AN: So this is my new Supernatural fanfiction that I've been working on. Its an OC story and I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or plot lines in this story. All writes to the writers and creators of Supernatural.

Dean Winchester wasn't known for being the brains of the family. He tended to leave all that to his younger brother. After all, Sam had attended Stanford University and been presumed the one with all the intelligence from a young age. Dean didn't know much about Math or Physics or the exact area of Europe, but if there was one thing he did know, it was how to hunt. Dean's mind wasn't filled with facts he had deemed useless, but was crammed full with knowledge of the supernatural, from exorcisms to weapons that could kill countless monsters he had encountered almost all of his life. He was a sharp, quick thinker with catlike reflexes and to most people who knew him, the real him, he was one of the smartest people they had ever met.

Which was why, as the elder Winchester sat on the edge of a queen sized in the dingy motel room, he was irritated that he couldn't figure out what was going on in the death ridden town they were staying in. When he and Sam had scouted out the house of the first victim, they had been convinced it was a ghost that had killed the young mother-of-two. All the signs had pointed that way. EMF had been through the roof, the husband had reported cold spots over the last few weeks and Sam had even come across an article from the 1960s of a woman who was brutally murdered in that same house. The two brothers hadn't hesitated to locate the woman's corpse and salt and burn the bones. It was safe to say that after that, Dean was ready to leave the small town in Wyoming and find another case. It came as a surprise the next day to get a call from the county Sheriff who informed them that another person had been found dead in the same house, this time a deputy of the Sheriff's department.

Sam and Dean had gone straight down to the morgue to view the body, posing as FBI agents of course, and concluded that something wasn't right, although as of yet, they didn't know what. The body of Deputy Carter did not display the classic signs of a ghost attack, far from it in fact. There were chunks of flesh missing, not the mention the internal organs looked like they had been put through a blender.

"Ever heard of a ghost eating someone to death?" Sam had asked his brother. Dean had replied with an angry and confused grunt before trying to come up with another suggestion.

"Looks more like a Wendigo," Dean had proposed, but he knew that it was an unlikely idea.

So the Winchester's sat in the motel room, Sam researching as much as he could on his laptop whilst Dean leafed through his father's journal looking for answers. They were both reviewing the situation, trying to give fresh perspectives on it. The suggestion that it could just be a coincidence that a ghost and something else lurked in the same house and each had made a kill within a week of each other was not something Dean wanted to accept, nor did he believe he could. Somehow, they must have been wrong about the ghost. EMF could be explained by power lines, but what about the cold spots?

"Something about this case stinks," Dean muttered to himself as he closed the journal, not managing to find anything useful. He stood up from his place on the bed and grabbed his leather jacket lying next to him. "I'm gonna go get some grub, you want anything?" he asked his brother.

"No thanks," Sam replied without looking up. Dean nodded before walking over to the door and swinging it open. He would have bumped into her if she hadn't jolted so much in surprise. Before him stood a woman, no, a girl dressed in ripped skinny jeans and an oversized sweater. Her blonde hair was matted and windswept and a small rucksack clung to her back. Small beads of rain gripped her form as it started to spit. She had been poised by the door, as if ready to knock when Dean had discovered her. Now, she looked up at the eldest Winchester, hugging herself with her arms as she shivered in the rain. She looked apprehensive, but in the same way, determined.

"Winchester, right?" the girl said hurriedly. "John's kid?" Dean was taken aback by the way she spoke with such recollection. He was now beginning to find her familiar, but the memory was distant and he wondered if it existed at all. It also amused him how she had referred to him as a kid when she was clearly still one herself.

"Who's asking?" Dean asked smoothly, raising an eyebrow at the girl who seemed to know him.

"I asked you first," she said.

"Yeah? Well unfortunately I don't give out trust for free, so spill," he said, jaw clenching as he stared down at the girl.

"Dean, who's at the door?" the pair heard Sam shout from the table in the motel room. He was hastily standing up and making his way to the door. Dean stood aside for his brother to get through, all the while keeping his eyes trained on the strange girl. "What's going on?" Sam said as he made it to the door, looking first to his brother before glancing down to the girl stood in their doorstep.

