be there." written on the back, her name signed underneath.

Lucille stuck her hands into her jacket pockets as she found a small gathering of people in the middle of town, lingering towards the edge. In the center of the crowd was an array of fireworks, and it looked like they were about to fire the first one. Her eyes widened happily and a grin split across her face as it whistled through the air and exploding with a loud bang, lilac shimmering in the dark sky. More of different colors followed in its wake, lighting up the air around each one.

Lucille sat on a wooden bench off to the side, smiling sadly at the scene laid out in front of her. Small children chased after each other with bright sparklers gripped tightly in their hands, shrieking with unadulterated glee. She remembered doing the exact same thing back home with her older brothers.

"Logan! Landon! Hurry up! Mommy said you have to come play with me!" Lucille called out impatiently from the front porch of their house in California, a slight lisp to her words. She unconsciously ran her tongue through the small gap where her top front tooth had been just a couple weeks before. The short seven year old fidgeted with the large beads around her neck as she waited for her brothers.

"Ugh, fine," her eleven year old brother, Landon, said, hopping down the stairs. For some reason he had always hated celebrating Independence Day- he claimed it was because it was Lucille's birthday, but she refused to believe that. "Logan'll be down in a minute."

"Here," she said, shoving a sparkler into the brunet's hands. She gave the oldest of the three, Logan, one as he left the house before leading them down to the beach, where their parents were waiting. She giggled excitedly as her mom lit each of the sparklers, eagerly taking hers back.

Swishing the sparkler in the air, she grinned. She held it out from her body and spun in a tight circle. She shrieked as she fell over from dizziness, the world spinning around her. She pouted as she sat up, picking up the discarded sparkler. The light at the tip of the stick had gone out, having fallen in the wet sand next to the ocean.

Logan immediately rushed to her side, crouching down next to her. He pressed his own sparkler into her hands and smiled gently. She smiled back shakily as he brushed her long hair out of her face, letting him help her to her feet. Rubbing her teary eyes, the young girl thanked her brother before proceeding to chase him around the long stretch of sand.

Lucille yawned as the two remaining sparklers- hers and Landon's- burned out, sitting down cross-legged on the beach. She pulled Logan down next to her, climbing into the fourteen year old's lap. Landon and their parents soon joined them, and they spent the rest of the evening watching the fireworks.

Two days later, she pulled up behind a crime scene in Garfield County, Nebraska. She quickly checked for police cars out front, and, not finding any, picked the lock on the back door. She ducked inside and grimaced at the grotesque scene. Blood was spattered around the living room, small chunks of something mixed in. She forced down the bile rising in her throat and checked her notes.

This was the fourth case of murder in the last two weeks. Each time, it was a woman who suddenly went crazy, killing her husband or boyfriend with her own hands. No weapon, all nails. None of the women seemed to have any recollection of what happened after the fact. Lucille suspected it was a simple salt-and-burn case, but she wanted to cover all her bases. That meant checking out the crime scene for anything suspicious, which was what she was doing right now.

She checked every single place she could think of that could possibly hold a hex bag. In cabinets, under the mattress, in jacket pockets- she even looked in the dishwasher. That ruled out witches. She jumped as she heard the front door unlocking.

Looking around frantically, she found that there wasn't enough time for her to get out of the house before whoever was unlocking the door came in. She darted into the back bedroom and quietly shut the door behind her, locking it. She heard faint talking on the other side of the door and began panicking. It sounded like the police. Why did her life have to be so cliche? Kid breaks into place they're not supposed to be, police come in, kid hides in some really obvious place- it was like the beginning of a really bad movie.

She flung open the window above the bed and prepared to climb out as the voices came closer. Her hand brushed against a small pile of yellow powder on the window sill. She frowned and brought her hand closer, sniffing the substance. She wrinkled her nose.

"C'mon," she complained quietly. "Demons? Really?" She grunted softly as she landed flat on her back outside the window. She wasn't quite sure how exactly she had managed to get in that position. Her eyes widened as the conversation inside froze, footsteps coming closer to the window. She rolled as close to the wall as she could, praying that they didn't look down.

She released the breath she didn't know she had been holding as the talking resumed. The people were walking away, from what she could tell. Lucille stood up quietly and walked back to her car, which was parked on the street next to the alleyway she had landed in.

Checking into a dirty motel, she quickly dialed Bobby Singer's number and waited for him to pick up.

"Singer's Salvage Yard," said the gruff voice on the other end. Lucille grinned.

"Hey, Singer. I got a case you can give to someone," she said playfully. She could practically hear him roll his eyes.

"You again," he muttered. "Alright, whad'ya got?" He probably didn't think very highly of her(she could be rather obnoxious), and he probably thought that she was a little young to be a hunter(he made her tell him her age the first time she called- she still refused to tell him her name in case of contact with the Winchesters), but all her information always checked out, so he tolerated her. That was something that Lucille was happy about, because she didn't think she could stand it if the famous Bobby Singer didn't like her.

"Garfield County, Utah. Demonic possession, wife seems to go crazy and murders her husband," she summarized.

"Garfield? Like the-" Lucille snickered, cutting him off.

"Yeah, like the cat. So, uh, get one of your hunters down here before anyone else is brutally murdered. I checked out one of the crime scenes, seemed pretty nasty."

Bobby's tone immediately grew sharper. "What do you think you're doing, girl? Goin' out somewhere ya ain't supposed to be? Someone could'a seen ya!" She grinned sheepishly despite the fact that he couldn't see her.

"Uh… yeah. Okay. I'll keep that in mind. Tell whoever is on the case that all the info will be…" She peered out the window of the motel room. "In the planter in front of room 18 of the Redmarch Motel." It was about five rooms down from hers, just in case she couldn't get out of the county before they showed up. She didn't want anyone to see her, just in case Sam and Dean had put out a hunter APB on her and it was still up.

"And you can't give it to them yourself why?" Bobby asked. Lucille rolled her eyes at his ignorance.

"I told you before, old man. I used to run with a couple of hunters before they ditched me. I've been on my own since," she lied, trying not to think about the Winchesters. She longed to see them again, but she was afraid of what their reactions would be to seeing her after so long.

"Bye, Singer," she said loudly over whatever he was saying. "I'll call if I find another case!" She sighed and hung up, gathering all of the information for the hunt.

She had just stepped out the door, case files in hand, when two strong arms wrapped around her from behind. One of the hands reached to cover her mouth, which had opened in a (now muffled) scream, while the other pinned her flailing arms to her sides. Lucille twisted around in the man's grip, trying to free herself from him. The papers scattered around the motel parking lot, long forgotten.

Her left foot flew up behind her, landing a blow on the man's crotch. That moved only managed to piss him off further, although he did seem to flinch. As a last resort, Lucille's tongue darted out and licked the man's hand. He drew the hand back and shook it off in disgust, before quickly covering her mouth again as a short burst of sound escaped her.

The last thing that Lucille thought as something hard hit her over the head, effectively knocking her out, was, Well, shit.