Ellen frowned while she filled the shelves with what she had bought during her supply run. The Winchester boys had been with her family for about two weeks now. As Pastor Jim had said, they were quiet and kept to themselves. Dean cared for Sam, making Ellen's presence as good as unnecessary because he really didn't need to be babysat at all. In fact it had taken Ellen only a few days to be confident about leaving him to look after Sam and Jo. He was ferocious when it came to the kids' well-being on his watch and Ellen knew that there was no harm to come to them as long as the twelve-year old was their sitter. She had also told him that he didn't have to continue making lunch for Sam but instead of letting her do it, Dean had started to make lunch for Jo as well.

Despite the fact that the boys were easy to look after, Ellen sometimes thought that if it weren't for Jo, it would never work. Dean was silent and broody. He didn't like to talk to her or William a lot, didn't care to share anything. But he was like a different person around their daughter. She was soon included in Dean's family circle, probably because she wouldn't tolerate anything less from the moment the boys entered the Roadhouse. Jo demanded to be played with and included and Sam did so without hesitation, giving Dean no possible chance of keeping her out of the loop. Ellen loved her daughter for that.

The kids – now they were actually her kids, all three of them – had just finished their lunch and Dean was taking away the empty plates to the small kitchen that was just through a back door. When he re-emerged he stood next to Sam and Jo for a while watching them play before he came over and stood in front of Ellen. She looked at him with a smile. "Hi, Dean."

"Do you want help?"

Her eyebrows rose a little at that. Dean rarely initiated conversation and she was pleased that he seemed more comfortable with her now. "Wouldn't you rather play with Sam and Jo?"

"Their game is stupid." He grabbed a few boxes of crackers. "Where do these go?" Ellen pointed at the cupboard and Dean started sorting the supplies learning the order of things in the shelves and cupboards one at a time. Ellen tried to hide a smile. This could work after all.

+++

The first time Ellen saw that Dean was indeed John Winchester's son was when William was cleaning his guns on one of the corner tables of the Roadhouse. The kids were playing in the backroom that was their living room as Dean came out rolling his eyes. "What is it?" Ellen couldn't help but smirk at the expression on the boy's face.

"They are such babies."

"Well… Jo is only half as old as you are, Dean. Of course she's still a baby in your eyes."

He shrugged, turning to her. She was sitting on a stool at the counter reading a book. After Jo was born, Ellen rarely found time to read, but paradoxically, she had more opportunities now since the number of children had tripled. Now that Jo had someone else to play with - and Sam really didn't mind that job – she didn't demand as much of Ellen's time. Plus, Dean was a pretty professional sitter, although he was only twelve. The boys didn't make much extra work. Not as much as their presence saved her anyway. The only difference was cooking for two more and that was the least of Ellen's worries. Sam and Dean ate everything. From what Sam had told her they could live on cereal and SpaghettiOs.

It was still hours before the first customers would arrive and there little left to do to prepare. Dean knew that as well and left Ellen to her book, walking over to William with a strong stride. Her husband looked up from the shotgun he was cleaning with raised eyebrows.

"Want help?"

Ellen didn't think it a good idea to have guns around a kid, but the reality that the Roadhouse probably held more weapons on any night than the annual meeting of the joined NRA-clubs of Texas suggested it was better to have the kid know how to handle weapons safely than not have him handle them at all.

"D'you ever hold a gun?" Her husband looked at the boy inquisitively.

"My dad always gave me a Winchester rifle and a 9mm when he left."

William's eyebrows rose one story on their way to his scalp. "You know how to clean them then?"
Dean nodded taking a small sidearm from the table and started unloading the clip and chamber before dismantling it for cleaning. Ellen felt her heart sink. She should be glad that Dean knew how to safely handle a firearm, but the fact that he was not yet thirteen and did so perfectly was a horrible thought all the same.

The boy sat down next to her husband and they spent the next half an hour cleaning and oiling everything from a small revolver to a shotgun. When they were done William smiled at the boy clapping him on the shoulders. "You know how to shoot?"

Dean nodded. That day he shot down two dozen targets from different distances and didn't miss one single shot. Ellen saw him smiling as they stored away the guns and for the first time he told them something about himself. He told them he had been taken shooting by his dad for the first time when he was about six. He hadn't missed. His dad had been proud.

Ellen could only think that this was the age Jo was now. She wouldn't learn shooting. Not now and not in the next ten years if you asked Ellen. Sixteen. That was the legal age kids were allowed to drive. Wasn't that early enough?

