Supernatural Short Story's: Completed

Little Ms. Winchester

What if your father abandoned you? Your brothers forgot you, you were all alone?

What would you do if you were raised by a demon who wanted nothing more than for the world to be his, but then he would settle for a Winchester.

He settled for me.

Raised by the king of Demons, Crowley himself.

But the funny thing is I never met my family, not really, till I was hunted down by them, and man was that a fun day.

.........................

"You'll never get a single word out of me!!" I hissed, Dean and Sam walking circles around the chair I was tied too. My wrists were bleeding, my cheek throbbed, sickly warm blood soaked my shirt where the gashes dripped.

My father was gone, and he decided to leave me to deal with those jokers.

"Who are you?" Dean questioned, eyes like fire as Sam held in the anger boiling in his throat.

Quite frankly I felt it too, it swarmed and retched like it was alive but I bit my tongue, knowing the consequences of telling them anything.

"Bite me Squirrel." I replied, spitting a bit of copper tasting blood onto his shoes.

"You want to play the hard way, hu bitch?" He questioned, raising the demon knife up, letting it glint in the lamp light.

Somehow, they still though I was a demon, it made me laugh.

"Go ahead, waste your time, but Crowley should be back soon and if he finds something happened too me-!" I began to ramble, my voice cut short by the blade sinking into my leg.

"Dean..." Sam began, trying to pull him away from me as we locked eyes.

"Who are you bitch?" He questioned again, not looking away.

"Your worst nightmare." I leaned up to his ear, brushing my lips against it ever so slightly.

"I'm a demons daughter." With this, my head slammed into his, knocking the two into one another, sending Sam sprawling onto the ground.

With this I dug the knife from my leg, cut free of the ropes and was on top of Dean in seconds, his green eyes wide, mine as emerald as his.

"And I hunt Winchesters." My hand spiraled around, landing the knife into his shoulder till I felt the crack of bone and heard the yelp of the oldest Winchester as his shoulder blade snapped.

"I love the smell of blood in the morning..." I sighed happily, sprinting out the door and into the Impala as Sam and Dean checked to make sure the other was alright.

That's what was so horrible about the Winchester's... they cared so damned much. I thought

I had nothing, but Crowley, and now he was on my hit list too.

Good thing I snatched the knife.

Looking down, the demon slaying knife lay bloodied on my knee as I swerved down the road in the morning light.

.............................................................

Sam and Dean's POV

"THAT LITTLE BITCH!!" Dean screamed at the top of his lungs as the two raced out of the barn they had held the girl captive in.

"She's gone Sammy!" He cried, a whimper of pain in his voice not only from he broken shoulder, but the pain in his heart.

"We'll find her Dean, I promise..." Sam tried to console as he rested his hand on Dean's other shoulder. All he did was pull away.

"I know Sam, but that bitch stole my baby." He whispered, pain in his voice. That's when Sam decided it was about time that Crowley explained himself.

...

"...Et ad congregandum...eos coram me." Sam chanted, throwing the match stick into the bowl, Crowley, as usual, appearing behind the pair.

" 'Ello boys." He chided, a fake smile plastered onto his smug one of usual. "Moose, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He continued, looking between the two brothers whom were obviously unamused at the moment.

"Oh, someone didn't get along well with little sis did they?" He questioned.

"What now?" Dean asked, voice low as he walked twords Crowley armed with the Angel blade he had stashed during the torturing.

"Didn't you get the message?" He asked, quite sincere with the question, "I sent you Little Ms. Winchester as a peace offering for the week."

This really through off the brothers as they had believed that there was only three of them that existed.

"Quit screwin with us you flaming duch." Dean threatened, placing the sliver blade onto Crowley's throat as the morning sunlight reflected off of it.

"Get talkin or I get choppin, capiche?"

A/n

Okay, I've been wanting to make one of these for a while, I don't think it's the best I've ever written, but it'll do... I'll make a 2nd to it if you want, but it's all up to you.

Peace my beautiful hunters *kiss* *kiss* goodbye!!