Author's Note: Hello, dear readers. With everything that's going on in the world right now, I hope and pray that each of you are safe and healthy. Life goes on in my little corner, and I can't complain. Not that it would do me any good if I did.

I apologize for taking so long to update this story. I really didn't have an idea of where I wanted to go with this chapter, but what I ended up with wasn't really on the drafting board, so to speak. I had it partially written when whatever muse inspires fanfic writers began whispering in my ear that I needed to go in a different direction. Once again, I found myself writing and then deleting this chapter a number of times. I'm still not 100% happy with it. But then, I've always considered myself to be my own worst critic. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. As always, please take a moment to post a review or send a message. I love hearing from my readers.

CHAPTER 4

John stood outside Natalie's closed bedroom door for a moment before sighing heavily. He turned and headed up the tiled corridor toward the war room and the library beyond. He decided he really needed that drink, then he'd get in touch with either Sam or Dean and find out when they expected to reach the bunker. He hadn't been exaggerating earlier when he'd told Natalie that the refrigerator was empty. Someone needed to do some grocery shopping, and he didn't want to leave Natalie alone while it was done. Otherwise, he knew she'd take the opportunity and run. So, it would have to wait until the boys were back before one of them could go.

He almost groaned out loud when he entered the war room and spotted the two duffel bags sitting on the map table. Their presence could only mean that Sam and Dean had arrived back at the bunker while he was dealing with Natalie. He didn't know what the acoustics were like in the marble and tile hallways and corridors, but he could only imagine that sound traveled well through them. Judging from the fact that the duffel bags on the table were the ones his sons used for their personal belongings, and the weapons duffel was nowhere in sight, John suspected they had wanted to avoid the dormitory wing and had headed deeper into the bunker in order to give him and Natalie some privacy.

John sighed again as he rubbed his hand across the back of his neck in an attempt to loosen some of the tension that had built up there. He decided he'd get his drink, then go in search of his boys. He needed to let them know what was going on sooner rather than later.

He crossed the library to the table they had converted into a liquor cabinet. They had found a set of fancy decanters and whiskey tumblers in one of the library's storage cabinets, but that was too much trouble. They just left the liquor in its original bottle and kept a set of cheap whiskey tumblers nearby. He poured a healthy serving of the deep amber liquid into one of the glasses and took a sip.

For a moment John seriously considered taking a seat in one of the comfortable arm chairs scattered throughout the library so that he could relax for a moment and enjoy his drink. But, he thought, duty called. He took another sip from the tumbler before sighing heavily. He'd stop by the kitchen, he decided, to get some coffee to go with his whiskey then he'd go in search of his sons.

He growled in frustration when he reached the kitchen and saw that the coffee pot was empty. He grabbed the carafe from off the burner and the basket of used grounds and huffed as he began the process of starting a new pot.

A few minutes later, a steaming mug of whiskey-laced coffee in his hand, John went in search of his sons. He swung by the war room to make sure their duffels were still there, then headed down into the bowels of the bunker. He found them where he'd expected them to be - in the armory cleaning the weapons and putting them away.

"So, who is she, and what did she do to earn your ire?" Sam asked the moment his father walked into the armory. He shifted to look at John, but didn't stop working on the gun he'd been cleaning.

John didn't immediately respond to his youngest son's comment. He took a drink of his coffee and studied the two men sitting in front of him. "Walked in on that, did you?" he asked as he moved to lean against a nearby countertop.

"You could say that," Dean responded. He was curious as to what John had to say. "By the way, sound carries very well from the dormitory wing."

John nodded as Dean confirmed what he had suspected. He turned and sat his now half-empty mug on the counter beside his hip. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Do either of you remember Marcus Revkin? We hunted with him about ten years ago or so."

"Didn't he have a daughter?" Dean asked after a moment.

"Pain in my 'Talie," Sam immediately responded. He grinned slightly and shook his head at the memory. In truth, though, he knew the story behind it hadn't been one of his better moments — and that was saying something given some of the things he'd done in his younger years.

