"Sammy, where is my daddy?" Sam sighed as he continued to brush his teeth, mouth full of toothpaste. He bent down to spit into the sink, and then he grabbed the towel to wipe the remaining toothpaste from his lips.
"He's with my Dad and Dean." He rolled his eyes as the little girl sat on the edge of his motel bed.
"What are they doing?" she questioned as Sam made his way to the make shift kitchen.
"Y/N, we've been through this, they're...working." He said delicately, trying carefully to choose the right words.
Sam had been locked up in this crappy motel, left to babysit this annoying little girl for three days now. He just recently turned 13, and he knew he was old enough to work a case with his dad and older brother, Dean. Unfortunately, someone needed to stay back and watch the kid.
"M'kay." she simply said. She hopped off the bed and followed Sam into the kitchen.
"Cheerios or Chex?"
"Mmm," she pondered. She weighed her options very carefully before answering, "Chex, please."
Sam smiled at her eagerness, and set to work on preparing Y/N's breakfast. He got the small pink bowl with the built in straw from the drain board. He poured her cereal and the milk, and then placed the bowl in front of her. Her already toothy grin grew even wider as she beamed at her cereal. Next, he poured a glass of orange juice and set that down in front of her. She smiled at him with a silent, "thanks"
Sam moved and began to clean up the motel room. Picking up a shirt here, a Barbie there.
"Sammy, you aren't going to sit with me?"
He straightened up and rolled his eyes again, as a small smile played at his lips. "Of course, Y/N."
He returned to the kitchen and plopped down into the chair opposite Y/N. He watched her as she happily munched on her Chex. He admired how naive she was and she hadn't the slightest clue what was really out there. Not a single idea as to what their dad's really did for "work".
He chuckled as she slurped the milk through the built in straw on the bowl.
Y/N's dad and John had met a couple months back, while they were both working the same case. A vamp biker gang was terrorizing a small town in Iowa. It really wasn't a one man job, so Y/N's dad and John teamed up and easily took care of the rebel vampires. In the end, the fathers discovered they worked really well together. Also, Y/N got along famously with John's boys; especially Sam.
Sam leaned forward in his chair, and grabbed Y/N's untouched orange juice. He took a big gulp, and laughed as Y/N's face immediately screwed up in offense.
"HEY!" she shrieked.
"What? It's not like you were drinking it!" he laughed even harder when she stood on her chair and reached across the table to grab for her half-drunk cup of OJ. Sam pulled back to keep the cup away from her.
"You know, I only drink the juice once all my milk in gone!"
She swat her arm and her hand made contact with the glass, sending it tumbling into his lap. He shot up as he shook the remaining OJ to the floor. He looked up as he heard a small sniffle.
Any frustration and anger just melted away as saw the little girl who was still standing on her chair. She sniffed once more, and blurted out, "I'm so sorry, Sammy! Please don't be mad at me!"
He half smiled, and approached Y/N. He put his arm up and brushed his hand, lovingly, along her arm. "It's okay, Y/N. No biggie."
She relaxed at this, and sat back down in her chair as Sam started to clean up the sticky mess.
Sam spent the rest of the morning, picking up after Y/N while she played with her Barbies. When the room was completely clean; nothing left on the floor, and the beds made, Sam sat the edge of his bed anxiously bouncing his knee. It had been about a day or so since he last heard from his dad and he was eager to hear how the hunt was going.
He sighed as he looked around the room one last time, looking for something to do, to keep his mind occupied. He gave up, resolving to sit in the easy chair in the corner. He grabbed a discarded magazine on the side table and he began idly perusing the pages.
"Sammy? Can you be the boy Barbie?"
"Heck no!" he scoffed raising the magazine over his face.
"Sammy, please. You never play with me!" she whined.
He lowered the magazine and looked into her piercing Y/E/C eyes. And his reservations instantly ebbed as he knew it wasn't going to be a forgotten issue.
He tossed the magazine aside, and crawled to the floor to sit across from Y/N. She offered him the sculpted man Barbie, and he took it. She started chirping happily as she dove into her make believe world. Sam didn't know exactly how to play Barbie, so he just followed Y/N's lead.
He glanced to Y/N's face and took a mental not of how happy she looked. Her short Y/H/C hair waved carelessly as she wildly told a story through her dolls.
Sam relaxed slightly as Y/N's Barbie asked his Barbie a question. He opened his mouth to answer for his Barbie, when the lock on the motel room door began to jiggle. Sam jumped to his feet and put himself between the door and Y/N.
