𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 (𝐀 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥)

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲

Summary: Two years after Sam left for college, y/n has been doing her own hunts for her dad. Until one specific hunt sent her toppling over the edge, she'd come back home wrecked. Expecting her father to be a little more sympathetic, she came home to him shitfaced. That day, she decided she had enough.

(Y/N is 20 years old, Dean is 24 years old and Sam is 20 years old but is in college)

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Third Person POV

•September 2003

Y/N grunted in pain, it had taken a lot from her to subdue a large monstrous man who had been snatching livers from the bodies of very living victims. After slashing the silver blade across his throat, Edward Trenton fell dead to the ground. Slumped in his own blood.

The scuffling of little feet drew Y/N's attention, freezing in her position. Her ears perked up as she turned to see a 13-year old Cole Trenton standing by the door frame, horrified at the sight of y/n standing over his dead father's body, having witnessed the whole killing. The kid's eyes were wide with terror.

Y/N's heart broke, the guilt of the situation overriding her. She shakily raised her gun at the young boy, not sure if to kill him, not sure if he's a monster like his father. But she couldn't do it. The young boy looked like a deer in headlights, frozen with fear and terror as Y/N locked the safety back on.

At that moment, she ran for the hills. Letting the kid live, not knowing he would come back years later with a vendetta but she couldn't do it. She couldn't kill the kid, she dismounted her bike and sped off into the night. Struggling to compose herself after holding a gun to a young kid, and killing his father in front of him. He probably didn't even know his father was a monster, and that fact haunted her.

-

She stopped off at a gas station to fill up her tank. Pacing the dimly lit station as she pressed her phone to her ear. "Come on, charming. Pick up, pick up, pick up" She pleaded but Dean's phone went to voicemail.

Y/N's heart sank as she listened to Dean's voicemail message. She knew he was usually good about answering her calls, but this was the fifth time in a row it had gone to voicemail. She bit her lip, a sense of worry creeping in.

She knew he was on a hunt with John and her father was at their Texas safehouse, doing god knows what. Y/N glanced around anxiously, the eerie silence of the deserted gas station making her even more uneasy. The only sounds coming from the occasional passing truck on the nearby freeway.

After filling up, she dismounted her bike and headed straight to her Texas safehouse. She desperately needed to talk about what she just went through. What she just put a young kid through.

-

As Y/N pulled up to her safehouse, she felt the weight of what she had done to that young boy bearing down on her shoulders. She could still see the fear in his eyes, the shock and terror. It was eating her up on the inside, and she knew she needed to talk to someone about it.

She entered the safehouse, tossing her keys onto the coffee table and slumped onto the couch, burying her face in her hands. "How did the hunt go?" F/N's slurred voice startled her, his tone indicating he was very much drunk. And that just pissed her off even more.

Y/N's head shot up at the sound of her father's voice. "Fantastic, dad. Just peachy," She retorted, sarcasm dripping from her tone. F/N moved to the couch, and proceeded to slump, a bottle of Jack clutched in his hand, a glass of it in the other. He reeked of alcohol, and judging by the half empty bottle beside him, he had been drowning himself in it for quite some time.