"What?" John questioned, his eyes narrowing at his son's comment.

"That's what I'd started calling her that night," Sam continued. "She was being a pain in my ass — totally ignoring what I'd tell her to do when I tried to get her to follow her dad's orders. You walked back in just as she'd decided to fight me over it." Sam paused for a moment. "What was she nine?" He shrugged. "However old she was, she fought like a little demon."

John pinched the bridge of his nose. He remembered that night. He, Dean, and Marcus had walked through the door of the cabin just as Natalie had punched Sam in the shoulder and Sam had pushed her away. Marcus had immediately grabbed Natalie and had dragged into their bedroom. The sounds of a spanking soon drifted through the closed door. John hadn't wasted any time either in turning Sam over his knee and delivering a blistering lesson about fighting with those younger and smaller than himself, and especially with women.

"It's a good thing I didn't know that then," John commented on a sign.

Sam just shrugged. "She started it by calling me an asshole. Who would have thought she'd even known language like that."

"So, how'd she end up here?" Dean asked, interrupting the conversation before John could comment further. He was getting impatient to find out just what he and Sam had walked in on.

"You know that rugaru I was hunting in Minnesota?"

"Yeah," Dean replied, somewhat skeptically.

John picked up this mug and took another drink as he gathered his thoughts. He went on to describe what had transpired and how they'd come to be at the bunker. "You walked in on the first part of our discussion."

"The first part?" Sam asked, concerned about what was happening between his father and the young woman he remembered.

John nodded. "She has it in her mind that since her father's dead, there's nobody who cares about whether she lives or dies. I got the impression she doesn't care much about it, either." John glanced down at the coffee mug he still held in his hand. He swallowed the remaining liquid in one large gulp, wishing for a moment that it was a bit stronger. "I had to convince her otherwise."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, nothing says I care like getting your ass beat."

John shrugged. "I probably would have let her off lightly, but she decided to bite me while she was over my knee."

Sam winced at the same time Dean gave a low whistle. Neither of them had ever been brave enough or stupid enough to try something like that, so they could only imagine their dad's response.

John ignored their response as he continued. "I want to talk to her about what's going on in her head that she thought going after that monster was a good idea. And if that means I have to bust her ass to get her to start thinking before she gets herself killed, then that's exactly what I'm going to do."

Sam and Dean glanced at each other. They were all too familiar with their father's stubbornness and knew Natalie was in for a rough time if she tried to take him on.

"So, why you?" Sam asked the question that had been plaguing him during their conversation.

"What do you mean 'why me'?"

"Just what I said," Sam responded. "What makes you think you have the right to step in that way? After all, she's technically an adult."

Dean stared at his younger brother in surprise. Sam hadn't challenged their father that way in quite a while, and to do it over some teenage girl with a death wish?

John glared at his son as he crossed his arms across his chest. "Not that I need your permission," he said in a hard voice, "but initially, I saw a woman in way over her head. Then I learned who she is, and I saw a kid who is hurting and who doesn't know what to do about it. Right now, me hauling her ass back here may be the only thing that is keeping her from doing something stupid and getting herself killed." He couldn't put into words what was running through his head, nor was he sure he wanted to share those thoughts with his sons, even if he could. He saw in Natalie the same need for revenge that had become his obsession, and he didn't want to see her going down that road.

Sam sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, mirroring his father's stance. "Well, I just hope you know what you're doing."

The silence in the room became uncomfortable. John decided it was time to change the subject. He straightened and glanced down into the now empty coffee mug. "One of us needs to make a run to the grocery store. The refrigerator and the cabinets are bare."

"Yeah, we noticed," Dean commented in a heavily sarcastic voice. They'd been very disappointed when the only thing that had been waiting for them when they'd arrived at the bunker was a half empty pot of coffee. He sighed. "Why don't you go, you could probably use a break. We'll keep an eye on Natalie." He shared a hard look with his brother, urging him to agree.

Sam shrugged. "Yeah, sure, we'll watch out for her and make sure she stays put."

