𝐖𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 || 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

Chapter 17 ~ Meeting the Harvelles

Episode: Season 2 - Everybody Loves A Clown Pt. 1

I didn't remember passing in and out of consciousness. Maybe that was better, though. Because when I finally woke up, Sam gave me the bad news. John was dead. We didn't know how or why but he was. The boys were in such pain, all I wanted was to make it better.

But I couldn't fix this - none of us could. Sam was broken, I could see it in his eyes but Dean wouldn't even talk about it. I understood that, though, I didn't want to discuss it either. It just hurt too much. And...talking about it made it real somehow. I walked over to Sam and rested my head on his arm.

I felt him wrap an arm around me and I leaned further into his side as tears brimmed in my eyes. Smoke wafted up into the air from the pyre as the flames engulfed John's body, taking him away from us forever. Trudging back to the Impala afterward, I climbed in the backseat and lied down, brushing tears away with the back of my hand. Turning around, I faced the seat away from the boys and fell asleep.

The next few days, we stayed with Bobby. Thank goodness for him, I don't know what we would have done if we didn't have that safe haven. For a while, none of us wanted to take on another case. But it was our job and soon, we'd have to get back to it. Stumbling into the kitchen in my bathrobe, I pulled the door to the fridge open and picked up a bottle of beer. Popping the top off with a bottle-opener, I downed a sip as the sounds of Dean and Sam arguing outside drifted into the room.

The burning liquid slid down my throat as I swallowed and I let out a sigh, blinking my bleary eyes. My eyes flicked to the clock on the wall: 10:12 AM. I made a face. I didn't mean to sleep that late. Suddenly, someone cleared their throat and I turned around to be met with candy-apple green eyes. I let out a groan.

"What do you want, Dean?" I growled, putting the bottle back in the fridge.

"Well, A) that was my beer and B) you're late," he said, crossing his arms over his gray t-shirt.

I rolled my eyes, mimicking his actions.

"So?"

"So you need to have your behind ready in 5, Sammy found a case."

I nodded as he brushed past me and making a face, wiped off my shoulder where he touched me so as not to get infected with "Dean germs". It didn't take me long to get dressed and soon, we were in a van we borrowed from Bobby driving down the road to our new destination. A couple of hours later, we stopped at a bar on the side of the road. It looked deserted so we stepped inside. The place was empty, though, except for an unconscious drunk curled up on the pool table. I arched an eyebrow at Sam and he just shrugged.

"Hey, buddy," he said to the man but he didn't respond, "I'm guessing that isn't Ellen,"

"Yeah." Dean agreed with him, eyeing the man.

I walked over to the bar when suddenly we heard the cocking of a gun. I spun around and came face-to-face with the barrel of a gun manned by a blonde girl about my age.

"You know, you should know something, miss. When you put a rifle on someone, don't put it right against their back because it makes it real easy to do-" Dean started to say before whipping around and grabbing the gun from the girl, discharging the bullets, "That,"

She punched him in the face then and I let out a snort to which Dean glared at me.

"Sam, I need some help in here!" he called out over his shoulder, "Can't see. I can't even see,"

"Sorry, Dean. I can't right now. I'm, uh, a little tied up," Sam said to him sheepishly as he was led in, hands on the back of his head by a dark-haired middle-aged woman with a gun in her hand.

I put my own hands up in surrender, "Good job, guys,"

"Shut up, Parker," they both bit out in unison, making me roll my eyes.

"Sam? Dean? Winchester?" the older woman asked them before turning to face me, "Parker? Martinez?"

"Yeah," we all said in confirmation.

"Mom, you know these guys?" the girl asked the woman.

"Yeah, I think these are John Winchester's boys and the little girl he took in," she told the blonde before laughing and putting her gun down,"Hey, I'm Ellen. My daughter, Jo,"

The girl we now knew as Jo put her own gun down, "Hey,"

"You're not gonna hit me again, are you?" Dean asked her warily.

"And if you're not, would you, please?" I asked with a smirk to which Jo returned with a friendly smile.