The door flew open to reveal Dean, followed by John and Y/N's dad.
"DADDY!" she screamed as she clumsily scrambled to her feet and bounded to her father. The tall, bulky man bent down to scoop up his little girl.
"Hey, baby. How are you?" She responded by excitedly recounting the last several days with Sam.
"Playing with your dolls again, Sammy?" Dean quipped.
Sam looked to the dolls he was just playing with to his older brother.
"No. Well I was just playing with Y/N."
"Suuuure." He said as a cocky grin splayed across his face. He set his stuff down on Sam's bed, and made his way to the bathroom.
John too put his bags down and began to unpack his weapons. Y/N continued to chat with her father happily by the door. He didn't even have a chance to put his stuff down, or even shut the door.
Between stories, Y/N's dad interrupted her as he got up from his crouched position.
"Well John, I think I'm going to get Y/N and I a room. I need sleep, and-" he looked down at his blood soaked shirt "a shower."
He made his way over to John, and he extend his hand. John smiled and gladly accepted Y/N's dad's handshake. The two macho man shook hands, as John silently nodded to Y/N's father.
"Okay, pumpkin, get your stuff together."
Y/N immediately went to work gathering her things and packing them into her Care Bear back pack.
Once all of her things were stowed away, Y/N's father waved good bye to the Winchester's and left the room, he stopped in the doorway and turned to wait for Y/N.
With her backpack on her back, she said good bye to each Winchester one at a time.
She approached John first. "Goodbye, John. Thank you for the cereal." He smirked and he patted her on the back. "You're welcome, Y/N."
Next, it was Dean's turn. "Bye, D."He responded with a chuckle as he ruffled her hair. "See ya, squirt."
Next she went to Sam. "Bye Sammy. Thank you or taking care of me, and for playing Barbies." Sam's face glowed a bright red, as Dean started to laugh behind him. "You're welcome." He muttered through gritted teeth. He was taken by surprise when little arms wrapped tight around his torso. He instantly relaxed and put his hand on her back. As she pulled away, he smiled down at her, as she beamed up at him.
Later that night Sam was fast asleep in the bed he had to share with his brother. He rolled over, and away from his brother, as he lazily opened his eyes. As soon as he was coherent, he knew something wasn't right. He sat up and looked to the bed next to his. John was in his bad, fast asleep. And Dean was next to him, snoring slightly.
Sam rubbed his eyes, and took a deep breath, breathing in through his nose. That's when he smelt it: Sulphur. He turned to Dean and began to shake him awake.
"Dean! Wake up!"
Dean groaned groggily, and sat up to prop himself up on his elbow. "What the hell, Sam? You didn't just work for 2 days straight to kill a bunch of jerk vamps. Let me sleep!"
He turned back over and pulled the covers over his head.
"No, Dean, wake up. Do you smell that?" he said as he shook Dean once more.
"Gross dude."
"Dean." Sam warned.
After a beat of silence, Dean quickly got to his feet and grabbed his gun from the bedside table. John was stirring beside them and he too was getting to his feet, a gun in his hands.
When they were all to their feet they heard a loud explosion, which shook the walls of the rinky motel room. John was the first to the door, unlocking it and cautiously stepping into the cold night air. The source of the explosion was instantly evident. A couple rooms down, flames erupted from the door and windows. The only person in sight was the motel owner. John and the boys ran to the owner, who stood about 20 feet from the flames.
Sam and Dean shielded their eyes from the heat of the inferno. John looked to the owner, who was eerily silent as he stared at the fire before him.
"You know," the short man started. He turned to John, eyes glazed over and onyx completely overtook them.
"You hunters are a real pain in my ass." A blade dropped from his sleeve and he deftly swiped at John's throat. Dean lunged to the demon as John dodged the knife. Dean effectively took the demon to the ground and before they could douse it with Holy Water, black smoke erupted from the small man's mouth and coiled up into the night.
"What the hell? What's happening!?" the owner shouted as he came to, to Dean on top of him.
Just then, his head snapped to the fire currently destroying his motel. He shakily got to his feet as he ran off to his office to call 911.
Just then a shrill scream came from within the fire. A little girl's scream. Sam's eyes widened in absolute fear.
"Y/N" he breathed. He started to run to their room where the fire emanated, but a strong arm stopped him. John was already running to the fire to save his friend and his daughter.
"Sammy," Dean deep voice brought Sam back to Earth. "Listen, stay here."
"But Dean-"
"Stay, Sammy!"