John nodded as he headed toward the door. "I shouldn't be gone more than a couple of hours. If she wakes up before I'm back, just keep her company."

XxxxxX XxxxxX XxxxxX XxxxxX

"What the hell was that about with Dad?" Dean demanded as they moved back into the main area of the bunker.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sam responded as he dropped down into a chair at the map table. He wasn't as quick as his brother or his father to reach for a whiskey bottle when things went south, but he was seriously tempted at the moment.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." Dean was too keyed up to sit. Instead, he began pacing the room. "You haven't butted heads with Dad like that in years. Why now?"

ran his hands over his face in frustration. "I don't know, Dean. Could it be that he barely knows this girl, but he's planning on going full Corporal John Winchester, US Marines, on her ass? He doesn't have any right to do that."

"You don't know that's what he has planned," Dean rounded on his brother. He knew his family well enough to know that nothing good could come out of the current tension between his father and his brother.

"Don't we?" Sam came to his feet to confront Dean. "Were you even listening to what he said? He plans to bust her ass for the decisions she made, likely out of grief. Plus, as I said, he barely knows her. He hunted with her father once ten years ago. That doesn't give him any say over how she lives her life."

"She's a hunter's kid. That's all Dad needed to know." Dean turned to study his brother and sighed heavily as he read the expression on the other man's features. "You really feel that strongly about it?" he asked, not certain he wanted to hear what his brother had to say.

"Yes, Dean, I do. Natalie needs understanding and patience, not to have her ass busted by a virtual stranger with preconceived notions of what is and is not acceptable behavior."

Dean rubbed his hand over the back of his neck in an attempt to ease some of the tension that was building there. "Okay, fine," he said as he blew out a huff of air. "I'll talk to him." He held up a hand to forestall Sam's response when his brother started to speak. "I said, I'll talk to him, Sam. I'm not making any promises about being able to change his mind.

Sam nodded. "That's all I'm asking."

XxxxxX XxxxxX XxxxxX XxxxxX

Natalie groaned as she rolled over onto her back. It wasn't just her backside that was sore. She ached all over. Apparently, she thought wryly as she shifted to sit on the side of her bed, being on the dance team at her school had used a different set of muscles than taking on supernatural monsters.

She was too young to feel this sore she thought as she rose to her feet and crossed the room to where her duffel bag sat on the desk. She dug through it until she found her towel and clean clothes. She pulled her toiletry bag out of the duffel's side pocket before making her way to the bathroom down the hall.

A few minutes later, as she stood under the hot spray of the shower, letting the heat loosen her stiff muscles, her thoughts began drifting to what had happened earlier in the day. She hadn't been lying when she'd told John that she didn't have anybody to care about her. She was an only child of parents who were also only children. So, there were no siblings, cousins, aunts or uncles who might fill the void of her missing parents. Because of the very transitory nature of the hunter's life, she'd never really had any close friends. Even her college roommate had only been someone with whom she'd shared space. Natalie wasn't sure if she would have even considered Emily to be a friend.

But, the moment John had held her in his arms after spanking her, she'd felt safe. It was a feeling she'd lost since she'd learned that her father had been killed, and she had never really expected to experience it again. But, at the same time, she resented the fact that he had thought it was his right to do what he'd done - not to mention what he might have planned for when they actually got around to talking about why he'd found her taking on that rugaru.

No, she couldn't stay here. Doing that wouldn't get her anywhere other than in trouble with John Winchester, another was something she didn't need in her life. She had other things she needed to do, like avenge her father's death.

Having made that decision, Natalie quickly finished her shower and dressed. She towel dried her hair and pulled it back into a braid. She reminded herself that she needed to get another hairdryer at her first opportunity. She hadn't figured out what happened to the one she'd taken with her when she left her dorm room for the last time.

