Hello!

So… it's been a while, and life is insane, and to anyone whose checked back in - wow, and thank you! Life can be crazy busy - and little things get left alone for a while.

I can't promise that updates will be super frequent or consistent, but I'd like to finish this story at the least, at some point. It's be on my mind that I haven't got around to it yet.

Stay safe and well - a work of fiction as always! :)

Chapter 3

Jo peered out of the living room window to the scrapyard. She could see both brothers standing with a young blonde girl who would have been about her height. Her hair was pulled back from her face with a plain black headband, and she adorned faded lightwash denim jeans and a simple white t-shirt. She was pretty, long blonde curls that touched her hips, with dark brown leather boots. Her features were feminine, young. Having sensed that they were being observed, Jo watched as Dean seemed to direct the young girl out of view from the living room windows, Sam following obediently along behind him. Dammit, she'd been caught spying.

She wondered if this sudden appearance had anything to do with Dean's bizarre behaviour. Had he been waiting for this girl to show up at Bobby's? How did she possibly know how to get here? It wasn't as though Singer's Scrapyard was high on the tourist list.

"Mom," Jo called, beckoning Ellen to the kitchen window as she moved across Bobby's house, peering through the window shutters to see if she could see the three people in the yard. Spotting them standing in a circle beside the Impala, Ellen came to her daughter's side, "What's wrong?"

Jo leant backward so that her mother could share her line of sight, gesturing to the blonde standing at Dean's side, "You recognise her?"

Ellen's brow furrowed, looking out the window where her daughter had indicated. She spied the two Winchester boys, and the young woman standing before them. Ellen took her time examining the young girl, the distance not ideal for making a perfect identification. She couldn't have been much older than twenty. Ellen rolled through the catalogue of her memories to try and place who this girl was. When she came up with nothing, she shrugged, "Seems to know the boys. And they haven't ganked her yet. Sure it's nothing."

Jo remained unconvinced. She watched her mother walk from the kitchen. By the time that she had glanced back, once again, the three in the yard were out of her sight. Apparently they were determined not to be caught yet.

"Of course," she muttered.

X - X - X - X - X

Dean was conscious of Sam standing directly behind him. He was however grateful that Millie appeared to have caught his wavelength that revealing the reality of how they had come to know each other was probably not the best course of action. He hadn't revealed any details of Gabriel's timeline to any soul at Bobby's house. And now he was struggling to come up with a plausible scenario for the sudden appearance of this young woman who seemed to know exactly who they were. He reminded himself of the lie they'd suddenly accepted - Dean had helped Millie's Mom during the years that Sam was at College. Sam did not believe at word of it.

"Millie, right? How did you get here?" Sam questioned, watching as her eyes finally darted to meet his. The girl and Dean had been locked in a conspiratorial deathstare since she had arrived.

"Yeah," she finally said. "I walked… I guess."

She wasn't about to explain to Sam that she'd been zapped out of her own timeline and into this one by one such archangel that she knew neither of the brother's was overtly fond of. Way to make a first impression. She'd heard crazier stories. None of which would make any sense to the younger Winchester.

"Hey Sam, can you give us a minute?" Dean asked.

Sam wasn't thrilled about the idea. Lucifer was an ever present danger, and he was conscious of the fact that any new arrival was a possible threat that hadn't yet been thoroughly vetted. Dean hadn't even reached for a knife, had apparently forgotten to douse her in holy water also. The bare minimums when these unexpected arrivals made their unwelcome appearances.

As if sensing Sam's hesitation to leave the two alone, Millie reached into her boot and pulled out her grandfather's knife. She ran it across her hand, grimaching as the blood pulled on her skin.

"Shit," Dean muttered, looking around him for something to stem the flow of blood from her hand. He settled on a rag that he'd used to wipe down the Impala's windscreen, handing it quickly to her. For his part, Sam produced a flask of holy water and handed it to her, watching at she took a sip of the flask before handing it deftly back to him. It was then that he noticed the tattoo on her right inner wrist, the tiny anti-possession tattoo that he and his brother shared. Whoever this girl was, she knew about all of it - the demons, the hunting, the life. Apparently it was very much a part of hers.

"I'm gonna go check on Bobby," Sam said, shooting Dean a suspicious look as he left.

Both Dean and Millie waited until he was well beyond earshot before they both leant back against the side of the Impala.

"I never thought I'd see you again," Mille told him, chancing a glance up at him to find him looking down at her. She swallowed, unsure of what to say. The Dean she knew - her father, was long since dead, and the reunion that she had had with him in Gabriel's timeline had brought a certain closure she hadn't known she'd needed. Moments ago, she and her mother had been standing beside him on that street in Carthage. And then the silence had come.

