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Supernatural Fan Fic Series.
This is a work in progress
Disclaimer: The Winchester brothers do not belong to me, nor does Jo Harvelle, any of the other Harvelle's, or any other characters which I use in this fic. I do not intend on making a profit with the characters, and I have done this purely for entertainment. All characters not from Supernatural are my own.
Main Characters:
Jensen Ackles as Dean Winchester
Jared Padalecki as Sam Winchester
Alona Tal as Jo Harvelle
1967 Chevy Impala as itself
Recurring Characters:
Jeffery Dean Morgan as John Winchester
Samantha Smith as Mary Winchester
Samantha Ferris as Ellen Harvelle
Rating: PG-13 = Parents strongly cautioned. (Some material may be inappropriate for children under 13) Warning: This fic contains Adult Material that may be unsuitable for under 15's.
Written by: Ahm Shere (with some help from Cordelia_Chase)
Summary: This fan fic series is based on and is about Supernatural. It is my own series, which I have developed from the hit TV show. Some story lines are based on Movies and other TV shows. I will credit when it comes to it.
This is my own version of Season 1. Forget anything you have watched on Supernatural. This is what really happened! Jo comes in at the Pilot, and Dean and Sam's father is dead already. They are carrying on his work. Jo tags along on the hunting trip. There is chemistry between Dean and Jo. Deal with it!
This is in ?Story' form. Deal with that too!
Enjoy!
Episode 1.01
Pilot
22 years ago. Lawrence, Kansas.
It was warm outside. Although it was November, it was a warm night. Mary Winchester carried her oldest son, Dean, four, into his little brothers room, who was exactly 6 months old today. Mary switched on the light and put Dean down.
?Say goodnight to your brother Dean' she said, smiling.
Dean ran over to the cot where Sam was lying, still awake. His little hands were up in the air and they were going around in little circles. Dean leant over the cot and kissed his forehead.
?Goodnight Sammy!'
Mary then took hold of Dean's hand, she too leant over the cot, kissed Sam's forehead, and said goodnight. John Winchester stood at the Nursery Door.
?Dean!'
?Daddy!' Dean yelled, running over to John and jumping up into his arms.
?How's my little buddy? Are you ready to go to bed?'
?Yes Daddy!'
John carried Dean out of Sam's room and tucked him into bed. He then went downstairs to watch TV. Mary, on the other hand, had gone to bed. About an hour later, Mary had woken up. She had a funny feeling. She looked at the empty space beside her. John still hasn't come to bed she thought. She got up. She walked over to Sam's room, and opened the door. John was standing over Sam.
?Does he need his bottle?' Mary asked him.
?Shh' came the reply.
?OK.' Mary said. She figured that she would get it, since Sam usually is always hungry. As she walked onto the landing, the light began to flicker. She slowly walked over to it and tapped it once. Tapped it twice. She tapped it a third time, and it stopped flickering. She shook her head and walked downstairs. The TV was on. Mary froze in terror. There, sleeping on the couch in front of the TV was John. So who was that in Sam's room? She had begun to think. She ran upstairs and into the nursery. There was a bloodcurdling scream which awoke John Winchester downstairs.
?Mary?!' he yelled. He ran upstairs to the nursery, where everything was peaceful. Was I just dreaming? he thought. He walked over to the cot and saw Sam who was awake. He smiled and stroked Sam's cheek.
?Hey Sammy?' he began. But his words stopped short when a drop of red liquid fell onto Sam's pillow. John bent closer to see what it was. Another drop followed, and another. John looked up to the ceiling and was horrified. There, on the ceiling, was Mary Winchester, her stomach was cut, and her white nightgown was covered in blood. Her mouth was open, and she was pale. Then suddenly, she burst into fire.
?Mary! No! Mary!' John yelled frantically. He grabbed Sam, who was now crying, and ran to the hallway. Dean was standing there, not knowing what was going on. John handed Sam to Dean and said, ?Take Sam outside! Run. Don't look back! Go, Dean, go!' Although confused, Dean done as his father asked. John returned to the nursery, which was now swallowed in hot orange and red flames. ?MARY! MARY!'' John yelled, tears trickling down his face. He couldn't see Mary anywhere.
Outside, Dean had just run onto the lawn, still carrying Sam in his arms, when John picked up Dean and ran, just as the house exploded, and the whole house was consumed in fire.
Fire Engines had been called to the scene by neighbors. John sat on the hood of the 1967 Chevy Impala, while Dean snuggled into his father, and Sam was asleep in John's arms. Police were taking questions. John answered as best as he could and he was allowed to go. He couldn't believe what had happened. He had lost his wife, he had lost his home, and he had nearly lost Dean and Sam. He swore there and then, to protect his sons. He would do whatever it takes?
