Dean's Daughter (Supernatural) // Completed

Chapter 3: What are the Chances?

Alice

I drove for miles that night; thankfully, the car had been kept in good condition so I could drive fast. I hadn't seen any police yet but so far the odds had been strangely in my favour almost as if someone wanted me to escape. Yeah, right and tomorrow the apocalypse will start, that sarcastic little voice in my head said. It is, after all, normal to have voices in your head. Right?

Right?

By this point I had reached a small town which had two motels. This was exactly what I'd wanted. I parked in one of the motel car parks and then walked to the other. I had all my possessions in a rucksack I had previously used for school, they include my phone and charger, bobby pins, my file, my purse which I'm lucky to have - earlier that morning I had debated leaving it but decided against it in case of an emergency.  It also contained my credit card which had a couple of hundred dollars on it; I'd been saving for a holiday but there were more pressing matters now.

I had reached the car park of the other motel and noticed a 1967 Chevrolet Impala on my way by. Maybe this could be my next car, I thought. Then the more reasonable side of my brain said, nah, too noticeable. I sighed and ran my hand over the bonnet lovingly, it was a nice car. No! I told myself sternly.

Spinning on my heel, I began walking back towards the motel entrance. Or, I would have if I hadn't tripped over my own feet and fell on my ass. "Damn Converses!" I muttered under my breath. "Laces are always coming loose."

Once I'd tied it a male voice said, "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine, thanks," I replied, without looking up. Abruptly, a hand was thrust in front of my face. I grabbed it gratefully and was hauled to my feet with ease, man this guy was strong.

I looked at the man that helped me, he was tall and broad shouldered with shoulder-length brown hair. I smile awkwardly, "Um, thanks again."

"Anytime," he said with a small smile and made his way towards the Impala.

"Wow, is that your car, it's awesome," I gushed, unable to stop myself.

"Well, it's actually my brothers," he replied. "It's his baby."  The man screwed up his face as if he thought this was funny.

"It's a cool car anyway." With that I walked away, a small smile on my face. I checked into the cheapest room I could get, and immediately jumped on the bed and pulled out my file. I had been itching to read it ever since I had got it and now I finally could, now that I had privacy.

I skipped the parts about myself and my mother and stopped when I reached the section about my father. The section was quite thick, on the first page it had a mug shot and I was briefly caught of guard by my dad's looks. The rest of the page read:

Name: Dean Winchester

Date of Birth: 24/01/79

Place of Birth: Lawrence, Kansas

Parents: Mary Winchester (Mother - Deceased)  John Winchester (Father - Missing, suspected dead)

Siblings: Sam Winchester (Brother)

Criminal Offences: Mail Fraud, Credit Card Fraud, Grave Desecrations, Breaking and Entering, Armed Robbery, Kidnapping and 3 Accounts of First Degree Murder

Okay, it was official: my dad was a criminal and a badass.  The page also said that he had "died" at least twice and was wanted in around four states.  But something about his offences didn't quite ring true and I had to cling to the hope that he wasn't a ruthless monster.  After I finished reading my stomach growled loudly. I sighed. "You're not going to shut up anytime soon are you?" I asked and in reply it growled again. "Okay, Okay, let's go get some food."

I left the room after grabbing some money, locking the door behind me. I walked down to the lobby and asked the receptionist if he knew where the nearest diner is, he told me it was only a block away. Thanking him I made my way towards the diner.

I entered a small but clean diner, very cliché with red and white checked tablecloths and cracked brown leather stools along the edge of the counter. I casually looked around myself, checking to see if there was anybody I knew. Just as I was about to give myself the all clear my breath hitched in my throat.

There, sitting in the corner booth of the diner was my father.

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