Thank you to everyone who read the prologue and to everyone who reviewed, followed and favorited! I apologize for this chapter being kind of short, I meant to combine this chapter with another but I haven't found the time to finish re-writing that one.
As always, comments are much appreciated!


July 24, 1993

"Dean? Charlie?" Sam's voice sounded through the quiet salvage yard. The ten year old was smarter than your average kid, so getting away from him had been no easy task.

Charlie's heart hammered as she pressed her back against the old, broken down Volvo. A giggle of excitement bubbled in her throat, but before she could make a sound, Dean's hand had shot up to cover her mouth. The touch of his fingers sent a pleasant tingling sensation down her spine. It was strange, the two had been friends for years but it was only recently that his presence elicited all kinds of confusing new sensations.

Dean poked his head out from their hiding place, looking left and right to make sure the coast was clear, before turning back to her with his signature one sided grin.

"Sammy's gone," he grabbed her hand tightly, "let's go."

The two ran across the salvage yard, ducking and weaving their way through the piles of old car parts and junk, until they reached the tree line surrounding Bobby's property. Once in the trees and away from the threat of prying eyes, their pace slowed to a casual jog, with Dean still holding on to her hand. Charlie hoped he wouldn't notice.

About a five minute jog from where they'd started was a small clearing, at the edge of which sat a sturdy old tree. A tree house the two had constructed three years prior sat nestled in its branches, always a welcome sight. It was a place they could escape the annoyingly curious presence of Sam and the constantly watchful eyes of their fathers and just be kids. It was a place meant for just the two of them.

Charlie climbed the rope ladder and pushed open the hatch. It landed with a thunk as she began heaving herself inside. She swung her backpack off her shoulder and flopped onto the makeshift couch in the corner. It was a more recent addition to their lair, an old backseat they'd found while scrounging around the salvage yard one day. Dean had constructed a simple, wooden frame to lift it off the ground and Charlie had made it more comfortable by pilfering old blankets and pillows from her attic.

Dean popped out of the hatch with ease, setting his backpack on the seat next to her. "You got the comic books?"

By the time she had dumped all of the comics onto the floor in front of them, Dean was already cutting open a bag of candy with his knife. The rustling caused her to grin.

"You're going to end up with diabetes, you know."

"I'm healthier than most kids our age, sweet cheeks."

Charlie bristled. "Don't ever, EVER call me that again."

"What, sweet cheeks? What's wrong with sweet cheeks?"

Charlie rolled her eyes. Dean took some time getting used to, especially the way he loved to push her buttons from time to time, but in all the years they'd been friends, she'd learned the best thing to do was just to ignore him.

"What did you bring?"

Dean held up two, family size bags. "M&Ms and gummy bears."

She couldn't figure out why she would even ask at this point. Dean was a simple guy, bringing the same snacks every single time.

"Would you relax and act like a kid?" he chuckled before she could say another word, "I can hear you wanting to nag me about my choice of snacks and you sound like a mom."

A heavy silence fell between them. Dean no doubt felt like a jackass. Charlie still had nightmares about the night she'd lost her mom and the time she'd spent imprisoned. She would wake up in the middle of the night, barely able to breathe and drenched in sweat.

Dean had also lost his mother to a demon, something the two had bonded over immediately. No matter what, they'd always had each other to talk to when one- or both- of their fathers had been too grief stricken to be present parents, or when talking to them had simply seemed too difficult.

"Hey," Dean's head snapped up when she spoke, "can we just read these comic books and be kids?"

He smiled, she did too and the tension was instantly lifted.

Hours spent laughing and reading comic books, seemed like mere minutes inside the tree house. Neither Dean nor Charlie remembered to check the time, until dusk had fallen outside and the tree house grew dark. Knowing they would be in a world of hurt upon their return, the two quickly packed up their things and began running, their feet pounding against the forest floor as fast as their legs could carry. Within minutes, they'd reached the edge of the trees, the warm, yellow lights from the salvage yard greeting them.

Almost frantically, Charlie began feeling for the hole they'd cut in the chain link fence, when Dean suddenly grabbed her arm. Terrified of what might be wrong, her heart hammered inside her chest, as she turned to face him. But instead of panic, his eyes were soft looking back at her.

"I… have something for you," he reached inside his leather jacket and pulled out a small, wooden box. "I meant to give it to you at the tree house but, you know, lost track of time and all."

As he placed the box into her open hand, Charlie couldn't tear her eyes away from his. "You remembered?"

The corner of his mouth tugged upward. "Your birthday? Yeah, I remembered. Sorry I couldn't come, dad was on a job."

She waved him off with her free hand, more than familiar with the life a hunter's family led. He was here now and he'd thought of her. Heat spread across Charlie's cheeks at the thought, and she was glad for the dim lighting in this corner of the lot.

Inside the box was a small, silver pendant attached to a nylon cord. Her fingers examined the charm carefully. It wasn't your typical jewelry, more like something you'd find in a book about ancient devils or cultures.

"It's supposed to protect you against evil spirits," Dean quickly explained, no doubt worried she was turning her nose up at the unconventional piece of jewelry. "I found it at this little hunter shop dad took us to, got myself one to match."

Charlie's eyes met Deans, lingering there as she smiled. "It's perfect, thanks."

Dean smiled back at her, but didn't speak, the only sound being the crickets and cicadas off in the distance. A gentle breeze carried with it the scent of summer blooms and the leather of Dean's jacket. Without warning, his soft fingers wrapped around her wrist, gently coaxing her closer, until they stood within inches of each other. Charlie's heart skipped a beat, her cheeks burning. She held her breath in anticipation, too nervous to move, wondering what was going on in his head and if he felt as nervous as she did.

Slowly, Dean leaned in closer, his breath tickling her face and causing the sweet sensation of butterflies throughout her body. And then his lips brushed against hers, sweeter than anything she could have ever imagined. His soft, full lips captured hers, hesitantly at first but quickly growing more confident as hers responded in kind. All the time spent worrying whether or not she'd know how to kiss when the time came had been for nothing, their lips interlocked like two perfect puzzle pieces. Dean's hand found hers, their fingers interlocking.

"Charlotte Singer!"

Startled by the sudden interruption, the two flew apart in an instant. With guilty looks on their faces, they stared at Bobby through the chain link fence. His nostrils flared, his fists balled at his sides.

"Get in the house, now."

Charlie and Dean hurried to obey, knowing better than to test their luck. If only they had known then just how angry Bobby was and just how long he was willing to hold a grudge.