Summary: It's been fourtee years since Charissa Singer last sawher father, because she got pregnant at 16, and ran away with her boyfriend. Nowwith her sons Dee and Sammy in toe, what happens when she turns up on his doorstep, with a hell of a lot of baggage.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. If i did, I would be married to Dean by now.

Prologue

Hm... this is probably the second most disgusting place we have ever stayed in," twenty nine year old Charissa Singer pointed out to her son's, who stood in the doorway, looking into the room with incredulous looks. Charissa had put her dark chocolate curls into a ponytail, the moment she had entered the room, and her hazel eyes had seen the floor. She scrunched up her freckled nose, and grimaced at the foul odour. She wore a pair of hip hugging jeans, which she had found in a charity shop, and had miraculously just fitted her hourglass curves, and a tight white t-shirt with a square neckline, and a grey cardigan. Over that, she wore a fitted beige trench coat, that cinched in at the waist.

"Mom, can't we just sleep in the car?" her eldest son, Dean Singer, who was more often called Dee, asked, his dark green eyes roaming over the walls of the motel. Dee had short, naturally spiky brown hair, and light freckles across his nose, which were fading as he got older. He was taller than his brother, standing at 5'9, at the age of fourteen, and he was still growing. HE wore a leather jacket, and a black t-shirt under a plaid flannel shirt. He wore heavy black work boots, and faded denim jeans which were a size too big. He carried a duffel bag over one shoulder, and had his other arm draped over his ten year old brothers shoulders.

Sam Singer, who was always called Sammy, but only by family, was 5'4 in height, and had his mother dark brown curly bangs. He had dark brown eyes, and fresh, tanned skin. His cheeks were still a bit chubby, and he had an adorable puppy dog expression that seemed to be permanently set on his face. Charissa was grateful that he could still fit into his brothers hand me downs, but she knew that one day, and soon, he was just going to grow like a weed. He wore a pair of Dee's old jeans, which were frayed at the bottom, and some old sneakers. He had on a gray shirt, with the top button undone, and one of Dee's old school jackets, with his duffel bag on his back.

"Yeah, mom, it's probably more sanitary to sleep in the car," Sammy groaned, looking around the disgusting, cheap motel room. Charissa rolled her eyes, and pushed her two reluctant boys into the room. She kissed both of their cheeks and Dee pushed her away, frowning, while Sammy hugged her.

"Come on guys, it's one night, and it's not like it's going to kill you!" Charissa said, and Dee looked at her, seriously. He gently thumped the floor with his boot, and thee sound of scuttling filled the room. Sammy's eyes widened, and he clung to Charissa, who listened as bugs crawled under the floorboards, and over the heads.

"Your right, mom, I bet it wont kill us, we'll just be eating COCKROACHES for dinner," Dee snapped, and Charissa gave him an angry look. Sammy looked at him, with bugged out eyes. He could deal with ghosts, demons and blood, but bugs? No, never!

"You listen to me, Dean Singer, and you listen good, I will not have you scaring your brother like that! You know he hates bugs, so quit being irresponsible, and be nice to him. And, your right, we are so getting another room! In fact, how about we just go and stay with grandpa? I mean, we are in South Dakota, and I haven't seen the old man in years," Charissa suggested. She was right, she hadn't seen Bobby in years. Fourteen years, to be exact, when she got pregnant with Dee, and ran away from home with her boyfriend. She hadn't tried to get in touch with him after that, but he had tried with her. Dee looked around the room, disgusted.

"Anywhere is better than this dump," he stated, and Sammy nodded, gripping Dee's hand with a vice-like hold. Charissa rolled her eyes, and looked around as well, grimacing at it. Dee smirked, knowing he was right, and Charissa stuck her tongue out at him.

"I bet you think your so smart," she said dryly, and Dee grinned in that cocky, I-am-so-perfect way of his.

"No, sweetie, I think I'm adorable," he stated, and she rolled her eyes, pushing Sammy and Dee out of the room. They went and got in the car, as she undid her hair, and shook it free. She left the room, and closed the rotting door behind her, satisfied when she heard the click of the lock. She gingerly fingered the picture in her handbag, the one of her, Dean and Sam Winchester, and Bobby. She often thought about Dean and Sam, wondering how they were, and what they were doing, if hey were even still alive. She had named her children after them, because she admired them. Dean had been her idol when she was sixteen, and Sam had been her best friend.

"Hey, Mom! Hurry up!" Dee called from the car, honking the horn. Charissa smiled, and ran over to her 2967 Pontiac Beaumont convertible, getting in the drivers seat. The minute she turned the key in the ignition, Highway to Hell by AC/DC began to blare from the speakers, and Dee howled in happiness. he began to sing along, off-key, and loudly, as Sammy laughed and read his Latin book. Charissa shook her head, and pulled out of the motel parking lot, Dee banging his hands on the dash board, as he attempted to be the lead singer of AC/DC, and failing.

They sped down the highway, Charissa grinning as her hair whipped around her face, and drumming her fingers against the coll leather of the steering wheel. Well, Bo, I'm coming home, she thought, as she put her foot down on the gas peddle, and Dee whooped when the speed picked up. Sammy grinned madly, as his hair began to rise on his head. "Man! I love this car!" Dee yelled, before going back to his singing.

"I'm on the HIGHWAY TO HELL!" he screeched, and Charissa shook her head, grinning happily. Sammy joined in as well, and soon they were all singing, Dee doing air guitar in his seat, and head banging. Charissa grinned, and sped up even more, going over the speed limit. She wanted to get to the Singer Salvage Yard before dinner. She was starving!