Youth

Your mama

AU: I usually don't write author's notes but I just want to encourage you to write some feedback in the comments or tell me some ideas you would like me to write for you but I don't do smut or Castiel/reader or Dean/reader since I'm a Destiel shipper. Could you tell? Anyway enjoy!

***********************************************************Evil. Many people use this word to describe other normal people. Not you. Nope. That word is what you use for the devil and monsters that you hunt.
You remove the knife from the poor man the demon was possessing. He looks you in the eyes as his lose their light. Those blue eyes haunt you still. The light across the street flickers.
"I'm sorry," you whisper to the man. Every article you had found about him said that he was someone you could always turn to. Now they can't; he's dead.
Your black high heels click against the pavement as you walk to the shabby bar. The smell of burgers, pie, and stale beer slams into your nose like a fist.
"What can I get cha?" A woman at the bar asks you. Her hands are busy cleaning a glass with a grimy rag that just seems to be getting dirtier and dirtier.
"Just a beer," you hope there's some that hasn't been spit on/ wiped with that nasty rag.
Bad 70's music flows from the speakers that the owner of the bar had bought for ninety nine cents about a month before, hoping to draw in more customers. It wasn't working out so well.
"Here you go, sweetie," the bartender says and hands you a cold beer. Her ring cuts into your right pinky but you're a hunter so you ignore it.
Two men sit in a booth. One on a computer. He's got hazel eyes and somewhat long hair. By the way he sits he's very tall. The other has hair that reminds you of carmel and his green eyes has a feel of an apple to them. Everything about them screamed Winchester. You knew that look; it was the thing you saw every time you glanced into a mirror.
"Dean and Sam Winchester?" You ask once you've skipped your happy ass over by them, beer in hand.
"Depends on who's asking," Dean says and chews on the top of the pen in his hand. Obviously he doesn't have a clue who you are.
"I'm Y/N Winchester. Aka your sister," you say in a brave and strong voice because you've practiced everyday in every mirror you could find.
"Our sister?" Sam closes the laptop and glares up at you.
"Half sister. I'm Adam's sister. He may have mentioned me."
"Impossible," Dean says and starts eating his burger with humongous bites that makes his cheeks bulge like a chipmunks.
"Sorry but I am your sister and-" you start to grip onto the beer, the materiel crackling under you fingertips.
"What Dean is trying to say is that I'm sorry but we've never heard of you," Sam says politely.
You take a deep breath and take a nice long sip of your beer.
"My last name is Winchester because I am a descendant of the one and only, John Winchester. I have no idea who my mother is and my whole life has been dedicated to hunting and finding you guys but it seems you've never heard of me."
There you go. That's your life story. Nothing to it.
"Well we're a bit busy saving lifes," Dean says with his bacon cheeseburger practically falling out of his mouth.
"I've been looking for you my whole life and you shove me away with 'well we're busy saving lifes'?" You set the beer in front of Sam, knowing it wouldn't drink from it.
"Our dad died about five years ago," Sam says and purposely takes a swig of your beer just to piss you off.
"I was just hoping you could help find my mom," you say sweetly to make sound like it's a question. Truly it wasn't.
"Listen, kiddo if you can't find your mom then maybe she's dead or she left you," Dean says with a bit of leave-us-the-fuck-alone in his voice.
Your bottom lip trembles. John's death doesn't hurt at all. Nopers. It was the fact that your brother had just told you that there was no chance of finding your mom but you had to stay strong.
"Bullshit. That's complete bullshit. My mother is alive and she had to leave me."
A man in a trench coat poofs behind you with messy dark hair and blue eyes that send a shiver down your spine.
"What's the word, Cas?" Dean asks him as you let what the hell just happened sink in.
"Y/N's telling the truth and I know who her birth mother is," Cas says in a deep voice.
Silence fills the bar. Except those stupid, crappy speakers.
"Mystery solved!" Dean smiles as he says it.
Nononononononononononononononon. Your mom couldn't be what Cas was suggesting.
"She's not an angel; John would never fall for an angel," you spit rudely, "no offense but he's not one for that love at first sight shit."
You can almost here Captain America say:
"Language."
"Her name's Chloe," Castiel says and it hits you like a sucker punch.
You didn't know crap about her. She could be a demon for all you knew. But you did know she was something supernatural; you had powers.
The ability to move things with your mind and heal others with a single touch. God, you were such an idiot.
She's A Rebel by Green Day was streaming through those god damn speakers.
"Take me to her," you order.
"I'm afraid that's not possible; she's got angel protection carved into her ribs just like I had done to the Winchesters," Cas says, ruining your thought process.