Author's Note :)

So the current title is just a working one (I suck at titles), and it will change in the future.

I do not own any of the characters except for Ella, and as some of Sam and Dean's dialogue is directly from the script, I do not own that either. All of that comes from the wonderful minds of the Supernatural creators. If you like this story, let me know- I'm always looking for feedback. Enjoy! :)

Chapter 1- The Abandoned Daughter

I never knew my real parents.

John Winchester used to tell me that he found me as a baby on the side of the road after a long, hard day of hunting. I was wrapped up in a faded blanket, and I wasn't moving- he thought I was dead at first. But when he picked me up, I opened my eyes and blinked at him sleepily, yawning. He told me later that when my eyes first opened, he almost dropped me- it was like he was looking into his oldest son's eyes. He knew then that he couldn't leave me there.

He brought me back to the run-down hotel where he had been staying, and showed me to his sons Sam and Dean. Sam was only four at the time and didn't know what was happening, but Dean had just turned 8, and at first, he didn't want me. He thought keeping me would be too dangerous, that I would get them all killed. But later that night, when I was whimpering in my makeshift bed and John was dead asleep, Dean was the one who picked me up and comforted me. And when he looked into my eyes, he saw himself.

So I became a Winchester, and grew up in the life. John taught me how to shoot my first gun, and Sam always made sure I carried salt with me. And on the nights when I couldn't sleep, Dean would sing 'Hey Jude' to me, because that's what his mother used to sing to him. We were a family.

But things weren't always great. John was gone a lot, leaving me with Sam and Dean in the motel-of-the-week. And on the nights he did come home, he was often too tired to tell us about his day, and fell asleep on the couch within 10 minutes. When Dean turned 13, he started going on hunts with John, leaving 9-year-old Sam alone with 5-year-old me. We spent most of our time together- Sam taught me how to read, and I taught him my best dance moves (which mainly consisted of lots of jumping around). Sometimes John would refuse to take Dean with him on hunts, so he left him in charge of the two of us. Dean would sulk for a day or two, but once he got over it, we ended up having a lot of fun. He taught me how to play blackjack, using shotgun shells filled with rock salt in place of betting money. That only lasted a month before I got better than him, and he refused to play with me.

We lived like this for years- bouncing from school to school, sleeping in the Impala (and in real beds when we could), and hunting down all the evil things in the world. I got pretty good with a shotgun, and since I was the smallest of the four, I was the best at sneaking around. Sam and Dean learned this the hard way during a trip to Texas when I got bored and decided to short-sheet their beds and hide all their socks in various nooks and crannies of the Impala. I got used to late night drives and staying up reading until I fell asleep on Sam, and singing along to AC/DC at the top of my lungs with Dean. It wasn't a perfect life, but I loved it all the same.

But when I was 14, all of that changed. Sam went off to Stanford and left me with Dean and John. I spent most of my time with Dean- John was often in a bad mood, and we learned to tiptoe around him. On the nights where he would be especially moody, Dean and I would sneak out in the middle of the night. We usually ended up in the nearest bar- there aren't really a lot of places open at 1 in the morning. Dean was the one who gave me my first drink and got me my first fake ID, but I could usually get in without one. By the time I turned 18, I was no longer the skinny little girl who could beat anyone in blackjack and take down someone a head taller than me. I was still slim and athletic, but also pretty curvy- combine that with my long black curly hair and tall frame, and with a little red lipstick and heels, I could easily pass for 21. Dean worried about me being attacked or drugged, but after some random asshole tried to grope me and got knocked out with a single punch, he decided I could take care of myself.

And then John went missing. He had gone on a hunting trip that was only supposed to last a few days, but a week later, we hadn't heard from him, and he wasn't answering his phone. I told Dean it was nothing to worry about- he was probably on a bender somewhere- but Dean insisted that we had to go find him. So we went to go get Sam from Stanford- we needed all the help we could get.