𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓 𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐒 | d. winchester

[ prologue ]

[ prologue ]

I HAVE COME TO the understanding that in the world of hunting, nothing is as it seems. I think back to all the times my family and I would find a way to solve a case; when we could save humanity and look good while doing it. I think back to my brother's chaotic expressions, my father's cheesy grins and my mother's sly smirks. I even think back to a time when we would work so effortlessly as a family, not having the struggles of social norms weighing us down.

Time after time, we hunted flawlessly, working together as a family. We avoided all danger, and our safety was prioritised, yet we managed to save countless others in the process.

And that's when it hits me. After all my thoughts, I always come back to the same realisation; we are always fighting. Whether that be wendigoes, shapeshifters, ghosts or expectations, we never have a break from the fight.

The romantic idea of life was never on the agenda for a family like mine. We just never seemed to be able to fit the mould. Sure, we had all those elements that a traditional family has, yet in reality, we couldn't be more different. On the outside, we seemed normal. We could always play the part of a regular family, the type who goes out for ice cream or plays soccer on the local team. But really, behind the facade, we were damaged. Broken. Faulty.

I always wondered what it would be like to live a normal life. To grow up with two loving parents and go to a good school. To graduate high school, go to college and fall in love. Get married, have babies, you know the drill. But I guess I signed up for the life of a hunter the day I found out what the hell hides in the dark.

[1985 - Lakeside, Nebraska]

"Ash!" A blonde woman calls from the classic car parked in the driveway of the run-down motel. "Ashton John! Go back and get your sister!"

Ashton John Martin, a young boy of age ten stands in the doorway of the motel room, a frown etched on his face.

"But she cries too much, Mommy!"

The woman's face softens. She walks toward her son, bending down to look him in the eye. "Son, I know she cries. And I know it can be annoying some times," she cups his face in her hands. "Especially when your tired. But she's your little sister, and she can't do this without you."

Ash nods, looking at his feet. His mother stands up and walks back towards the Lincoln Continental, getting into the passengers seat. He moves back into the room, scooping up the crying infant girl, and heading to the backseat of his parents car.

"Where are we going now?" Ash asks, buckling his sister into the car seat. His parents in the front seats share a glance, before the mother answers softly.

"Honey, we are going to a place you will just love. Kansas. Like in the Wizard of Oz!" That seems to satisfy the young boy as he pulls out his little bag of knucklebones, quickly becoming distracted. 

[1990 - Sioux Falls, South Dakota]

"Addie!" Ash Martin screams at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing across the the car.

"Ash, keep your bloody voice down!" Teresa Martin shouts from the passenger seat of the '61 Lincoln Continental. The man driving chuckles, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel.

"Mom, she stole my Gameboy. She's ruinin' it. She's ruinin' everything." Ash's melodramatic speech earns more chuckles from the front seat.

"Your sister ain't doin' nothing wrong." The car comes to a stop, another dingy motel coming into sight. "Aaand, we're here. Get your stuff out and bring it in." Teresa opens her car door to go get the key for the room. The man opens his car door also, strolling to the boot and taking his bag out.

"Ash, d'you reckon Dad'll be here this time? I mean, I'm practically a big girl now. I'm six!" Adeline bounces in her seat, the teddy getting squashed by her tiny arms.

Ash looks at his baby sister with a sad expression. "I don't know, Addie. I don't know."

The two make their way out of the car, setting themselves up on the worn mattresses. A while later, Teresa and the man walk through the door, throwing their things on the floor by their bed.

"We'll be home late, don't wait up." The man walks out the door, leaving Teresa to say goodbye to her children.

"Goodnight sweethearts. Now, we are going out for a bit, you guys have gotta stay here, alright?" Teresa bends down and places a kiss on Adeline's cheek. "I mean it. Stay in the room at all times."

"Mom, are you going hunting again?" Ash peers down at his mother, his brows furrowed. He'd gotten taller this past year, towering over the two girls.

"Yes, darling. You make sure you look after Addie, alright? Promise me that?" Teresa holds out her pinkie finger, Ash intertwining his with hers.

"Promise." She leans up and gave Ash a kiss on the cheek too.

"You know where the gun is?" Ash nods. "Good. Make sure you use it if need be. We are here for each other. Through thick and thin. Goodbye, kids. I love you," Teresa cups both her children's faces in her hands, savouring the look of their faces for as long as she could. A car horn breaks her out of her reverie. She stands and walks to the door, leaving with one glance behind her.

Ash walks over to his bed with his Gameboy, leaning against the wall. The music began to echo through the otherwise silent motel room. Adeline sits next to her older brother, watching over his shoulder.

They sit like that for hours, the young girl's sleeping head resting on her fifteen-year-old brother's shoulder, his laying asleep on top of hers, when the door swings open.

Ash is up in a flash, his gun pointing towards the door, his body in front of his scared sister. The sight of Gordon Walker, blood smeared across his face and drenching his shirt sleeves has Ash tighten his grip on his pistol.

"Where's our mother?" He demands, taking a step forward.

Gordon chuckles, raising his hands. "Oh, she didn't make it. Sorry kids."

Ash clicks the safety off, taking another step. "Where is our mother!"

Gordon steps towards the boy, a sly grin on his face, "like I said; she didn't make it." Before Ash could react, Gordon takes hold of the end of the gun and points it towards the ceiling. Pieces of plaster rain down on the bed as the gun goes off. Gordan swings his fist, hitting Ash in the nose.

Ash's body falls to the floor, his hands cupping his broken nose. Gordan towers over him, his own gun in hand. Just as the safety is pulled back, a shot rings through the air. Ash's eyes screw closed, waiting for death, when he hears a sharp cry coming from the man in front of him, watching as he falls to the ground in pain. Behind him stands the little six-year-old girl, donned in a unicorn t-shirt and mickey mouse pyjama pants, eyes wide and terrified.

Ash stands, ignoring the pain in his nose as he rushes around the room, gathering their things before herding his sister through the door and to the Lincoln Continental parked in front of their room.