My Father, Sam Winchester

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Farrah hummed a happy tune as she took three plates off of the table and dumped them in a plastic bin full of other dirty dishes. Emptying the half-full glasses, she stacked them and put them inside more empty cups.

After she finished wiping down the table, two men sat there. The older smiled up at her. "Thanks, we'll take this one."

She smiled. "I'll get a waiter right out."

As Farrah walked away, she couldn't help but to look back at the younger one. There was something almost...familiar about him, though she didn't know what. His long brown hair was almost long enough to brush behind his ears and shoulders, which made her giggle, and his green eyes were vibrant with life.

"Janice, table four has customers," Farrah informed the waitress covering tables 1-5.

"Alright, I'll be right over," mumbled the lazy worker. Farrah sighed. Janice was in one of her moods.

After setting the dishes down by the washer, she picked up a receipt book and pen and walked over. "Sorry, your waitress is on a break. I'll be your waitress today. I'm Farrah."

"Hey, Farrah. I'll have the bacon cheeseburger," said the older one, "and a coke."

"Alright. And what can I get you?" She smiled at the younger man.

"Water and a chicken salad, thanks."

"I'll have that right out."

Farrah walked away, not being able to help but to giggle at the difference between the men who were so obviously brothers. Then she saw Janice, sitting in the back on her phone.

"Janice, I won't keep doing your work for you."

"Yeah, you will. You've done it for two years. You always say the same thing too."

She sighed and handed the order in.

About twenty minutes later, Farrah was picking up their check and her jaw dropped. "W-Winchester? That's your last name?"

Dean looked at how he signed the check. Oh, he'd forgotten to use the alias on the card. "Yeah."

"My mom told me that was dad's last name." She looked at Sam, whose eyes she now knew to match hers. "Is your name Sam, by any chance?"

He looked surprised. "Uh, yeah."

She slapped her hand over her mouth. "You-you are a hunter then? You were with your dad when you met Mom."

He frowned and Dean raised his brow at his brother. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen, which would make you thirty-two."

Dean gave Sam a pointed look. "You were sixteen? How did I not know this?"

Sam's jaw worked and he ignored his brother. "Farrah, why don't we let Dean finish the job and you and I can talk."

"Whoa, what? Sam-"

"It's just a crossroads demon, Dean. You can handle it."

Dean sighed. "Yeah, alright."