Supernatural

pilot

"No! Please! Don't shoot!" I plea, my extended hand shaking in front of me.
I take a step back and hit the wall. Trapped.
"Why are you following us?" Dean demands, pointing a Colt M1911A1 at me, mere feet away. Sam stands behind him off to the side holding a Winchester 1897 pump action shotgun. Both stare at me, their eyes stern and mouths twisted into menacing sneers.
"Please,... I-I can explain." I try to keep my voice calm, steady, but it comes out unsettled and wobbly.
"Oh yeah?" Dean scoffs. "I don't know if I should give you the chance." He eyes me up and down, disgusted by my week old clothes smeared with dirt and grime of all kinds.
"Dean, please," Sam interjects, his face softening a little with curiosity. His eyes meet mine and he nods his head, urging me to talk.
"I...," My voice sticks in my throat. "I know you aren't going to believe me... But, I'm your sister."
"You're right," Dean says, stepping towards me. "I don't believe you."
The tip of the gun is now resting on the side of my temple.
"Please..." I whimper, fighting to hold back tears.
"Dean."
"No, its impossible, Sam. Our mother is dead!" His voice comes out an angry quivering whisper. He presses the gun harder so I'm forced to tilt my head.
I hear a loud click in my ear.
A single tear rolls down my cheek as I close my eyes, waiting.
"Explain."
I open my eyes and see Sam staring at me, his expression contorted with pain. If either of them would be willing to listen, to believe, I knew Sam would.
I open my mouth, trying not to focus on the gun pointed at my head. "John... Your dad... My dad, met this woman on one of his hunts. Elizabeth Moore... My mother... She got pregnant, but he didn't know."
The gun eases up a little, but not much.
"She called him before labor, told him everything. He was angry. Denied the whole thing. Told her I must be someone else's baby... But he still came. He showed up right after I was born, right before my mother died. He knew he couldn't raise me, and he couldn't expect you to Dean. You were both still so young. So he took me to some friends of his. They had settled down and started a family of their own. And I became an addition to it."
I can tell by the look on Sam's face that he is piecing it together in his mind, seeing that it all fits.
"I didn't know he was my dad up until two years ago. He stopped by one day out of the blue, just like he used to, sat me down, told me everything. Believe me, I didn't want to believe him either. Ghosts and demons, angry spirits. It all sounded crazy..."
I pause, taking in a shaky breath, and look at my brother's face. Sam's eyes are shiny with tears, eyebrows drawn together. A mixture of concentration and confusion play on his face. The gun drops to his side. His long slender fingers slip and it falls to the ground with a crash.
I breathe out a sigh of relief.
"She's lying."
The strained voice sounds next to me and the gun jabs at my head. A dull throb starts radiating from the spot.
"Dean, don't!" Sam cries.
"She's lying, Sammy. She's not our sister." His voice falters, wetness springing into his eyes, making his chin tremble.
I brace myself for the bang of the gun, the pain, the nothingness after. A wall of plaid moves in front of me, a protective arm reaches back and wraps around me.
"Move, Sam."
"No, Dean. Listen."
"No, you listen, Sam! How do we know this isn't the demon trying to trick us? Dad's gone. Who's to say she didn't make the whole thing up?"
"Look at her, Dean. Does she look like a demon to you? She's just a girl."
The gun wobbles in his hand. "How do you know for sure?"
"I don't. But Dean, think about it. It all checks out. I know you don't want to believe that Dad would do something like this. That he would keep it a secret from us. But that's how he was, Dean. He kept all kinds of secrets from us. So Dean, please... Put it down."
I don't see him lower the gun, but I know he has when Sam's arm drops down and all the muscles in his body relax. I'm still crying, big hot tears streaming down my face. Sam turns around, pressing me to his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around me. I cry even harder, not only because I know I'm safe now, but because I realize... Dad is really dead.