Once back in her room, Natalie emptied her duffel and pulled out the false bottom to reveal the stacks of cash hidden there. Before she'd left Greeley to head toward Minnesota, she'd emptied out the savings account her maternal grandparents had started for her when she'd been born. It had been intended to pay for her college education, but she's received a full ride scholarship from the University of Northern Colorado. She hadn't had to dip too far into those funds for her education – just enough to have spending money. But, when she'd decided to leave school, she had withdrawn half the amount in the account to fund her trip to find the creature that had killed her father. She quickly counted what was left. It would be enough to get another cheap used car and to replace the weapons John had taken from her. She'd withdraw more funds later if she needed them.

She tucked a handful of bills into her front jeans pocket and repacked her duffel bag. She glanced around the room to make sure she hadn't left anything behind. Moving to the door, she took a deep breath as she slowly eased it open and slipped out into the tiled corridor. She quietly closed the door and paused to get her bearings. John had told her the kitchen was down the hallway to her right, so she figured the exit would be in the opposite direction. Sighing heavily, she headed down the hallway to her left, hoping she'd be able to find her way out before John Winchester realized she was no longer asleep in her bedroom.

XxxxxX XxxxxX XxxxxX XxxxxX

Dean stood and stretched. "I'll be back in a minute," he said to Sam as he started toward the corridor that led to the dormitory wing.

"What's up?" Sam asked as he looked up from the book he was reading.

"I don't know," Dean replied. He stopped and turned to look at his brother. "Hopefully, nothing, but my gut is telling me to go check on Natalie."

"You think she's trying to sneak out?" Sam asked. His thought of, not that I'd blame her, went unsaid.

Dean shrugged. "That's what I'm going to find out. Keep an eye out for her, will you? In case she tries to come through here?"

"Yeah, alright," Sam replied. He didn't like how his dad was handling the situation with her. However, from what his dad had told them, Natalie was in way over her head. The only thing her running off would accomplish would be to make matters worse, and possibly get her killed. He watched as Dean hurried off down the corridor in search of their guest.

Dean knocked lightly on Natalie's bedroom door. When there was no answer, he eased it up enough to peek inside in case she was still asleep. Once he saw the empty, unmade bed he opened the door the rest of the way and stepped inside. He quickly scanned the room and saw that her personal belongings were gone.

Giving her the benefit of the doubt that she had taken her duffel with her to the bathroom while she showed, he hurried down the hallway. He didn't knock as he entered the large room. The shower stalls here in a separate room from the sinks and toilets. He didn't hear water running as he approached the doorway separating the two parts of the facilities. Again, he gave her the benefit of the doubt as he really hoped he wasn't going to have to go searching for her in the labyrinth of hallways that made up the bunker. "Natalie, are you in there? It's Dean Winchester," he announced. "If you're in there, you'd better say so. Otherwise, I'm coming in there," he warned. After several seconds of continuing silence, Dean stepped into the room and immediately saw that the doors to all six shower stalls were standing open. "Dammit," Dean cursed as he turned on his heel and left the room.

He decided to stop by the kitchn on the off chance that Natalie had gone there before beginning the search of the rest of the bunker. Once again, he cursed when he found the room empty. His temper was starting to rise with each step he took down the hallway in search of the missing teenager.

Dean didn't know if John had brought Natalie into the bunker through the main entrance at the top of the stairs that led down into the war room or not. That was the entrance they all tended to use because of its convenience to the rest of the bunker. However, there was another entrance from the back of the garage into one of the more remote hallways on the main level. It was possible that his dad had used that entrance when they'd returned. It wasn't all that likely, but at the moment, Dean wasn't going to discount that possibility or the possibility that Natalie had gone in search of it rather than attempt to leave through what was essentially the bunker's front door.

When the corridor he was in ended at a T junction, Dean paused a moment trying to decide whether Natalie would have chosen the left corridor, which ultimately led to a dead end, or the right corridor, which ended at the door to the garage. Trusting his instincts, Dean moved down the left corridor. He was careful to keep his steps as silent as possible so as to avoid tipping off Natalie that he was on her trail.

It didn't take him long to spot her. She had a duffel bag slung over her shoulder and was opening and reclosing doors. Dean didn't know if she was looking for someplace to hide or an exit.