"Can I come in?" she said, almost pleading. She could feel the rain starting to soak through her jumper and cloak her skin. She pushed past the brother's before they could reply and made her way into the motel room, arms crossed as she positioned herself by the wall.

She could hear the pair muttering to each other, mainly Dean, the eldest, cussing and telling Sam that they should throw her back out into the rain. She guessed it was because he didn't like the fact that she knew them when they, seemingly, didn't know her. They came over, Sam perching himself in front of her on the end of the bed and Dean standing to the left, mimicking her pose of arms crossed, only his features where schooled much more harshly than hers. It was clear he didn't like her already.

They watched her expectantly and the girl realised they were waiting for her to explain herself.

"I was told you were hunters," she said. Dean's eyes narrowed.

"By who?"

"Can you help me?" she asked, her eyes focusing on Sam rather than his brother. Dean snapped.

"Why don't you stop asking questions and start answering some!"

"Dean,' Sam warned before turning back to the girl. "Why do you need our help?" Sam asked. The girl noted how he seemed more caring than his brother, or maybe was just acting that way.

"For a case," she replied.

"A case?" Dean asked sceptically. "How old are you?" She glared at him.

"Old enough."

"Is that right?" Dean said cockily. She didn't like the way he seemed to mock her. "Well sorry sweetheart, but we're on a case right now. Get in line."

"Dean,' Sam warned again a little louder. "Tell us about the case." She sighed and cleared her throat. She knew this case inside out having been working on it for far too long by herself.

"Nineteen-year-old male went missing from his motel room one night. Other guests heard him shout for help and called the cops, but by the time they arrived there was no sign of him."

"What makes you think there's a case?" Sam asked, genuinely curious as to why this girl would go to so much trouble over what seemed like an abduction.

"They found blood in the room. Lots," she paused, "and sulphur."

"Oh great," Dean said sarcastically, "another demon."

"Were there any witnesses?" Sam asked, ignoring his brother's comment. "Anyone hear or see anything besides him shouting for help?"

"His eleven-year-old sister had locked herself in the bathroom," she said.

"Well that's probably the place to start. She probably knows…"

"She doesn't know anything," the girl said, cutting Sam off. He frowned at her but still spoke softly.

"How can you be sure?" he questioned. She averted her eyes away from the younger Winchester's and fiddled with the sleeve of her sweater.

"I just am." Sam stared at her quizzically for a moment before letting it go. Sam realised then that they had yet to learn the girls name or how she even knew they existed. It was clear she knew something of their father and Sam wondered if she might have information on his location.

"We are John Winchester's sons," Sam said before extending a hand to the girl. "I'm Sam." The girl stared at the outstretched hand, unsure whether or not she should take it. Tentatively, she unfolded and arm and placed her hand in Sam's.

"Allison," she said quietly. Sam noted how cold her hand felt as he shook it. She must have been standing out in the rain for a long time.

"It's good to meet you, Allison," Sam said kindly, trying to make the girl feel more relaxed. His brother was not helping the situation. "That's Dean." Sam considered his next question, wanting to know the answer but worried he might not be able to get it. "How do you know our dad?"

"I don't," she said. "Not really. I've only met him a couple of times."

"Then how did you get our names?" Dean asked.

"Bobby Singer gave them to me," she replied. "You guys know him, right?" Dean sighed before nodding.

"Yeah, we know Bobby," Dean said. "So what, you just figured you'd show up and we'd just agree to take the case?"

"I know you're looking for your father," Allison said. "And he's looking for a demon. I am too. I just figured we could work together."

"Why?" Dean asked, growing irritated. "Because you think you're a hunter? You're a kid!" Allison's face fell blank. She hated it when people called her a kid. She knew she was only sixteen but she knew more about the supernatural than most people would ever know in their life time. She wasn't going to give up, even if the Winchester's wouldn't help her. She had to solve the case, and she didn't care what it took.

