AUTHOR'S NOTE: And Now For Something Completely Different...this plot bunny came to me a while ago and just wouldn't leave me alone...usually if I write it down, it goes away, but this one just continued...and continued...

So, it's something that I would not normally think about writing about, and I have no idea where it came from...I'm just going with it, I hope you come along for the ride with me.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

PROLOGUE

Drip...

...dripdrip...drip...

...dripdrip...drip...

I listened to the sound of the bathtub faucet dripping behind me as I sat perched on the edge of the tub and waited. I could hear the ticking sound of the timer as it counted down the minutes.

I clenched my hands together in my lap and tried to slow my breathing- I was nervous.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the green plastic timer let out a cheerful sounding "ding!"

I took a deep breath and stood up, stomach twisting with nerves, then stepped over to the edge of the sink.

I picked up the pink and white applicator and peered at the tiny oval window- two blue lines. I bit my lip nervously and picked up the instructions again, finding the part that explained, "How to read your test".

One line was negative, two lines was positive.

Two blue lines.

This was a cheap test from the Dollar Store, maybe I should buy another one from a pharmacy and take it just to be sure? But I knew in my gut that it was correct. I'd been feeling nauseous for over a week now, and my breasts were starting to get tender. I had gone back and counted out the last couple of months, figuring out when I got my period and when I had most likely been fertile. We had been careful, I don't know how it happened.

Two blue lines.

I had to let Dean Winchester know.

CHAPTER 1

I folded up the instructions to a tiny square and stuffed them into my jeans pocket, and then wrapped the pregnancy test in a swath of toilet paper. I slid it up my sleeve, and then picked up the timer to take it back to the kitchen.

As I walked in, my half-sister Tiffy asked, "Why you got the timer?" Her sharp little eyes didn't miss anything.

"I was, um, using it for science homework," I lied, setting it on the counter, "Have you done all your homework?"

"I'm doin' it, gosh," she said with annoyance, shifting in her chair.

I pulled some paper towels off of the roll and stood at the sink, furtively sneaking the test out of my sleeve and wrapping it in the towels. How was I going to get it into the trash can?

The twins came into the kitchen just then, arguing.

"Donatello is so the best!" Troy said with confidence.

"No he isn't, Michaelangelo is the best!" Tina's voice was loud.

"Are you guys arguin' about them Ninjar Turtles again?" Tiffy rolled her eyes.

Troy pulled a box of crackers off of the shelf and walked over to the table.

"Hey, lemme have some!" Tina exclaimed, following him.

Tiffy clambered off of her chair and hurried over. "I want some too!"

While they were busy dividing the crackers, I went over to the trash can and shoved the wad of paper towels deep down into the trash, underneath this morning's used coffee grounds, egg shells, and napkins.

I walked over to the sink and washed my hands. "Not too many, guys, save room for dinner," I told them.

"Yeah, yeah," Troy rolled his eyes.

I pulled a pan out of the cabinet and set it on the stove.

"What we havin' ?" Tiffy asked.

"Pasta with meat sauce," I told her.

"Again?" she complained.

"I'm using sausage meat this time instead of ground beef, it'll be different."

"Prob'ly yucky," she wrinkled her nose.

"Try it, you might like it. It won't taste that different."

She huffed at me and sat down on her chair again, shoving a cracker into her mouth.

As I filled a pot with water for the pasta, and turned the burner on under the frying pan, I started to think. What was I going to do? If I really was pregnant...what were my options? I wasn't even old enough to get my driver's license. What would Dean say? What would everyone at school think? Oh my God, what would my parents say?

I started to feel panic rising, more anxiety twisting in the pit of my stomach, and I fought the tears that started to gather in my eyes. I took slow, deep breaths, grateful for the distraction of cooking, watching the meat in the pan slowly turn from pink to brown as I turned it, keeping an eye on the steam that rose from the pot as the water began to bubble.

I set the table by rote, walking around the table putting a plate and silverware at each place. It was the twin's job, but they never did it without a fight, and I didn't have the energy to deal with them right now. Tiffy picked up her notebook and Math book and shoved them into her backpack, and carried it into the living room.

I was grateful for the distraction that my half-siblings provided for once. The twins bickered, as usual, and Tiffy tried to join in, as usual. I could barely eat anything, and mostly just pushed the noodles around on my plate. None of them noticed my silence.

My step-father, Trent, came home halfway through dinner, smelling like sweat and machine oil. He was still wearing his coveralls from the factory.

"There enough left for me?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"Daddy!" Tiffy hopped off the of chair and ran over to him with her arms out. She's still young enough that to her, parents are everything.

