Hello! I'm so excited about this story and I really hope you enjoy it :) Xoxo


"What the hell is wrong with you?" John grabbed her by the back of her shirt and in their close proximity she could smell the alcohol on his breath

"Wrong with me?" Jessa scoffed, "I'm just doing what you taught me to do."

"I taught you to Hunt!" He roared, "Not be stupid and almost get yourself and your brother killed."

Jessa pulled herself free of his grip and proceeded to wrap a bandage around the wound on her upper arm, "I had it under control!"

"You did not! You are just a child, Jessa!"

"I'm almost eighteen." She sneered.

"Next time you will follow orders. Do you understand?"

Jessa glared at him but didn't answer.

"I said do you understand."

"We aren't your soldiers, John."

Jessa felt the hot sting on her face from where he slapped her. "You will show me some respect!"

Tears welled in her eyes as she stared at him defiantly. He had never hit her before and she couldn't believe he just had. She tasted copper in her mouth as she spat, "Earn it, John."

As she stalked from the room she heard him crack open another beer. She slammed the door to her own room when she entered, causing Sam and Dean to jump in surprise.

"J, what happened?" Dean asked her.

"Doesn't matter." She grabbed her duffel from under her bed and began stuffing it with the clothes that lay in various spots around the room.

"J?"

"I said it doesn't matter!" She yelled as she grabbed her knife and gun from under her pillow.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked his big sister.

"Away."

"You're going to run away? That it?" Dean asked accusingly.

"Do not give me that, Dean." She grabbed her smokes and the bottle of whiskey from the bathroom, as well as her toilet bag.

"Jessie, please don't go." She turned to face her younger brother. His face was sad and he was giving her his trademark puppy dog eyes.

She had never been able to resist that look so she turned away, "Stay out of Dad's room tonight. He's been drinking." With that she left the room and didn't look back.

Jessa recalled the night she ran away, almost a month ago. She missed her family terribly, but she didn't regret leaving. No, she liked being on her own. She picked her own hunts, made her own rules and better still, Dean wasn't giving her lectures on her smoking or drinking.


She flicked the butt of the cigarette she just finished and adjusted her bag on her shoulder. She just completed a job and was walking down a desolate stretch of road in central Nebraska. She figured she wouldn't make it to the next town and she prayed that a car would come along and pick her up. It was growing darker and she didn't want to be stranded in the middle of nowhere at night.

As the sun set behind her and she came across a rundown building. Despite its ramshackle appearance, a neon sign reading Harvelle's Roadhouse lit up and there were a few cars parked in the lot. She could hear the soft hum of music from within.

When she entered, the soft hum of music she heard from outside turned into the steady beat of Billy Joel's Keeping the Faith. Straight away she realised almost instantly that the place was a hunter's haunt. There were only a few patrons, and they were bent over tables drinking and cleaning assorted weapons.

There was a woman wiping down the bar and Jessa made her way over.

"Can I help you?" The woman asked her.

"Just a whiskey thanks."

The woman laughed, "Uh-huh, sure." Her tone was mocking, "You got ID?"

Jessa reached into her duffel and pulled out her fake ID.

She looked between the ID and Jessa before speaking again, "What are you? Sixteen? Seventeen?"

Jessa knew the woman didn't believe what was written on the card in her hand. "Seventeen." She admitted.

"Where are your parents?"

Jessa scoffed, "God only knows."

The woman pulled out a glass and filled it with cola. "What are you doing out here alone?"

"Working."

She looked at Jessa sceptically, "And what line of work are you in?"

Jessa glanced around the room, "Same as every person in this bar, I presume."

"What's your name, Kid?"

"I'm not a kid." She frowned, "Jessa Winchester."

"Winchester? You John's kid?" It sounded more like an accusation than an observation.

Jessa nodded. "Who are you?"

"Ellen Harvelle." She smiled at Jessa before asking, "You on your own?"

Again, Jessa nodded.

"Where are you headed?"

"Wherever there's a job."

"Got a job?"

"Not yet."

"What about a place to stay?"

She shook her head.

"I got rooms out the back, I can put you up for the night."

Jessa smiled, "How much?"

"Forty."

Jessa fished around in her bag and pulled out the last of her money, counting forty and handing it to her before returning the remaining three dollars to the bag.

Ellen stared at the bills on the counter before pushing them back, "Tell you what, first night's free."

Jessa offered her a grateful smile as she stuffed the money back into her duffel.

"Come on, I'll show you."

The room was bare, it contained only a bed, nightstand and closet. There was a small adjoining bathroom that resembled a closet with a tub.

"It's not much, but it's what I've got."

"Thank you."

"Anytime, Kid."

When Ellen left the room, Jessa climbed straight into the shower and let the hot water soak her aching muscles. The spirit she had just dealt with wasn't a difficult one, but it had beaten her around a bit before she finished it and then she had walked all day. The water turned cold after a couple of minutes so she climbed out and dried off. She twisted her wet hair into a knot on top of her head before climbing into the single bed. The bad was far from comfortable, as were the beds in many of the motels she stayed at, but she fell asleep almost instantly.

When she woke up she was momentarily disoriented, a feeling that surprised her because all her life she had been sleeping in unfamiliar places. When she got her bearings she dressed and packed up her bag before venturing back out into the bar area.

