Summary: I was fourteen when I picked up my first book of Supernatural written by Carver Edlund. I was around seventeen when I discovered that the Supernatural was real, leaving me bereft of family or future. I was about eighteen when I discovered that the Winchesters were actually real. Needless to say, I pointed myself squarely in the opposite direction and spent the next seven years avoiding everything associated with them. Too bad it wouldn't work forever.

Ch. 2

If they killed me can they kill me again?

When I slowly came to I realized that I was tied to a cot, a ceiling fan churning above me, the shadow of the spinning blade causing an irritating effect on the lighting of the room as the shadowed were swiftly followed by light. I looked around blearily taking in the symbols on the walls and the floors before looking up to find a pair of storm blue eyes regarding me solemnly from the eye slot in the door. The eyes disappeared and I allowed my head to flop back as I relaxed into my cot. I was tired and felt like I had been hit by a damn truck. I should have gotten the license plate. I giggled at my shitty joke before flopping into an awkward but still comfortable position as the door to my cell opened, the groan of metal filling the air. I heard two sets of footsteps, one entered the room, one outside and a gentle whoosh before another pair could be heard. After a minute a gravelly voice broke the stillness.

"Hey!" I jerked awake again for a moment before groaning, my head sinking into the pillow once more.

"Five more minutes," I muttered. My pillow was jerked away. I just twisted into a comfortable position while ignoring him. After a moment water was dumped on me and I shrieked at the frigid temperature.

"Mothertrucking son of a birch! What the heck do you want?!" I yelled infuriated as I rolled over my head, landing on my feet at the head of the bed despite still being handcuffed to the cot, bringing it up and between me and my assailant. Dean Winchester regarded me with solemn eyes before holding up a knife for me to see. I frowned identifying it as silver. So, he wanted to test me? I bet that had been holy water that he had just dumped on me. He must have already tested me in my sleep, so why was he testing me again? Why was I here? What happened that had caused the Winchester boys to take an interest in me, enough to drag me back to Bobby's panic room and have Castiel watch me until I woke up?

I frowned trying to remember what happened beyond passing out in their car on the way to the hospital. I slowly held out my arm for him to cut and he made the cut quick and clean, swiftly drawing back as I held out my arm for him to see clearly. He looked at Sam who quickly salted me. After a moment they looked to one another before Dean sighed in concession. Sam swiftly removed my cuffs though truthfully, I could have gotten out of them easily. No need giving away my tricks, though, making them warier would have been amusing. They looked tense enough to snap. I rubbed my wrist as I watched them carefully not bothering to speak as they regarded me back. Finally, after about five minutes I raised an eyebrow questioningly. Sam who was being torn apart by the tension began to speak swiftly to answer my unasked question.

"Hey… uh, sorry didn't get your name," he headed. The look I sent him was unimpressed as I pointedly looked at the cot and handcuffs behind me before sending him an expectant look.

You kidnapped me, restrained me and now you are trying to ask for my name? I think we are a little past that. Explanation now, as it roughly translated. He coughed nervously.

"Yeah, so um, do you remember what happened?" he asked.

Which part, my face seemed to say.

"Uh, when we were in the car heading to the hospital?" he asked. Dean frowned at Sam and me.

Meh so-so. Not really, why? My face seemed to say. He coughed, looking a bit nervous.

"Ah, well, you… ah, kinda… died." I froze. I was pretty sure my face was relaying What the fuck?! at that moment.

"I know, that was our reaction," Sam said with a tight grin as Dean shot him an incredulous look.

"She didn't even say anything, Sam," he said reproachfully.

"Dude, it's kinda obvious," Sam muttered as he held out a hand my direction as I continued having a coronary in the corner. Don't mind me.

I made q choking sound as I gestured to myself. Was I still alive?!

"Uh, yeah. We're pretty sure. You died and we turned the car around heading for a good place to burn you. You know, give you a proper hunter's send off. We were almost done setting up the pyre when you sat up with a gasp before passing out again. We tested you before bringing you back, but Dean wanted to test some sigils out on you to see how you would respond. So far, nothing," he said as I frowned deeply still not liking this.

"You know, I expected to die upon meeting the Winchesters, but not coming back to life afterward. Fuuuuuck, now my life is going to get so complicated and fuuuucked uuuup," I groaned, feeling very upset.

