Lift Your Head Weary Sinner

98- Visiting "Uncle" Bobby turns into a tsunami of problems (somewhat).

-Age 15-

"I don't care if you got an A on your report card! I wouldn't care if you got a free ride to the best art school in the country! You're completely worthless if you can't hit the center of that target!"

Y/N shook off her father's insults. She was used to them by now. The small family was visiting Bobby, and her father had taken her and her brothers out back to practice shooting handguns. It didn't matter to him what her grades were or what she would rather be doing than hunting, all he cared about was whether or not she could exorcise demons, burn bones, save people, and hunt things. After all, it was the family business. She aimed again, and failed to hit the bulls-eye. Normally, she was an extremely good shot, even rivaling her brothers and father, but her mind was preoccupied with other thoughts. She could see her father shaking his head out of the corner of her eye. Her teacher had given him a letter, recommending her to attend an art academy in South Dakota, near where Bobby lived. And....he tore it up in front of her face and threw it in the fireplace. Raising the gun again, she fired at the target. When she missed the center yet again, John lost it.

"Can't you even hit a dumbass target properly? Your mother would be ashamed! Maybe if you spent less time on those useless drawings of yours, you would actually be able to hit something!"

Sam (age 18) glared at the back of his father's head. "Maybe she doesn't want to become a hunter, Dad? What if she wants to have a normal life for once?"

The senior Winchester whipped around. "And where do you get off telling me how to parent? You and Dean turned out just fine! At least Dean did, anyway, I'm not liking the attitude you're giving me."

"Dad, you gave her a bowie knife for her twelfth birthday! Do you even know what normal twelve year old girls get for their birthdays?"

"It doesn't matter. This is about you going to college, isn't it? Well listen here boy, you aren't going to college, the same way Y/N ain't going to that art school. End of story."

Bobby, who had been listening from the back doorway, sauntered out to where the family was shooting. As the Winchester children went back to target practice, he pulled John aside to speak with him.

"You know, it wouldn't hurt her to spend some time in a stable home. Maybe she could stay here and go to school while you and your boys go out on jobs?"

"Are you saying that the way I raised my kids isn't 'stable'? Because last time I checked, they were my children not yours."

"John, just listen to me. You've been given a gift, and you're doing a horrible job of takin' care of it. Rushing your kids from city to city, never keeping them in the same school more than a few months, do you know what that does to a person? If a plant is transplanted to much it will eventually die."

Dean (age 22) set down his gun, and walked over to where his father and Bobby were talking. He had been listening to their conversation, and he couldn't help but put in his two cents worth. "Dad, I don't want Y/N to grow up and turn into, well someone like me."

"Now my own son is telling me that I'm a bad parent?"

"The boy has a point. Younger siblings often mimic their older sibling's behavior. And no offense son, but you're not the greatest role model." Bobby interjected.

John knew it was true. Dean was only twenty two, but he'd already had his fair share of drinking, parties, and promiscuous activity. If Y/N followed in his footsteps, she would end up either pregnant, in jail, or dead by the age of eighteen. His daughter had been a miracle, and despite what he wanted, deep down he knew that the girl would be better off in Bobby's hands than his. He cared for his children, but they could be a burden and get in the way of hunting. This way he'd be able to pawn off the one that was the most trouble. Girls were such a pain, and Y/N was the youngest, the baby of the family, the one that had to be protected.

"Dean, go get Sam and Y/N. We're leaving."

Dean walked off shaking his head. When he returned, he had Sam and Y/N trailing behind him.

John nodded. "Dean and Sam, go pack your things. Y/N is staying here with Bobby to go to that damned art school."

---

Sam and Dean were all packed and waiting in the car while Y/N said her final goodbyes to John.

"I-I love you daddy." She said, knowing that she wouldn't see him again for a long time.

"Stop, you're to old to be calling me that." John frowned at his youngest child.

"Yes sir."

With that, he turned, got into the Impala, and drove off.

---

Y/N sat at her desk, head in her hands. What had she done? What had made her father want to abandon her, to leave her behind? He didn't just let her stay and go to that art school out of the goodness of his heart. He probably thought she was a burden, always getting in the way. Just once couldn't he be proud of her? Nothing she did was ever good enough to please him. She knew Sam felt the same way, he had always worked his hardest in school, something that John didn't care about. But Dean... Dad loved Dean. His good little soldier, devoted to the family business. Dad didn't care about anything but revenge on the demon that killed their mother. Y/N wished with all her heart that she was still alive. She loved and looked up to her older brothers, but she wished she had a mother, someone to talk to. She'd freaking gotten the "sex talk" from Dean at one in the morning in the middle of a Walmart when she was ten! All she wanted right now was a hug, a hug from Sam and Dean and....and Dad.