"Morning." Ellen greeted her as she mopped the floor, "How'd you sleep?"

"Very well, thank you."

Ellen glanced at the bag on her shoulder, "Are you heading off?"

Jessa nodded, "I have to make it to the next town by dark."

"You're welcome to stay another night, you know."

She smiled gratefully, "Thank you, but I should hit the road."

Ellen's heart broke for the girl. She reminded her so much of her own daughter and she was all on her own, "Jessa, if you leave now you'll only just make it before dark. You don't have money or a job. What are you going to do?"

"I'll work something out."

"Tell you what, if you help me out with the cleaning and the customers you can stay until you get a hunt."

Jessa considered it for a moment, "I don't want to get in the way."

"Trust me, honey. You'd be doing me a favour. I could use some help around here."

"Ok."

"Good. Now, go put your bag back then grab a cloth and start scrubbing down the tables."

Jessa obliged, and she and Ellen spent the next couple of hours scrubbing down every table, wall and glass in the bar.

An hour into the cleaning a young blonde girl entered the room and Ellen introduced her as her daughter, Jo. Jo took up a position on the bar and watch the other women clean.

Late in the afternoon a few patrons entered and Jessa spent the night waiting on the tables and clearing the mess that the Hunters would leave.


Each day passed similarly and Jessa found herself not wanting to pick up on a hunt. If she heard of one nearby, she would pass it on to the next hunter in. She would clean during the day and wait tables during the night and Ellen would pay her. The weeks stretched into months and when January 24th rolled around Ellen and Jo made a fuss and bought her a brand new switchblade.

Each night she would catch snippets of what other Hunters were discussing, and she would help them when she could. The immersion in Hunter culture piqued her curiosity and she found herself enrolling in college using the computer that Ellen kept out back. It wasn't as if she wanted to study, she just yearned to learn everything she could. She continued to work and every spare moment she had was spent studying, and before long she had a PhD in Folklore and Religion.

Early one spring evening, while Jessa was operating behind the bar, two suits entered. The atmosphere changed immediately, and the few Hunters that were cleaning various weapons tensed and grew silent.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" She asked as they approached the bar. Her priority was getting them out of the roadhouse.

"We were wondering if you, or any of your patrons have seen someone." One of them spoke. He wore a neatly pressed suit and a stern expression. His dark eyes bore into her with the kind of intensity that would have made a regular person nervous. But not Jessa. She had been hunting monsters her entire life, she could handle this guy.

"We ain't seen no one." Out of the corner of her eye she saw a couple of customers drop bills on the table and slip out the door.

"Are you sure?" The other one pulled an FBI badge from his back pocket. Jessa snatched it from him to inspect it. As a hunter she had seen her fair share of fake badges, but this one was legit.

"He may have stopped in her in the last few days." The first agent began, "He's in his mid-thirties and would have appeared non-threatening. He holds a blue collar job and would have only passed through."

"I don't know if you noticed," Jessa said bitterly, "But that describes most of the people we get in here."

"This guy is different." The second one, Morgan was what was written on his ID, said. "He would have tried to strike up a conversation with you but shy away from anyone else in the establishment. He would have seemed off, maybe your instincts told you to run."

Jessa laughed at him, "Again, you're describing almost every customer in this place. We don't get tourists, just blue collar folk passing through."

"He may have had a scar on his arm, just above his wrist." Morgan said, his dark eyes were pleading with her to cooperate.

"Look, maybe I saw someone like that a few days ago."

"Got a name?"

"Said his name was… Uh, Drew I think he said. He was a trucker. Passed through and I haven't seen him since."

The first agent placed a business card on the bar, "If you remember anything, or see him again, call."

"Hey, what did this guy do? To get the Feds on his tail?"

"He raped and murdered four women."

Jessa slipped the card into her back pocket and watched them leave.

The rest of the night passed pretty uneventful, until just on closing when she broke up a fight between two drunk Hunters. It took her longer than usual to usher out the last of the drinkers so it was almost midnight when she went to lock the doors. Ellen was away for unknown reasons and Jo had locked herself in her room which wasn't unusual for the eighteen-year-old.

Jessa peeked out the window when she was shutting off the lights and noticed an old lorry parked on the shoulder. Alarm bells went off in her head and her instincts told her she was in danger. She double checked the lock on the door and slid the deadbolt in place before rushing behind the bar to the phone.

"Hotchner." He answered straight away, despite the late hour.

"Agent Hotchner, my name is Jessa we spoke earlier at Harvelle's Roadhouse."

"Have you remembered something about the case?"

"He's here. Well, I think he's here. It looks like the same truck parked out front."

"Where are you now?"

"The Roadhouse. In the bar."

"Is there anyone else with you?"

"No, I closed up. But the door is locked."

"Ok, Jessa I need you to remain calm. We're on our way."

Her initial panic had subsided until she realised that Jo was in her room. "Shit, Jo." She dropped the phone and took off running out the back to Jo's room, cursing that she hadn't grabbed the shotgun that Ellen kept behind the bar. She pounded on the door, but there was no answer. "Jo?" Instinct taking over, she kicked the door with all of her force, busting the lock and sending the door swinging open.