"So, you've heard of us?" Dean asked as he shot me a confused but suspicious look.

"I know exactly who you two are," I grumbled as I studied the symbol on the far wall. Looked Enochian. That was probably why the Angel was staying out of the room. It was probably warded to trap angels or repel them. Sam frowned looking confused.

"Why do you think that your life is going to get complicated from just meeting us?" he asked sounded slightly confused before he suddenly perked up with annoyance.

"Hey, wait! Why did you say 'Oh fuck, I knew I should have moved to Mexico' when I said my name? That makes no damn sense," he demanded as I sighed rubbing the back of my neck.

"Because you two only operate in the United States, and if I had been hunting out of the country I wouldn't ever run into you two." The two brothers shot each other suspicious frowns to one another before returning their attention back to me as I sighed tiredly, my drenched shirt causing me to shiver.

"Alright. It was nice knowing you two, it's been real but I am currently freezing my nips off and I'm pretty sure I need a bath. I smell filthy. Now if you will excuse me," I muttered before pushing past the two brothers and Castiel as I moved down the hall.

"You never answered my first question!" Sam called as he moved to follow.

"Hey wait, if you're a hunter, how come Bobby doesn't know you? In fact, I don't think most of the hunters he knows know who you are. Who the hell are you?" Dean challenged as I made it to the top of the stairs.

"That is exactly how I want it Dean in answer to the first question as to why no one knows of me. Now let it go, it isn't Winchester business and I never want it to be." I called as I entered the living room with a shiver. The upstairs was warmer but not by much.

"Why? What do you have against us? You don't know us from Adam and yet you've been avoiding us? How did you even hear of us outside of hunter circles?" Sam demanded, still hot on my heels as I looked for my stuff.

"Oh please, you two barely keep in contact with hunting circles yourselves mostly because your father didn't but also because you only hunt with your brother. I hunt by myself for the same reasons you only trust him to watch your back, the same reason most hunters only trust family," I said as I spotted my bag under the couch and yanked it towards me. Plucking a fresh bra free I fastened it under my shirt before shimmying out of the old one and pulling the new one onto place before yanking my drenched top off, a clean one already in hand and finding its way over my head. Sam coughed and turned away, Dean and Castiel remaining indifferent as I pulled the shirt down.

"So, you're saying you don't trust anyone but family? Or that all your family is dead?" Dean demanded.

"Dean," Sam cautioned his voice a bit tight with strain. It might have been the sudden exposure of skin or it might have been all the scars from earlier. Meh, didn't really matter. I snorted at Dean's question.

"Both." I chucked my wet shirt in a plastic bag before chucking it back in my bag and zipping it up.

"For someone who doesn't associate with anyone, you seem to know a lot, like that shit about our dad never joining hunting groups. Maybe you want to start talking before we assume that your involved with demons," Dean growled, a hand going to the demon-killing knife he had hidden on his belt. I rolled my eyes with a snort.

"You can thank a set of books for that," I muttered as I made towards the front door.

"Hey! Wait, hold on a minute. You've actually read those books? The Supernatural books by Carver Edlund?" Sam demanded as Dean frowned at him, clearly in thought as he connected the dots. I snorted as I grabbed my father's jacket and my hunting bag from beside the door.

"Yeah, it's the only reason I'm still alive, and how I know that everything you two get involved in gets too complicated for my taste. Later boys. Hopefully, we will never meet again," I called before setting out through the front door, my shades and hat now in place. I heard them call for me to wait but by then I had passed behind a junk pile, a spell on my lips. Before Sam or Dean could round the corner I had disappeared, reappearing a couple states away at one of my safe houses. Another spell and I was clean and wearing pajamas. It wasn't the same as a bath but it was good enough for now. I sighed tiredly as I made my way in and kicked off my shoes, going face first into my couch with a pleased groan.

"I missed you, baby," I cooed to the couch as I pet it affectionately, content. Hey, I said that I had gotten pulled into a few bad crowds, I just never said how bad, but don't worry, I wasn't a full-fledged witch or anything. No human sacrifices or conference with demons. I just knew a shit ton of spells and had the power to back it up. Speaking of power, I had to ward the house against angels. It wouldn't do to let him get in, in case the hex bags didn't work and he still found me. Finally done warding I passed out face first on the couch.

...

I woke up to my living room on fire.