My life has never been normal. My dad was strict as a mofo and was always on the road. We constantly lived in motels and he was never around so it was basically me raising my little brother. So yeah, my life ain't exactly been a day at the beach. Not since my mother died almost 13 years ago in a house fire.
Except it wasn't just a house fire. The house fire wasn't caused by anything normal; it was something impossible to explain. My dad, John Winchester raised me and my brother Sammy to become Hunters. And not bear or deer hunters.
Nah, the type of hunting I'm talking about is...
Vampire-slaying, witch-killing, werewolf-murdering, and the oh-so often ghost-ganking type of hunting. And, you know, every blue moon we'll exorcise a demon or two.
I know, I know. You're thinking that I'm insane, right? Well, tough luck because every monster under the bed, every shadow that moves in the dark is as real as the barrel of my gun. So suck it up and stop crying and sleep with a gun under your pillow and salt at your door. Unless you want the sons of bitches to start coming after you next. Also, check for hex bags 'cause those can be a pain in the ass.
Anyways, back to the story.
I just realized this is probably the third or fourth time you guys have heard that sentence. My bad!
But seriously, though, let's get back to it.
Now, where was I?
A life full of tragedy, daddy abandonment issues, hunting monsters... Oh, right! And all this has happened to me because Dad is hunting the thing that killed Mom. Usually, Sam and I are out there with him, but right now he's taking down a rougaru in Huntsville, AL. We had just wrapped up a ghoul case in New York City when he got the call. So, he decided to handle it all on his lonesome and left Sammy and me here to go to school.
And what school is that, you ask? Why Hallowreign Freaking High School, of course. I already didn't like it that Dad was making Sammy and I stay behind to go to school-albeit we were staying with one of Dad's old military/hunter buddies. So when this dick, who I swear I've seen before, starts going off on me at the JEDI building, I'm sorry but he's just asking to get hit.
Alright, fun fact: the guy I got into a fight with is named Andrew. Again, he sounds familiar, but I just can't remember. Plus, he is a surprisingly good fighter. I'd be impressed if I didn't dislike him so much. When Quintus showed up and split us up, he seemed to know exactly who he was. After he sent Andrew away, he pulled me away down the empty hallway away from prying eyes. "What the hell were you doing?" he chided.
"I was kicking his ass, what do you think I was doing?" I scoffed arrogantly. Quintus quirked his eyebrow. "No, you were getting your arse kicked. And by my godson, no less." Before I could express my shock or even formulate a witty response to that, Quintus gently pressed his hand against my forehead and a soft green glow ebbed from the Jedi's palm onto my head. I hissed in pain and clenched my teeth to hold back a scream from coming out of my mouth, as the energy continued to flow throughout my body.
When he removed his hand, I slowly brought a hand up to touch my face, and the burning sensation of his power that I felt earlier had been replaced with a light tickle of energy. "Quin, what the hell was that?" I questioned. "A healing spell. You didn't think that there were only bad witches in the world, did you?" Quintus answered knowingly. "And yes, your father knows. Otherwise, do you think he'd let you and your brother live in a witch's den?"
"So, you're a mentor for wayward youth and a hunter and a witch? Your schedule is probably Hell," I japed. Luckily, Quintus has a sense of humor and cracked a small smile at my joke. "And yet somehow I still have time for my favorite people in the world. You, Sam, Andy, and his little sister Ahsoka," came his response. My jaw clenched at the mention of that douchebag. "Besides, Andy has been going through some tough times lately. I'm sure he didn't mean to start a fight," he added. "After what he did to me, you still take his side?" I snapped.
"Andy has been going through just as hard a time as you and your brother," Quintus defended.
"Bull!"
"No, it isn't. It's the truth."
I scoffed. "Alright, I'll bite. How has he gone through the same thing as me? And why does it feel like I've met him before?"
Quintus was about to answer, but he cut himself off. Weird.
"Ask him yourself," Qui-Gon said lowly. "You are both going to the same school this semester, you know. Maybe you'll learn something or--God forbid--make a friend." At this, I faltered in my rage. I could tell that he noticed, too. The rage that was flaring in my eyes had subsided and I unclenched my jaw. "Quin, you and I both know that you don't have friends in this life unless you want them to die," I sighed.
The hunter opened his mouth to reply then quickly closed it. Instead, he settled on saying, "You should head back to the house and fix you and Sammy something to eat. Thanks to this business with Andy, I'll be home late." "Yes, sir," I said simply.
I was in the kitchen while Sam sat on one of the stools on the island reading Lord of the Flies and I had just finished fixing Mac and cheese for dinner when Quin walked through the front door. "Hey, man," I yelled from the kitchen. "Hey, Quintus. How was work?" Sam asked looking up from his book.
"Hey, Sammy. My day was going well, but then your brother decided to be an idiot," Quin answered, walking into the kitchen while pointedly glaring at me. Once the words left Quin's mouth, Sam rolled his eyes and facepalmed, "What did you do now, Dean?" I raised my arms in defense and said, "Hey don't look at me." "Your brother started a fight," Quintus answered.
I shot a betrayed look. "Really?" Sam glared in annoyance.
"He threw the first punch!" I snapped defensively. "Knowing you, you probably said something to piss him off," Sam snorted. "Hey! Watch it, young man," Quintus said warningly. "What? He probably did," Sam argued. "Oh, I know he did, I checked the cameras," Quin replied. "However, I was referring to the phrase you used to convey that statement."
"Oh, c'mon, Qui. You're mad 'cause he said "pissed?" Really?" I snorted. "I say things worse than that every day and you don't stop me." Quintus looked at me in exasperation and sighed sharply. "I've long since given up on you watching your language, but I refuse to let you drag your brother down with you," he snarked. I placed a hand over my heart in mock offense. "You sayin' I'm a bad influence on Sammy?" "I think he's trying to say you're a bad everything," Sam cut in. "And for the last time, it's Sam!" I thwacked Sam on the back of his head half-heartedly. After letting out a startled yelp, Sam rubbed the back of his head as I went to make plates for everyone.
"Whatever. Let's eat, I'm starving," Quin changed the subject.
It was mostly quiet at dinner save for the occasional small talk of Quin and Sam. It was weird for me because it was like we were all normal people having dinner. "So tell me, how the hell was Dad able to afford the tuition for this Prep school?" I blurted out. "I mean, it ain't as if he got a money tree growing in the back seat of the Impala." "Actually, Quintus is the one who paid it," Sam chimed. "Huh," was all I could say. "Your father called today. He said he should be back by late January or early February," Quin announced.
I frowned. "Did he say why?"
"No."
Great! A month of hell with no explanation. It was going to be hard adjusting here for that long, and I would need to find something to keep myself busy until Dad came back.
Later that night, I was up at midnight looking through the internet. I was thinking about watching a movie but then just decided to look at a few of the missing person cases and found one in a moderately sized county up in Long Island. It was a fairly old case, well over a year old, that was never solved, but that's probably because most people gave up. And as you can see, I'm not most people. The photograph showed a teenage girl about my age with dark hair and brown eyes.
The poster read: MISSING- PADMÉ AMIDALA. LAST SEEN DECEMBER 12TH, 1992.