hunter's runaway I sam winchester

prologue (Kiara's backstory)

Kiara left her small Eastern European town at just 16 years old, armed with little more than a suitcase full of clothes, an unshakable dream, and enough money to survive for a couple of months. New York City seemed impossibly far from the quiet, cobblestone streets she had grown up on, but she knew it was where she was meant to be. Somehow, it all worked out. Within two years, she was on the cover of Victoria's Secret magazine, named the most beautiful woman in the world by everyone from bloggers to fashion industry titans.

Modeling brought her fame, fortune, and all the trappings of a glamorous life. At 18, she owned a sprawling penthouse in Manhattan, something most people twice her age couldn't dream of. But while the fashion world saw her as a living goddess, they didn't know the truth about what really happened two years ago. Kiara's life wasn't just photoshoots and runway shows—it was filled with dark secrets.

The night that changed everything started like any other. Kiara was attending an industry party when she witnessed something that still haunted her dreams. What she saw wasn't just an ordinary murder. It was otherworldly, terrifying in ways that defied explanation. That night, she met Sam and Dean Winchester—hunters of the supernatural. 

They were older than her, more experienced, and seemed almost skeptical at first of her involvement. But Kiara had an instinct about these things, something deep in her that couldn't be explained, and she helped them solve the case.

From that night on, Kiara's life became entangled with the Winchesters. Sam, now 21, and Dean, 25, would stop by her place every six months, treating her penthouse like a mini vacation from their endless hunts. Dean had always been the protective older brother figure, the one who laughed at her bad jokes and acted like she was still a kid. In fact, she had a special room in her apartment just for him—something he never had growing up.

But Sam was different. Kiara couldn't shake the feeling she got around him. Tall, brooding, with a sharp mind and those warm, dark eyes—she couldn't help but feel something more. It wasn't just a teenage crush; it felt like there was a connection there, something unspoken. She caught him looking at her sometimes, his gaze lingering just a moment too long. Maybe he felt it too, but they never talked about it.

Then, there was Bobby Singer. He had met Kiara during that first case and quickly took a liking to her. He treated her like the daughter he never had, calling her up just to check in and making sure she was staying safe. In return, she saw Bobby as her American father, a gruff but caring presence in her life. Whenever he had the time, he would stop by for a visit, and she would go out of her way to visit him at his salvage yard.

Even with this new family she had found, Kiara still carried a heavy weight. She had seen things she could never unsee, and no amount of runway shows or magazine covers could make her forget the monsters lurking just beneath the surface of the world. The city that had once felt like a fairytale now had an eerie edge to it, as if any moment something could go terribly wrong.

That evening, Kiara was standing in her kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner. The sleek, modern kitchen was one of her favorite places in the penthouse, a spot where she could unwind and forget about the outside world. As she moved from the cutting board to the stove, the warm, comforting aroma of garlic and herbs filled the air.

Outside, the sun was setting, casting a soft, golden light over the Manhattan skyline. It was quiet in the apartment, the only sound the gentle clinking of her knife against the cutting board. She let her mind wander, thinking about her next shoot, about Bobby, about Sam. A small smile crept across her lips as she thought about the last time Sam and Dean had visited. 

Dean had spent most of the time fixing her car and jokingly complaining about her "city-girl lifestyle," while Sam... well, Sam had been his usual quiet self, but there were moments, brief ones, when they had shared a look, a joke, a memory that made her heart race just a little faster.

As Kiara stirred the pot on the stove, her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, sharp knock on the door. Her heart skipped a beat. No one was supposed to be here tonight. She wasn't expecting any visitors.

She turned off the stove, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she walked slowly toward the door. The penthouse was secure—Dean had made sure of that—but the knock unsettled her all the same. 

Another knock followed, louder this time.

Kiara hesitated, glancing at her reflection in the large mirror by the door. Her face was calm, but inside she felt a creeping unease. She reached for the door handle, pausing for a moment before finally pulling it open.

"Dean?"

"Miss me?" he asked, leaning casually against the doorframe with his trademark smirk. 

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hey guys, this is my secod fanfic ever! English is not my first language, but I wrote this when I was 14 so I had to update so don't mind comments if they make 0 sence hahaha.

Thank you for your support and I am 18 now so this migh sound so much better then in 2020 hahah. 

Love, anonymus