AUTHOR'S NOTE
Chapter 2 as below – final re-written chapter.
From now on, this will be updated content and hopefully updated more regularly!
If you have made it this far, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! :)
IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: PURELY A WORK OF FF. MAY BE A GOOD IDEA TO HAVE READ PREVIOUS FIC (SEE AUTHOR'S NOTE ON CHAPTER 1) AS I WILL BE RE-INTRODUCING SOME OCs FROM THAT PREVIOUS FIC INTO THIS STORY.
CHAPTER 2
If nothing else, the change in temperature of her surroundings informed Millie that she was, like Dorothy, no longer in Kansas. Her skin prickled with awareness and Millie felt the grittiness of the road beneath her fingertips. She groaned, slowly lifting herself up to lean on her elbows, disgusted at the dampness of her skin and the way her head was spinning.
Millie groaned having seriously hoped to have less Dorothy-esque moments in her life.
Millie wracked her brain for memories that could explain her sudden appearance in the middle of the street.
Shit.
The last thing she could recall was huddling beside her mother on a ghostly grey street in Carthage, Missouri. The counterparts beside her including a scheming Angel – Gabriel, a recently resurrected father from an alternate universe – teleporter-Dean, and her mother, Jo, with a snow-white complexion whose tormented eyes watched the grandmother Millie had never got to know devoured before her by hellhounds.
Millie's stomach churned at the thought of those hellhounds and she scrambled quickly to her feet, spinning anxiously, pitifully hoping that she might spot her mother somewhere. But there was no one, not a single soul.
Millie squeezed her eyes shut, futilely hoping that she might wake up in her own bed with the horrid cloud of doom surrounding her nothing more than a nightmare she could quickly move on from.
As she opened her eyes again, nothing had changed. Millie was alone and she had no idea where - or when for that matter - she was. She reached into her pocket and attempted to get service. She gave a disbelieving chuckle as she realized that her iPhone was far too advanced for the current AT&T service, she might be able to access.
With her phone – and thus, Google Maps – entirely useless to her, Millie took a deep breath and steadied herself. She could make out a road sign in the distance and decided that this was her best course of action. At least when examining it, she might be able to orientate herself with where she was.
The first name she recognized with Sioux Falls.
Bobby's. The Junkyard.
Shit, this was not an entirely random universal placing. Her stomach sunk as she realized the Angels were undoubtedly playing with her.
X - X - X - X - X
Millie had followed the road through town. Despite it being years into the future until she would see this place, Millie could trace her way to Bobby's Junkyard. She swallowed the dread in her throat as it came into view.
How exactly was she going to explain who she was?
She realized she should have paid more attention in some of her drama classes.
When in this timeline was she?
Millie was becoming increasingly less enamored with Angels the more they seemed determined to mess with the lives of herself and her family. Really, had Angels nothing better to do?
Particularly Gabriel.
Millie thought she might shoot him when she next had the chance...did shooting Angels even work?
She hoped at least it might leave a bruise and that would have to do.
Millie stopped at the end of the driveway as she spotted the younger-version of Dean – teleporter-Dean – that had visited her in her own timeline and a younger version of the man she recognized as her Uncle Sam. Like teleporter-Dean, he was much younger than the person Millie remembered, much closer to her in age, only a few years older.
Would Dean recognise her?
Considering the way he dropped his tools upon seeing her standing at the end of the driveway and immediately thundering in her direction, Millie gathered that he indeed did.
Dean came to a sudden stop within a few feet of her, sweeping his eyes up and down her body, surprising her when he said, "You know who I am?"
Millie swallowed, nodding, "Yes. Do you know who I am?"
Millie was surprised when Dean closed the distance between them and pulled her against his chest, but promptly she grasped him tightly with an overwhelming sense of security washing over her.
"Gabriel still messing with us?" Dean grumbled.
Millie sighed, pushing away from him, "Well...five seconds ago I was in Carthage...and now I'm here. So... I would say yes."
Dean scrubbed his hand down over his face, "Shit. That was a month ago here."
Millie grimaced. She chanced peeking over his shoulder, noting the obvious confusion and caution on Sam's face. He stood watching them intently, remaining beside the Impala. Sam had not approached them yet, appearing to have found her not so threatening enough to warrant his immediate intervention between her and Dean's interaction.
"Sam?" Millie asked, looking at Sam though directing her question at Dean.
Dean's brow furrowed momentarily, but he quickly turned and nodded in his brother's direction.
Great, he thought.
The last thing Dean needed was another unexpected family reunion. Particularly with family that Sam might potentially never know, and would not remember from their current timeline considering that Millie did not yet exist.
And how exactly was he supposed to explain Millie – who she was and what her existence meant – to Sam?
And then to Bobby? Or worse, Ellen and... Jo?
Dean almost vomited at the thought of Jo discovering the truth. He realized he was in an incredibly dangerous predicament, the Devil currently the last thing on his mind. He was far more concerned about Ellen's reaction if she were to discover Millie's...parentage. Millie's existence pointed to...certain aspects of an intimate relationship with the Harvelle matriarch's only daughter that Dean thought might seriously threaten his safety.
Dean was also sure that Jo would be less than thrilled with such implication also.
"What's going on?" Sam asked.
He had approached them now, Dean having been far too absorbed in his own panicked thoughts to have heard the gravel crunching under Sam's lumbering gait. Dean noted the look of disbelief in Millie's wide eyes. He could also see the thoughts turning over in her head as she tried to conjure up some wildly plausible explanation for her sudden arrival at Bobby's, and how she had come to know Dean.
"Sammy, ugh-" Dean began, finding that he was struggling to produce any probable explanation.
"Sam, hi," Millie interrupted. "Sorry, I don't think we've met before."
Sam's brow furrowed and he examined the young woman in front of him. She was pretty, probably in her early twenties. She was oddly familiar in a way that Sam could not determine.
"I, ugh, know you," Millie continued.
Sam gave her an incredulous look. How exactly was he supposed to respond to that?
"Right..." he mumbled tentatively. "Dean, what-"
"Millie's Mom needed help once on a case I worked years ago. Back when you were in College," Dean answered gruffly before his brother could finish the sentence.
Confused, Sam asked, "What- that was years ago?"
"Grown up a bit since, then," Millie interrupted. "I know."
She was not quick enough to recognise the pleading way that she was looking at Dean as if to simply go along with whatever story they were suddenly concocting.
"What's wrong?" Sam asked.
Millie swallowed, "My Mom. She needs help again. I didn't know where else to go."