Dean grimaced, interrupting her train of thought, "Didn't think I'd see you again either."

Millie smirked, staring at Bobby's house. It was no different than she remembered, and she couldn't decide if the scrapyard and the house adorning it had been in better condition in her timeline or this one. Her gaze fell on one of the side windows that she knew leant into the kitchen. She gulped as she watched a blonde figure move into the window of the kitchen. Her mother. A younger version of her. She caught Millie's eye, watching her cautiously.

"She's beautiful," Millie breathed. She had seen pictures of her mother as a young woman. It was an entirely different miracle to feel those pictures come to life. To know that the woman from those photographs of breathing. It was like watching a movie, one where her life was the central plot, her mother having the starring role. In the next moment, another woman moved into the window frame, glaring out at them. Millie's heart skipped. She knew who this was - Ellen, her grandmother, the woman she had never met whose photograph had been displayed in her mother's bedroom.

Dean watched a miriad of emotions play across Millie's face, none of which he was totally sure how to decipher. He caught Ellen and Jo watching them both through the window. Jo, in particular, was focused on him, before shaking her head and not-so-subtely tipping in the direction of the girl standing beside him. He almost smiled. He mouthed to her, Later. This appeared to satisfy her somewhat and they waited until she no longer stood sentry at the window before sighing almost in unison.

"You're not actually going to tell her are you?" Millie asked, incredulously.

Dean smirked, "Yeah, definitely not. She'd kill me."

"Have you told them anything? About Gabriel?"

Dean looked down at Millie who was still staring intently at the window where she had just seen her mother. She appeared almost in a trance, admiring this younger version of her without the chasm of time existing between them, despite the few yards across the scrapyard that would bring them face-to-face.

"Not exactly the easiest conversation to have," Dean answered honestly. "I told them Gabriel was messin' with my head. That was about it."

Millie glanced at her feet, "So they know nothing? There's no storyline I have to try and remember, right?"

"Other than I helped your Mom about six years ago when Sam was at school? Nope, nadda," Dean replied. "Reunion like the freakin' Griswolds. I think we stick as close to the truth as possible. Easier to remember. Without telling them anything."

Dean hadn't thought that acting would ever have to be in his repertoire. Lying to the people he loved, however, he was practically a Stanford-level student when it came to that. He would have blown every scholarship out of the water.

"Agree," Millie nodded, looking nervously at the house, knowing that she was about to have perhaps the strangest introduction of her life.

Dean gestured in front of him and followed her up the stairs and across the porch to the house.

"Welcome to the apocalypse, kid," he mumbled as the screen door swung shut behind him.

X - X - X - X - X

Jo was in the living room when Dean and the new arrival stepped up into the house. Dean's eyes met hers, the blonde beside him slightly taller than Jo herself. She did not quite reach Dean's shoulder. Jo blanched at the almost reverent gaze the girl held her in. As if sensing she had been caught, she quickly refocused on the rest of the party that were slowly trickling into the room. Bobby, behind his desk, Ellen stalking down the hallway and Sam standing with his shoulder leant against the fridge with a suspicious glare on his face. She leant closer to Dean, whispering, "This how you felt when you came to the library at my school?"

"Vaguely," Dean replied. Sure, that arrival in Gabriel's timeline had been one of the strangest experiences of his life, coming face to face with a daughter he never even dreamed he could have in what seemed to be a relatively normal existence. He doubted the same could be said for Millie, who had found herself standing in a room of on-edge hunters who were looking for a fight around every corner.

It was Bobby who broke the silence, "Whose the little lady?"

Millie looked at Dean who looked at her just as curiously. Fantastic, she thought. It appeared that he intended for her to take the lead in this particular introduction.

"I'm Millie Win- Winthrop," she answered quickly. She was not about to call herself a Winchester with these people yet. Primarily because the younger one leaning against the fridge would undoubtedly have some inquisition like questions that Millie wasn't prepared to answer. She glanced at the blonde woman she knew so well in her own timeline, as if seeking some sort of maternal reassurance, unbeknownst to the other woman of course. Jo was standing with her arms crossed, looking the new arrival up and down, as if trying to ascertain whether there was anything about her that she recognised. When she came up with nothing, she gave the young girl a small smile.

"What brings you here?" Bobby asked. "How did you even know where here was?"