Sensing the clear tension between the two, Sam spoke up, trying to disperse the icy atmosphere. "It's getting late. Allison, why don't we go see we can get you a room?" After a moment, the girl nodded, and followed Sam out of the room.

Sam was up early that morning, straight onto his computer to research anything he could about the mysterious girl's case. He thought it odd that a sixteen-year-old could be pursuing a case so seriously and needed to find out more. Dean sat across from him, tucking into a breakfast burger he had picked up from a diner. The two had yet to see Allison that morning, casing stress for Sam and relief from Dean.

"19-year-old male vanishes from motel room. Presumed dead," Sam read out loud, shifting his laptop around so Dean could see. "Had to do some serious digging to find it, but here it is."

"Really?" Dean asked as he skimmed over the news article. "Why was it so hard to find."

"Look at the date," Sam said. Dean's eyes narrowed at the article as he searched for the information he was looking for.

"December 21st," he read, frowning when he saw the year. "1999?" Sam nodded as Dean looked up at him, his expression confused. "That doesn't make sense," Dean said. "Allison would only have been…" he trailed off, realisation hitting him.

"Eleven," Sam finished for him.

"Crap," Dean said, putting his burger down. "It's her fricking brother? No wonder she wants to solve the case so bad."

"What do you think we should do?" Sam asked, feeling concerned for the girl who had lost her brother over five years ago.

"I think we should call Bobby for starters," Dean said as if it was obvious. "I mean, he obviously knows her somehow. And he got us into this mess."

"Yeah, you're right," Sam agreed. "I'll do it now." Dean nodded and Sam took out his phone, dialling the hunter's number immediately as he entered the hallway.

"Yeah?" the voice of Bobby Singer greeted down the phone in a gruff tone.

"Bobby, hey," Sam said. "It's Sam, Sam Winchester."

"Sam," Bobby replied in recognition. "It's been a while." Sam smiled.

"Too long." He paused wondering how to approach the topic of the mysterious girl who had showed up at their motel room. In the end, he didn't have to. Bobby spoke up first.

"You wouldn't happen to have come across a 16-year-old masquerading as a hunter, would you?" Bobby asked, almost dreading the answer.

"Yeah, she's here," Sam said. "She wants our help on a case."

"Dammit, Al," Bobby mumbled under his breath. "Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's okay," Sam confirmed. "You know her well?" Bobby laughed.

"Pretty well considering she's been living with me for over five years?" Bobby said. "Practically raised the kid."

"Five years?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Yep," Bobby replied. "Ever since her brother went missing."

"What about her parents?" Sam asked.

"No, they've been outta the picture a long time," Bobby replied.

"So what? You took her in just like that?" Sam asked.

"Her old man was a great friend," Bobby said. "And a great hunter at that."

"A hunter?" Sam asked. Bobby sighed.

"You really have no idea who she is, do ya?" Bobby said. The silence on Sam's end answered his question for him. "Let me give you a hint, her last name begins with a 'V'."

"Are you serious?" Sam almost yelled down the phone. "She's Allison Venator? As in-."

"The Venators," Bobby filled in. "Her family's been hunting for generations."

"Until about 12 years ago," Sam said. "It's like they just fell off the grid."

"Well one of em's been sleeping in my spare room for almost half that," Bobby sighed.

"So what happened? Why'd she come and find me and Dean?" Sam asked.

"We got in an argument," Bobby said with a deflated sigh. "I told her I wouldn't help her with her brother's case. She told me she'd find someone who will."

"Why wouldn't you help her?" Sam asked.

"Don't get me wrong, Sam, I'm all for being optimistic. But he's been gone for over five years," Bobby said and Sam could have sworn he heard his voice crack. "I'm not gonna give her false hope that she'll find him."

"So you don't think Dean and I should take the case?" Sam asked.

"Honestly, it's up to you. I doubt anyone would be able to talk her out of it," Bobby said, almost defeatedly.

"She ever hunted before?" Sam asked.