Twenty Years Later, New York City, New York
It had been twenty years since John had lost his wife, and Dean and Sam had lost their mother. Dean, now 24, and Sam, 20, had gone on a hunting trip with their father. For as long as they could remember, their dad had hunted demons and other Supernatural creatures. John had taught Dean and Sam well. Dean had been told to keep Sam safe in the first Motel in the phonebook, as always. Sam was pacing in the motel room, as Dean sat on the bed, watching Sam pace. Sam turned to Dean.
?I'm worried. Dad's been gone for a long time, Dean.' Sam said, quietly.
?Dad will be fine. Now sit down, grab a beer and relax, dude. You're making me nauseous.'
Sam stopped in his tracks and turned to Dean. ?Nauseous is a bit big for your vocabulary Dean. Where did you learn a big word like that?'
?TV,' Dean said, simply. ?You learn a lot from it. Now, sit.'
Sam sat on the bed, but he was agitated. His father had never been gone this long without calling. Suddenly, Dean's cell phone rang. Dean picked up.
?Hello? Oh hey Dad?' he said, emphasizing the word Dad, mainly for Sam's benefit. Sam was such a worrier. ?Dad?? What's wrong?' Dean asked, anxiously. He sat upright, phone pressed to his ear. ?Dad??' The line went dead. Dean looked nervously over at Sam, then grabbed his half packed duffle bag and swung it over his shoulder.
Sam watched, not knowing what to do. ?Dean? What was it? What's the matter?' he asked, as Dean had thrown his bag over to him, which Sam caught easily. Sam stood up.
?It's Dad?he's in trouble. He gave me an address. I know where he is. We'd better hurry. He didn't sound too good.' Dean ran outside and hopped into the Impala, where he waited impatiently for Sam to lock the door. When Sam was in the car, he sped off, towards the address his father had given him. They arrived at their destination, outside some apartments. Dean quickly went to the boot and pulled out a couple of guns, one filled with Rock Salt, the other, silver bullets. Dean ran through the door and ran up the stairs to the number in which John had told them to go. Dean kicked down the door. What he saw made him stop in his tracks.
Unaware that Dean had suddenly stopped, Sam had run straight into Dean. They both fell onto the floor, and Sam looked up. He had not seen what was there when he had ran into Dean, but he looked at the floor where John lay, motionless. He then looked up at the tall figure standing over John. Sam let out a loud gasp. The figure slowly turned around. What Dean and Sam saw next shocked them. The figure had bright yellow eyes. Dean aimed the gun with Rock Salt and pointed it at the figure. It didn't seem to have any effect, but the figure slowly backed away from the body, and then it vanished.
Sam was the first to reach his Father. He was barely breathing. It didn't seem like there was much time for him left. Dean joined his brother by John's side. He looked at his father; there wasn't a scratch on him.
John's eyes flickered open and he saw the blurry outline of his youngest son. ?S?Sammy?' spluttered, and then Dean came over behind Sam. ?D?..Dean?' He was gasping for air now, each breath was a struggle, a fight for life in its own right and John could feel his life slipping from him rapidly. He didn't want to go, to leave his boys all alone, but he knew he had no choice. This was inevitable. His time was up, he had met his maker, and he had gone out how he always wanted to, fighting. Dean and Sam were string boys, good hunters, he knew he had taught them well, he had given them all the skills they needed in this life. But in reality this wasn't the life he would have chosen for either of them. He wished Sam could have gone to school, he wished Dean could have had his own home, a good job?a stable relationship even?but John knowing Dean like he did?that would never happen. John knew as well as anyone, nothing in this life ever worked out as you wanted it too. John also he knew his sons would need help. Help with the hunts. The yellow eyed demon was still at large. Johns one regret was not killing the bastard that robbed him of his beautiful wife and the ?normal' life his family had deserved. His words came out jumbled. ?Elle?road? ? ?get?.' John could say no more. He had no more fight left in him. Speaking only made him feel like he was dying quicker. He hoped that Dean would be able to figure it out. He reached out his hands, to hold them one last time. But his hands never made it to theirs. John's eyes slowly closed, and gravity took over, letting his hands fall lifelessly beside his body.
Present Day, Stanford, California
After John had been killed, Sam swore never to hunt again. Leaving Dean, he had set off to Stanford, CA, so he could go to school, and actually have a future. All was well. He had a gorgeous girlfriend, Jess, and he had passed his LSATs and was going to have an interview for Law School. His future was clear and bright. Sam was lying in his room where he lived with Jess. Jess was in the shower and Sam found himself thinking about Dean and his father.