Millie opened her mouth to answer, but nothing reasonable came to mind. Instead, it was Dean this time that chimed in and answered, "She's looking for her Mom. I helped her out years ago. Told her that if she ever couldn't get a hold of us, to come 'ere and you'd know where we would be."

Bobby appeared to mull this over. Sam then asked, "You didn't give her your phone number?"

Jo bit the inside of her cheek to hold back a smile. It was uncharacteristically unlike Dean not to pass on his mobile number to a potential contact, those of the female variety even moreso. Gathering by the flash of a knife she had spotted in the girl's boot, she'd grown up around hunters. She was obviously sure enough of herself to walk into a total stranger's house. Ballsy, if nothing else.

"Didn't think we would ever need it. After the first time," Millie added. "Thought it was a 'one-and-done' type scenario."

Ellen had moved further into the room now. She was standing on the opposite side of the room to Jo, allowing Millie, for the first time in her life, to meet her grandmother. Though the older woman would probably never know it, Millie attempted to commit everything about her to memory. She was strong, that was apparent, but there was a maternal gentleness that she carried effortlessly under a roughened exterior. From what her mother had always told her, Ellen was a one-woman powerhouse. She had been a strong, single mother who had run a business and managed to protect her daughter from the darkest parts of the world. Besides the Winchesters and her father, Jo had often said that she had learnt everything she ever knew from Ellen - from how to be a hunter, to sewing holes in too-old jeans, to being a fierce and faithful friend. Loyal to a fault apparently, and wholly devoted to her daughter. Millie realised Ellen and the mother she remembered were all too similar, and she felt her chest tighten wondering where her mother was right now. She would be looking for her - that was without question.

"So what brings you here then? Where's your, Momma now?" Ellen queried.

Right there, Millie thought, looking at Jo. But really, she wasn't. The Jo from this timeline had no idea who the young girl was. Instead, Jo surveyed her cautiously, warily, but she did not appear to have classed Millie as an imminent threat. She swallowed, "I… don't know. I haven't seen her since…"

Ellen glanced at Jo as the young woman trailed off. Jo prompted gently, "Since…?"

She felt Dean's eyes on her. Stick to the truth, as much as possible, she reminded herself. It's easier to remember. She just didn't think it would be this hard to say. Lying to her mother had never been one of Millie' strong suits. She finally met Jo's eye, swallowing, "We were attacked by a bunch of hellhounds. This little town called Carthage… That was the last time I saw her."

This grabbed Sam's attention. Surely this had something to do with Lucifer. It was too coincidental. Hellhounds, this stranger's arrival on Bobby's doorstep, the fact that she clearly had a connection to the hunting background.

"How long ago?" Sam asked, causing the girl to turn around to face him. He watched her expression shift, and something turned in Sam's chest. Something familiar. But he could not, for the life of him, place any memory of this girl to any part of his life.

"A couple of days," Millie answered.

"You're a hunter?" Bobby questioned.

Millie nodded, "Yeah, I suppose so. My parents were- are. Both of them."

It was Sam who asked next, "Who are your parents? We might know them and be able to get in contact with them, help you out a bit."

He was suspicious. Sam's senses were on high alert. It was too convenient. This girl, this hunter, apparently the daughter of fellow hunters, happens to show up on Bobby's doorstep after her mother was attacked by hellhounds? Just as the group was about to go and face Lucifer? To hunt Death? He couldn't believe that was a mere coincidence.

Millie stepped away from Dean to face Sam more properly, noting that of all the people at Bobby's, he was the most wary of her. She'd made a mistake mentioning that she knew him. It had set him right on edge. She knew that he was trying to place her in this timeline when there was a simple fact that could not be ignored - she plainly did not exist yet. And dependent on the next few months, weeks, days - really she needed to look at a calendar to properly place herself in space and time - would determine if she would ever exist at all.

"Daniel and Beth Winthrop," Millie said, almost immediastelt wanting to jab Dean in the ribs with her elbow as he smirked at the names she'd chosen. It was his stupid plan anyway - to meet the entourage without a plan at all. He couldn't judge the names that she came up with for the characters he was forcing her to construct.

"Where do you live? Why were you in Carthage-" Sam continued to question.

"All right, enough with the Spanish inquisition," Dean interrupted. "We're gonna help Millie get home, then we're going to smite the bastard that did this to her and her Mom. Alright?"

Millie watched the look that was exchanged between Sam and Bobby. Then Ellen and Bobby. Ellen and Jo. Jo and Dean, Dean's focus appearing to remain locked on hers until the other woman seemed to bob her head in agreement, quipping, "Add it to the list."

As far as reunions went, Millie thought perhaps being tried for murder might have been easier.