"What the hell are you doing down here?" he demanded in a hard, loud voice. He felt a hint of satisfaction when Natalie let out a loud squeak of surprise and turned to run down the corridor in an attempt to get away from him.

He smiled and shook his head in amusement. It took him only a few long strides to catch up to her. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. "Just where do you think you're going?" he asked.

"Anywhere but here," Natalie replied as she tried to pull her arm from his grasp. She knew this man had to be one of John Winchester's sons. She remembered his youngest son's name was Sam, but she couldn't remember the name of the other one. Regardless, she was determined to get away from him.

When trying to loosen his grip on her arm didn't work, she deliberately slowed her pace so that she dropped behind him. She kicked out at the back of his leg. She missed his knee, but caught his calf. She interrupted his stride and surprised him enough that he released her arm in reaction. Natalie took the opportunity and immediately began running down the corridor. If she could get to one of the empty rooms she'd found, she could lock herself in until he gave up and went away.

Dean cursed as he took off after her, limping slightly from the pain in his calf. It still only took him a few strides to catch up to Natalie. She immediately began struggling when he wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her off her feet.

Natalie dropped the duffel and began bucking and twisting around, trying to break his hold on her. "Let go of me, you asshole." When that didn't work, she violently threw her head back.

"Sonuvabitch!" Dean exclaimed as he jerked his head back just in time to avoid a broken nose. "Calm your ass down," he ordered as he gave her a hard shake. Quickly deciding it would be quicker to just toss her over his shoulder and haul her ass out of there and back to the war room.

He set her on her feet and immediately turned her so she faced him. "You've got two choices. Walk out of here willingly or be carried out over my shoulder."

"Or you can just tell me how to get out of this shithole, and you don't have to worry about me ever again."

Dean studied her for a moment. "Dad wants you here, you stay here until he says you can go. You'd better get used to that idea, or you're going to be in for a world of hurt."

"Go to hell."

Dean sighed. He bent and lifted Natalie over his shoulder. As he straightened and started down the hallway, he could feel her shifting around. "You punch me or bite me," he warned in a hard voice, "Dad won't be the only one to bust your ass today. You got me?"

"Fuck you,"

Dean just shook his head and landed a hard slap against her upturned backside. She yelped at the renewed pain and bucked up. "Cool it," Dean ordered as he slapped her again. "And watch your mouth. It's getting really old, really fast. I'm warning you right now Dad won't put up with it, and neither will I."

Dean started down the corridor, eating up the distance in long, angry strides. He was beginning to understand why his Dad had taken her over his knee already – especially if this was the attitude she'd taken with him.

"My duffel," Natalie said in a voice that carried a note of concern.

"You had the opportunity to take it back with you, but you chose to do this the hard way," Dean stated. There was no sympathy in his voice. He figured that like most hunters who lived on the road, the bulk of her belongings were in that bag. "You can come back and get it later, after you calm down and ask one of us properly. I promise it ain't going anywhere."

Natalie was still hanging over his shoulder when Dean walked back into the war room.

"Problem?" Sam asked as Dean sat her on her feet beside the map table.

"I don't know," he said, pinning Natalie with a look. "We gonna have a problem?"

Natalie dropped into the closest chair and crossed her arms over her chest. "No."

"We'd better not," Dean warned as he moved to stand over her, "or you're going to be one sorry kid. LIke I told you a few minutes ago, John Winchester isn't the one only who can and will bust your ass. Got it?" He shook his head in warning at Sam's raised eyebrow before turning back to glare at Natalie. "I asked you a question. I expect an answer. Or do you want a demonstration?"

"I got it," Natalie responded in an angry voice.

"You'd better, because I'm not joking," Dean stated.

Natalie swiveled the chair so that her back was to the two men. She leaned her head back against the seat and took several deep breaths, trying to stop the tears that were threatening to spill from her eyes. Her life had gone to Hell over the last few months, and she didn't know how much more she could take.

"Can I go back to my room?" She asked in a small voice.

Sam started to comment, but Dean beat him to it. "Nope, you're going to sit right there where we can keep an eye on you until Dad gets back."