He had not spoken to Dean in two years. They had hunted for a year after their father had died, and Sam decided he no longer wanted to hunt. They were getting nowhere with the message John had given them. The last time they spoke, they got into a big argument. Dean had thought that they both should carry on hunting, find out what their Father had tried to tell them and to save innocent people. Sam just wanted to be normal. Be a lawyer. Maybe get married, have a couple of kids. Let them have a normal happy childhood which he never had.
He missed Dean. He missed not having a brother, but he did not want to hunt anymore. He was tired of losing people that he loved. He was tired of risking his own life. So he set off for Stanford. Dean didn't follow. They never spoke again.
Sam stood up and looked at the bathroom door. He heard the shower turn off. Jess came out with a towel wrapped around her. Sam smiled. ?Hey?' he said soothingly. He walked over to her and kissed her on her forehead. He needed air. Thinking about his father and Dean made him feel queasy. ?I'm just going to step outside for a bit. I'm not feeling to good,' he said.
?Are you OK?' Jess asked worryingly.
?Yeah?just feeling a bit dizzy, you know? Something that can be fixed with air,' he said teasingly. He turned to leave, leaving Jess standing in the middle of the room.
Sam opened the door and felt the cool September night breeze blow through his hair and across his face. He leaned against the wall and breathed in deeply. Then he straightened up. He could have sworn that he heard something. He pushed himself against the wall with his shoulders and walked forwards. Sam looked left and right, keeping his ears open for whoever?or whatever could be there. He then sensed that someone was behind him. His fists curled up and he swung his arm around him straight towards the stranger?
Dean needed help. He could no longer hunt alone and he needed Sam. He also thought he knew what his father had tried to tell them both two years ago. He had tracked Sam down at Stanford University. It wasn't hard. Dean was a professional. He had parked his Impala out of sight and had begun to walk up to Sam's apartment when he saw him come out. He didn't know what to do. The last time he had talked to Sam they argued. Badly. Dean took a deep breath and headed towards Sam. He must have made a noise, as Sam instantly straightened himself and looked for something. Sam didn't look in his direction. He walked quietly behind Sam. He looked down at his fists?which were curled up ready to have a big punching party. As Sam swung his arms around, Dean ducked and tackled Sam. Sam was now on the floor, and Dean sat on top of Sam. He smiled.
?Sammy, chill,' he said mischievously. ?What, did you think there was a ghost?'
?Dean??' Sam said, speechless. He gazed up at his brother for a moment or two, realizing how little he had changed. He then found his voice. ?Get off me.'
Dean stood up off Sam and helped him up. Sam brushed himself down.
?What are you doing here?' he asked accusingly. ?And it's Sam.'
?Whatever,' he said. ?I just thought maybe I'd come to Stanford University?check out the College life?'
?Dean, you hate school. You would never go to a university. What do you want?'
Dean looked Sam right in the eyes. ?Well, I think I've finally worked out what Dad tried to tell us two years ago. I think it's important that we go. Together?'
Sam shook his head, not believing what he was hearing. ?You came all this way?to get me to go?where exactly?'
?Harvelle's Roadhouse?it's a hunters' pub ran by Ellen Harvelle. I did some digging, and Dad and Ellen knew each other. This is who Dad wanted us to go and see?'
?No, Dean,' Sam said firmly. ?I'm not going with you. I swore to give up hunting when Dad died. Believe it or not, Dean, I have a life. A good life?a safe life. I have a fantastic girlfriend?I have an interview for Law School on Monday; there is no way I'm missing that. Dude, you can't just sneak up on me in the middle of the night, tackle me to the floor and expect me to go with you to?Harelle's or whatever.'
Dean eyed Sam for a minute before correcting him. ?That would be?Harvelle?and Sammy?'
?Sam?' Sam interrupted.
?Sammy,' Dean said again, with more emphasis, ?this is something that Dad wanted us to do?together. It was his dying wish. OK, so he didn't spell it out for us, but he expected us to do this for him. There is a reason why he gave us the message?obviously this Ellen woman can help us. Now are you going to come quietly, or am I going to have to drag your ass to the Impala kicking and screaming?' he asked, sarcastically.
Sam stared at Dean for a minute or two, before looking up at his apartment window. He sighed. ?Will we be back for Monday?because I'm not going to miss this interview?'
Dean nodded. ?Sure,' he shrugged.
Sam shook his head. ?Bring the Impala around...I'll go get some clothes. But I'm only doing this for Dad?and dude?I really need to be back for Monday.'
?We will be?' Dean said smiling to himself. He walked around the corner, and sighed. ?Good to see you again, Sammy.' He said to himself.