**1996**

Ellen got out of the car and walked up the stairs of the school's main building. She had gotten the call about an hour ago and the secretary on the phone didn't specify what was the matter – but assured her that her kids were not dying right now. So Ellen wasn't even sure which of the three kids this was about seeing that they lived in a rural area where all schools were hosted in the adjoining buildings of the same complex but with separate campuses. Ellen had kids in 5th, 7th and 11th grade. She was fluctuating between worry and annoyance as she opened the front door and walked towards the principal's office. She knew that the three didn't exactly win the prize for being everyone's favorites. Dean tended to be bold when he spoke to the other kids and otherwise didn't bloom when it came to social activities. He was far from being a bully, but it wouldn't be the first time that he actually kicked a bully's ass for getting up in his face or even worse Sam's or Jo's. It was what she prepared herself for mentally. When the kid had come to them he hadn't been inexperienced in hand-to-hand fighting (just as he hadn't been an empty page when it came to firearms) and he hadn't let a chance go by to learn more and practice with her husband. He could probably beat up every single member of the wrestling and boxing teams of his school. But he didn't care to join any team sports. None of her kids did. They were just not the socializing kind.

Sam was a good student and his teachers thought highly of him, saying he was very attentive and clever. But he still was kind of the oddball in school. A tall, scrawny kid that lived with a family that wasn't his own, a big brother who happened to get into trouble more than average and a very tight relationship with a girl that wasn't his sister but was treated like one. He was a nerd, spending his time studying even though he had the build of a future basketball player. Sam didn't like to talk about himself, especially his past and his family (neither did Dean but he had a way of intimidating people out of asking him anything), and that made the other kids kind of suspicious, fueling a lot of gossip.

Jo was like Dean in many aspects. She was a pretty girl but she tended to be bold (some said even rude) and didn't see the need to integrate too much. She did have friends but she still preferred her as-good-as-brothers when it came down to the choosing who to spend time with. Sam was her best friend, while Dean was as much of a big brother to her as any big brother could ever be.

Ellen knew why her kids didn't win any prizes as most beloved students. They were different. They knew a lot more than the other kids and that made them careful. One doesn't brag about monsters, ghosts, demons, guns, knifes and other usual hunter business in front of anyone outside of that world, much less their classmates. They would never bring kids home because at home there was always the possibility of a 6'4'' guy with a shotgun and a machete would bounce through the door and order a shot of whiskey and a box of shotgun shells to go. Try explaining that to the parents' board!

Pastor Jim had seen to it that within a year the Harvelles became the Winchester boys' legal guardians. With that Ellen had stopped thinking of 'their daughter' and 'the boys' but started taking them all as 'her kids'. Now she saw her kids on the chairs in front of the principal's office. Dean's face was solemn, his jaw set and his mouth a straight line while he balanced a guilty-looking Jo on his knees. She was eleven and could very well sit on her own chair but in times of crisis she would still end up on one lap or the other. It was her way of supporting the boys. Her way of being there. Sam sat next to his brother holding a cold pack to his lip while pulling absentmindedly at the laces of Jo's shoes. Her legs were flung over his lap and Ellen knew that this was not just one of them getting in trouble but a huge family crisis awaiting her.

As she came closer she saw that Sam's cold pack was for a split lip and a big purple bruise on his chin. She looked at him for a moment before letting her gaze fall on the older boy next to him. Dean's left cheek was red, growing blue fast, and his brow was crusted with blood from a small gash there. "What the hell? Would any of you care to explain this to me?" She put her hands on her hips, eyebrows raised in an absolutely-not-amused look and saw Sam and Jo shrink away a little. Dean didn't flinch, didn't look up. She knew she could intimidate him, he just didn't show it.
"Dean?" He was the oldest. It was their understanding that he was responsible for keeping the others out of trouble while in school even if he couldn't do so himself. Until today, he had managed it. There had been a couple of incidents where Dean had taken the punishment for one of the others due to stepping in before they could catch the trouble themselves. The teachers didn't really like it when a 17 year old boy handled the problems of an eleven year old girl… they thought it overkill and Ellen agreed to a certain degree. But once or twice she was glad he was there to catch the punches.

Dean looked at her and his eyes made it clear that he was not going to answer, didn't think he had to answer and that he was not sorry. This was a first. Dean always stood to what he did but he had never looked at her like this. There was hurt in the green eyes of the boy that had nothing to do with the pain of his bruises; that hurt was accompanied with rage and something that ranged between grief and resentment. Whatever had happened it was severe, that much was sure. Dean could roll with the punches. He had kept it together when his father had died, only giving in to tears when the thought nobody would hear him cry. Dean only ever snapped when it came to family. She knew this had to be about family as well.