He put his hands up, "Don't hug me, sugar, I'm all a mess. Let me go shower."

"Okaaay," she said with disappointment, her shoulders drooping.

He chuckled, and leaned down to kiss the top of her head.

By the time he came back into the kitchen, the kids had finished eating and left the table. I was at the stove washing out the pots and pans I'd used for cooking. I felt calmer now, but I wasn't sure why.

He sat down at his place and began to serve himself.

"We got salt?" he asked.

I took the salt and pepper shakers off of the the microwave and carried them over to the table, placing them in front of him.

He glanced at me. "How's, uh, school?"

"Fine," I said, "I've got a big test on Friday in English."

He and Mom hated it when we kids gave them one word answers about school, so we had to tell them things that were happening. My mom had read an article about 'How To Engage With Your Kids' and apparently it said to ask for details about school, and to not accept simple answers.

He grunted and started to eat.

I finished loading all the dishes in the dishwasher, and then started to get food out to pack lunches for tomorrow.

I walked over to the doorway and called, "Guys! I need your lunchboxes!"

"Jesus Christ, do you have to yell?" Trent growled, "We've talked about that more than once."

"S-sorry, it's just that they're supposed to bring their lunchboxes into the kitchen and they never do."

In a couple of minutes, Tiffy and Tina came into the kitchen and placed their lunchboxes on the table. Tiffy walked over and climbed onto her dad's lap.

"Thanks," I said to them, "Hey, want to help me?"

Tina shot me a look as she left. "No."

The front door opened, and Mom came into the kitchen. "Whew, finally home. Traffic was awful today."

She walked over and kissed Trent and Tiffy, then slumped into her chair.

"How was school?" she asked me.

"Fine, I have a test Friday that I need to study for," I reported.

She served herself some food and started to eat. "This isn't ground beef."

"No, it's sausage, I thought it might be nice to try something different."

"I thought it tasted different...sausage?"

"Yeah, ground pork sausage."

Trent glared at me. "Did you ask? Did you check and see if it was okay that you bought that? That's more expensive than ground beef, and we probably can't afford it!"

"I checked, I compared the prices, and it was on sale. It was only a couple more pennies than the same amount of ground beef," I explained.

He slammed his fist down on the table. "God-dammit, I've talked to you about this before! You do not just go spending our money willy- nilly! We can't afford to go buying every expensive thing just because you want something different!"

"Geez, it's just some ground pork, it's not like I went out and bought lobster!" I snapped.

"Don't you talk to me that way!"

"You're grounded. Until next weekend," Mom's voice was hard.

"Mom...c'mon, I have a babysitting job on Friday and I might go out Saturday..."

"Babysitting? Did you ask?" Mom frowned.

"Yes, I did, I checked with you before! Please, I really need the money!"

"What d'you need money for?" Trent narrowed his eyes.

"Who are you supposed to sit for?"

"The Hendersons."

"Well you'll just have to call them and tell them you're grounded. And I need you to watch the kids this weekend anyway," Mom said dismissively.

"Aw Mom, that's not fair!"

"Well, life isn't fair. What were you going to do anyway, go see a movie with some boy and then get felt up in his car after?"

"Trent!" I blushed. He always had to say stuff like that to me, and it was embarrassing.

I had hoped that Dean would see me on Saturday, we had talked a couple of weeks ago, but he dated more than one girl at a time, and was busy- and he often went away with his father on the weekends. They hunted a lot, he'd told me.

Mom stared at me. "Who were you supposed to go out with? That Winchester boy? I don't like him...he seems arrogant."

"You aren't going out with anyone, period," Trent said with finality.

"Trent!" I protested.

"You need to be at home taking care of your family, not out hangin' all over boys!"

"I do take care of my family! I do more with-with feeding the kids and helping them with homework and—and all than you do! "

As I was speaking, Trent shoved Tiffy off of his lap and came around the table, getting right up in my face. "What'd you say?" he said in a hard voice, "How dare you. Your mother and I work hard to make sure that there's enough money to feed and clothe all of you and to pay our bills...the least you could do is be a little damn grateful!" he grabbed my arm and gave me a shake.

"I am grateful, I just think I-I deserve some time to be a regular teenager!"

"What you deserve is to get your ass beat for your damn attitude!" he jerked my arm.

I tried to pull away from him. "Let me go!"

He did let go, only to backhand me in the mouth. I stumbled backwards, tears coming to my eyes.

"Get the hell out of here before I do more," he growled, "Stay outta my sight for the rest of the evening."

I turned and ran to my room.