I know it's been forever, and for that, I'm sorry! I got a tragic case of writer's block and had no idea of what else to write for this story. None of my idea were speaking to me and it was driving me insane. Anyway, I had most of this written a long time ago and I was just able to finish it. Enjoy!

Ages:

Dean: 30

Sam: 27

Carter: 18

Takes place during season 6

Disclaimer: Supernatural doesn't belong to me, unfortunately.

The rain fell in steady waves, clashing thunderously within the motel; but Carter couldn't hear it. She laid on the bed, eyes lazily staring at the ceiling. The room around her laid in disarray; sheets pulled off beds, empty beer bottles and food containers everywhere, research papers tacked to the walls, clothes thrown in uneven heaps, garments spilling out of bags, and spare guns laying on tables. The room was a mess by everyone's standards.

Carter's eyes traced the marks on the ceiling, a tear escaping her grasp. She'd told herself a week ago that in three more months, when she graduated, she could get out of this life. She wouldn't have to worry about hunting anymore; no more salt rounds, no more digging up graves, no more research into everything scary. A sob broke from Carter's lips. None of the monsters will ever go away. There will always be a crossroad with a demon nearby, always a restless spirit waiting for revenge, always vampires with blood-thirst, Pagans with a god complex. It was never ending. But why was Carter stuck with this job? Why did she have to hunt the scary? Why was it her family's responsibility?

A thunderclap shook the motel and Carter still couldn't hear it. Sobs now poured out of her body. She thought of when she first learned to shoot a gun at the tender age of five. After that lesson, before she learned to shoot, Dean explained everything. At age five, Carter was brought into hunting. Safety was Dean's reason why, but hunting was anything but safe. It was broken bones, concussions, and death. It was being too scared to fall asleep, carrying salt in your back pocket, and being able to spout exorcisms. It was exhausting, heartbreaking, and terrifying. Carter couldn't stand it anymore. She never wanted this life. But damn was she stuck with it. And it tore her heart out.

All her life, Carter wished to be normal. Small town, real job, lots of friends, normal life. Every new town she went to, every damn new town, she believed at least for a second that that could be her final town. That finally she could make lasting friends, could actually get to know her teachers, could actually enjoy school that much more. But maybe that life wasn't supposed to be hers. Maybe she was meant for hunting. Perhaps she was born to do exactly what she was doing. But how was that fair? Who decides who hunts and who gets a normal life? Who did Carter piss off to get the short end of the stick?

Her sobs slowed as her eyes followed the wall down to the soft, flickering tv. Damn, what she wouldn't do to have a different life for a little while at least. Dean had it when he was with Lisa and Ben for a year, Sam had it when he went to college for four years. God damn it, she deserved her own time away from hunting. Maybe it wouldn't be for another four years, but it was going to happen.

Another thunderous boom rocked the room, startling Carter. She looked over towards the window and sat up. She finally knew what she had to do. It wouldn't be instant relief from her life, but it would come quick enough. Carter hopped off the bed and headed towards Sam's computer. Nobody was going to decide her life for her anymore.

Thanks for reading! I hoped you all enjoyed! Please leave comments if you get the chance, they really do help me out! If all goes according to plan (with me, this doesn't always happen, but I try to stick to my plans as much as possible), then the next will take place after "Apologies For The Weary," the chapter before this one.

If anyone has suggestions for another chapter, please let me know!