"Sam?" She didn't push Dean any further instead she turned to look at his younger brother. The boy sighed slowly shaking his head sending shaggy brown hair bouncing around his head before looking up at her. He looked angry. More so then Dean and there was no regret in his face either, only the understanding that there would be a punishment and he'd take it without argument. "They deserved it. More even."

She nodded acknowledging their remorselessness. "Who deserved it and for what?"

Jo jumped off Dean's knees then standing in front of Ellen with the same guilty look on her face she had worn before. "I told Sam what they said about their dad. I didn't know it was going to make him so mad. I'm sorry, mom. But they were being mean and they lied!"

Ellen nodded again waiting for further explanations. She was slightly irritated as Sam sent Jo to go wash her hands in the next bathroom and the girl only shot him a look that said 'I know you just want to talk without me listening' but leaving none the less. As she was gone Ellen crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows in a command to spill it now or be ready to live with the consequences.

Sam and Dean shared a long look and the younger boy started to speak through his teeth clenching his jaw in anger. "Jo came and told me that some guys from the football team were saying that our Dad isn't dead…."

Ellen frowned. "Alright."

She watched as Sam took a deep breath before speaking further, his voice only slightly above a whisper strained with emotion. "I told Dean and we went to ask them what the deal was…. I mean I got those strange looks over the last week from several people and I kinda figured that'd be related." He paused again and Ellen's patience was close to running out. "They told everyone that dad wasn't dead but in prison because he was some kind of an addict who was violent and abusive. Half the school thinks we are strange because our dad sexually molested us." He hardly got out the last sentence and Ellen felt the dread at what a lie like that would do to the already isolated kids. Sam was taking deep breaths to get back the control of his feelings. She saw tears glisten in his eyes. The boys loved their dad, idealized him to the point of hero-worship and hearing things like that about him hurt the parts of their hearts that were still the same little boys who just wanted their dad to be there and be proud of them.

"I jumped the asshole who dared saying that to my face." Sam looked at her challenging her to judge him for this behavior. "He laughed at me while saying it." Sam's voice was but a growl by now. "His friends wanted to help him but they couldn't handle Dean."

Ellen felt her eyes grow wide. "I understand your anger… but how seriously did you hurt them?"
She got rather angry as Dean snorted out a sound of disgust. "They got a few black eyes and the shock of a lifetime, but no bones were broken and they will all be fit again in a week's time." Ellen felt herself letting out a breath of relief she hadn't noticed she held. She knew that Dean – and probably Sam as well by now – could probably have killed them with his bare hands. He knew exactly how to break someone's wrist with one smooth movement and that was just the taster. Her boys might have been enraged but they had kept some control and she thanked them for it.

"But the principle said we had 'ganged up' on the guy. That's bullshit."

Ellen closed her eyes feeling a headache spread between her temples… this was going to be one more hard fight. Maybe she should look into different schools in the vicinity. She knew if one of them had to go then the others would go too, no discussions there. It was the pack's rules.

**1997**

Ellen poured a jug of lemonade into glasses and called for her daughter. After a minute of clattering and bumping sounds from the backroom the door swung open and the blond head of her girl appeared, looking at her expectantly. Ellen didn't even want to know what had caused the sounds of destruction.
"Go get the boys. Lunch is ready." Jo nodded enthusiastically. A little too enthusiastically. "And don't even think of getting up on that roof!" Her suspicions were proved correct as she saw her kid's smile falter.

"But mom! Sam and Dean are on the roof." Her pout might work with the boys from school – hell, a sweet little blond girl like Jo didn't even have to blink for it to work with the boys from school. Ellen was just glad that the boys were rather intimidated by her 'big brothers' and didn't dare anything – but Ellen found herself only slightly amused that she would even try.

"Sam and Dean are fixing the roof and they are allowed up there because they are older than you and promised to be careful." Actually Dean was fixing the roof and Sam was handing him the tools and materials while chatting about God and his brother. Though the teachers might consider Ellen's little hoard as too quiet, around family at least Sam did talk a lot and Jo didn't fall much short of him in that department. Only Dean didn't talk at a hundred miles per hour, but he did have a mouth on him and a set of witty retorts if the mood struck.

"But Sam is only two years older then I am!"