"I know she did a bit with her brother back in the day, and she's salted and burned a few corpses. Nothing big," Bobby said. "She's a hell of a shot though." Sam smiled at the hint of proudness in Bobby's voice. It was clear he cared about her a lot.

"I'll keep that in mind," Sam said with a chuckle. "Speak to you soon."

"Good luck, Sam," Bobby said finally before hanging up the phone. Sam walked back into the motel room. Once he was there, he filled Dean in on his conversation with Bobby. He was as surprised as Sam had been to discover that Allison was a Venator.

"She really been living with him all this time and we had no idea?" Dean asked.

"Yep," Sam replied, slumping into a chair by the table and running a hand over his face. He felt exhausted.

"So what happened?" Dean asked. "He refused to help so she took off?"

"Pretty much," Sam said. "He thinks there's no hope in finding her brother. And with regards to us taking the case, he says we can decide." Dean scoffed.

Yeah, well that's not happening," he said.

"What?" Sam asked in surprise. "You don't think we should take the case?"

"No Sam, of course not," Dean replied.

"Why?"

"Because if we take the case, she's gonna wanna stick around for it. And you know what's gonna happen then?" Dean asked, raising his voice. "She's gonna end up dead. And that blood will be on our hands."

"But Dean -."

"I don't need someone else to look after," Dean said. Sam was a little taken aback my Dean's statement. Did Dean really see him as such a burden?

"Okay," Sam said. "I uh, I'm gonna go see if she's okay." He left the room without another word, making his way down the corridor to the room Allison had slept in the night before. He knocked on the door and when there was no reply, he swung the door open.

Sam walked into the motel room, dreading the conversation he was about to have. He knew it was unlikely that Dean would back down and take the girls case, let alone let her tag along for it. He knew Dean thought the whole idea was ridiculous. Sam himself wasn't sure that he didn't either.

He found the girl sitting cross legged on the edge of the bed, photograph in her hand. As Sam stepped closer to her, he could see two figures: one a much younger version of the girl before him, no more than 4 or 5 years of age. The other was older, though still didn't look to be a teenager yet. He held a similarly giggly expression on his face as the girl and apart from the much darker hair, the resemblance was startling. Same nose, same smile, same clear blue eyes.

"That's a cute picture," Sam said softly as he stood at the edge of the bed. Allison smiled small without looking up, her thumb grazing over her brother's face on the paper.

"What's his name?" Sam felt silly asking the question, realising he probably should have asked sooner.

"Tyler," Allison replied, continuing to look at the photograph fondly. Sam remained silent for a long moment, debating in his head whether he should just forget about what he wanted to say and leave her alone. He sighed inwardly, realising that wasn't an option.

"Allison uh, about your brother." He paused, scratching the back of his head with his right hand. Allison looked away from the picture for the first time, turning her attention to Sam. She met his eyes, looking expectantly at him. Sam noticed her eyes had grown darker since the photo had been taken.

"Look, I know this is gonna be hard to hear," he took a moment, considering his words. "Tyler's been missing for over five years," he said, sitting himself down on the bed beside her. She frowned at him, still not understanding what he was trying to say. "Allison, I know you miss your brother but the likelihood of us finding him alive is-."

"I know," Allison said, cutting Sam off. He was taken aback by her words, having expected her to argue with him.

"You know?"

"I'm not some teary-eyed child clinging on to false hope, Sam. I know I'm not getting Tyler back." She took a breath, folding the photograph in half and slipping it into the pocket of her jacket. "I just…I just wanna know what happened to him. And I will, whatever it takes," she said, her voice determined. "Whether you and Dean choose to help me or not." Sam stared at her.

"I'm gonna find the bastard that hurt my family," Allison said. Her voice wasn't raised, but it held grief, anger and vengeance, a combination of emotions Sam knew all too well. "And when I do, I'm not just gonna send him back to hell." She paused, as if to make her words seem even more sincere. "I'm gonna erase him from the fucking universe."

AN: Hope you liked it, let me know what you thought. Much love x