17 Crimes. One Hunter. (Supernatural fanfic)

Scarlet Lace Fabel

There isn't much to say about me. Just that I'm a sarcastic bitch with a great personality. Okay, I may be getting abit too cocky there. Well might aswell give you some intel while you have the decently to read about me.

I've known about the supernatural life since I was around six years old. After seeing my mom ripped away from me, me and dad had set on a mission as he trained me to be a hunter. It didn't take me long to get ahold of things I was a fast learner, and knew how to handle a gun better than a pro. My father taught me the way of living on the road, beating old geezers at pool and cards. They've threatened me, but I can take care of myself.

After about two years, my dad had taken me to Sioux Falls where I had met Bobby Singer. An old redneck drunk. Or that's what people said. I didn't see him that way, I grew to like him as he and my father were close friends. We stayed with Bobby for a few months as hunting with him was fun. And we made a pretty good hell of a team. We'd met different people along the way. Plentiful and odd. I learned about creatures never heard before, and killing local legends. Until, one day we came back to Bobby's place and two boys sat on his couch.

That was the day I met the Winchesters. Their father, that I had learned to be John, was a Hard, stoned man. He almost held no emotion. Atleast compared to mine. We had all been introduced, as at the time I was only 11. I was the same age as Dean. Sam was younger of course, but I couldn't help but get along with him. I was a sisterly figure to him, but as to a Dean, me and him constantly bickered which rock band was the best. Van Halen all the way baby. But even over that me and the brothers grew a strong bond ever since.

Then it came the time for me to leave them. Me and my Dad had set on a case in Michigan, where we had disappeared for a good 10-12 years. Long, yes, I know. We just never kept in touch with them. But I did with Bobby. I'd call him when my Father would be gone or a few days. Sometimes he'd put Dean on the phone. There we'd talk about our dads, and how I went to a few concerts. Then I'd ask For Sammy, telling him I missed him, and wish I could be there when he'd go to school. I knew he had Dean, but Sammy was like my little brother too. Last Time I had spoken to them, was around six years ago now. The last time I heard Sammy went off and went to Stanford. I always knew he was a smart boy. But enough with that.

Now I just need to head back to Bobby's pay him a visit. Only because I have some news. And it's not the greatest news either.