"Two years are still two years, Jo. Usually I wouldn't let Sam up there either but your dad is not gonna be back for at least another week and the roof needs to be fixed. With Dean leaving soon I'd rather have it done today than tomorrow." She saw Jo's face fall a little. Her daughter was anything but happy about the fact that Dean had planned to do a little road trip after graduation. The official graduation ceremony was due tomorrow and then Dean could leave whenever he saw fit.
Not that he wouldn't come back eventually but Jo got all sour and moody every time he left, even if it was just for a weekend to help William out with a job. Ellen had objected to that in the beginning but Dean's sixteenth birthday coincided with a couple of demonic possessions that for more than one hunter at the same time and though Dean was only just a child in the eyes of the law, he was the most trustworthy option they had had. Ellen knew that the kid was good in the business and careful. Now that he was eighteen and had finished high school, Ellen tried to make him consider going to college but Dean shrugged off that idea with a laugh. She knew that he had a variety reasons for not considering it. Dean would not get a full ride with his grades – not that they were all that bad but he was far from a straight-A student – and he had a distinct lack of extracurricular activities to report on any college application. She tried to explain to the kid that they could make it work but he didn't see the need to try, considering that he didn't expect to live the normal white picket-fence life anyway.

Dean had always enjoyed hunting and all the skills needed for it. Jo sometimes frowned upon him training for things like bow hunting but she still made him show her how to handle a bow nonetheless. The girl had hoped that Dean would consider staying at the Roadhouse after graduation, but waiting tables didn't have the same attraction as hunting evil. Of course Dean did wait tables when he was there but it wasn't his life's goal.

The idea of the road trip had been growing ever since his eighteenth birthday. They had had a little party in the Roadhouse for just the family and a few friends. Pastor Jim had been there as well as Caleb and an old friend of John Winchester's who had not been a stranger to the Harvelles either: Bobby Singer. The elder man had connections in the hunters' realm that could not be matched by anyone – the Harvelles themselves included which said something because no one had as many hunters traveling through as them – but he had always had a weak spot for then Winchester boys. 'Family don't end with blood' was the only explanation he cared to give for it and that was how his birthday present to Dean had the boy's breath hitch.

Bobby owned a dump that called itself a garage but was mainly a front for his various hunting activities. Still he had a dozen or more old car wrecks that wouldn't drive but still had some good parts in them. Bobby had brought a Polaroid picture of a dusty black Chevy, an Impala as he explained to them, and Ellen saw Sam's and Dean's eyes widen as they looked at the picture. "Ain't the same car but it's exactly the same model as your dad's ride," Bobby said and Ellen felt a small smile crack her lips. "It doesn't run yet but you can have it if you want. I'd help you fix it up until it's purring like a kitten. Whaddaya say, boy?"

Of course Dean had said yes and had spent most of his spring holidays at Bobby's smoothing out dents and rebuilding the Impala's engine. They were nearly done and from what Dean had told Ellen, after only one more week of work the car should be up and running like the day it had left the factory. When it did Dean would take his baby on the road and that's where the road trip idea had originated. What he would do while cruising from state to state was a completely different question. But Ellen had a fairly good guess.

**2000**

Ellen felt anxious but she wouldn't show it. Of course her daughter would have noticed by now but she'd been cranky and sour-mooded for days and Jo stayed out of her way whenever she was like that. She wiped the counter with more ferocity than necessary and had to keep herself from trying to wash the glasses that stood in the sink knowing that she'd probably end up breaking them. She started humming under her breath trying to keep herself from screaming in frustration. She couldn't take it much longer. William had been gone for two weeks now. He had left on the 26th of December right after Christmas and the last call she had received was on New Year's morning. That meant over a week without a call. He hardly ever went that long without giving them news. It wasn't unheard of but it hadn't happened in years. Not since the cell phone found its way into their household. Ellen was torn between the panicking fear that screamed in the back of her head and the annoyed little voice that told her she was overreacting.

Half an hour and three broken glasses later Ellen was rinsing blood off her hand from the cut she had caught in the shards. She watched it thinning out in the transparent water, growing lighter in shade and disappearing down the drain. That's when she made the decision that there had been enough blood spilled to justify her fears and as soon as she had bandaged the wound, she picked up the phone dialing a number she knew by heart. She had dialed it a lot, especially that first summer, but the calls became less frequent as life claimed their attention and Sam's and Jo's school had started again. She stared at the postcards that were tucked on the board behind the bar next to a few family photos as she listened to the ring on the other end of the line.

A minute and about fifteen rings later there was a click as she was connected to silence on the other end, no greeting. "Dean? It's me, I need your help."