With that, Dean was off to follow his father into the fire. Sam watched in horror as no one emerged from the blaze. After what felt like eternity, Dean emerged with a little girl wrapped in his arms. He sprinted over to Sam and set Y/N down.
She was crying hysterically as she clung to Dean.
"Squirt, stay here with Sammy. Can you do that for me?"
She barely nodded as she turned to Sam, to then cling to him. After silently surveying Y/N to see if she was okay, he held on tightly to her. He shifted his focus back to the blaze, as John and Dean came from the fire. Dean had his arm around his dad, and was supporting his weight.
They came to rest in front of Sam and Y/N. The both collapsed coughing furiously.
Y/N unburied her head from Sam, and turned her tear stricken eyes to John.
"Where's my daddy, John?"
After a coughing fit, he looked to her shiny eyes and shook his head, sadly. She didn't know what that meant, so she asked again.
"John, is my daddy okay?"
"Sweetheart," he started. His voice was raspy but laced with complete sadness.
She started at him with wide eyes, and her mouth agape. She knew by John's demeanor, where her dad was.
She began to wail, and fell once again into Sam's arms.

The Winchester's and Y/N didn't get to a new motel a couple towns over until the wee hours of the morning.
John settled into his bed, and Sam and Dean into the one next to his. Y/N tucked into scratchy blankets on the ancient couch.
The sun was just beginning to rise, and peek through the curtains. John was asleep, and Dean snored quietly beside Sam.
Sam on the other hand couldn't sleep. He has so much on his mind. What was going to happen to Y/N now? Was John going to take her in? Where was she going to end up? He had more questions than answers, and it was all becoming rather overwhelming.
"Sammy?" A tiny voice cut through silence in the motel room, and it startled Sam, and pulled him from his thoughts.
"Yeah Y/N/N?" he whispered.
"I can't sleep." She answered quietly this time.
Sam gently took the covers off him, and crept over to the couch were Y/N laid.
"My daddy's not coming back, huh?"
In the darkness, his eyes shot wide and he didn't know how to answer her. The truth was best, but how do you tell a 7 year old that their dad is dead?
"Y/N...No, he's not coming back."
He braced for her hysterical crying, but was surprised when he felt her small, warm hand on his.
"Sammy, will you stay with me, until I fall asleep?"
"Yeah, of course." He answered immediately and without hesitation. She scooted over so he had room to sit. Once he was comfortable with his arms crossed above his head, she slung the blanket over him. She rolled away from him, and she instantly relaxed. Sam stared up to the ceiling and sighed.
He didn't know what was going to happen to Y/N.
Sam tensed as she rolled over in her sleep to face him. She buried her nose into his side and slung her arm across his belly. He brought one hand down from above his head and laid his hand on hers.
No matter what would ever happen, he just wanted Y/N to be happy.

You woke with a start, as your eyes darted around the room. You glanced at the clock as you tried to calm your breathing. Your room was silent except for your breathing, and the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.
2:35 AM
You took a deep breath and brought your knees to your chest. A couple deep breaths usually helped to bring you back down after you'd been startled awake by the ever present nightmares.
You remember that night almost 16 years ago, like it was yesterday. If you closed your eyes, you could distinctly remember the feel of the immense heat as the motel room you shared with your father, burst into flames.
Goosebumps arose on your arms as you closed your eyes. Images flashed across your vision: your dad sprang from his bed to grab you from yours. He sprinted to the door, but a huge wall of fire appeared in front of it. He then set his sights on the window. He was desperate to find any way out of that room; any way to save you.
As if the fire read your father's mind, the inferno over took the cheap curtains. There was no way out of that room.
Finding no exit, you dad squeezed you into his chest to protect you from the harsh heat. He flipped around and ran for the bath room. The fire had yet to reach that room. Your dad sat you down in the tub. You clung to him desperately, and didn't want to let go.
"Pumpkin, I need you to let me go." "No, daddy!" you screamed. "Y/N, I will be right back I promise."
You stared into your father's eyes, and found the courage to let go.
Your father's eyes had always been a refuge. It was a passage to a peaceful place where no harm could come to you. Little did you know it was the last time you'd find that happiness for a long time.
You shook the memories from your mind as you stripped the blankets from your legs. You got up, and trudged to the bathroom. You flicked on the lights, and faced yourself in the mirror.
You look at yourself up and down. "If daddy could see his pumpkin now."
The morning following the fire, John had to figure out what he needed to do with you. Although he's never admit it out loud, he would never consider taking on another kid. Yes, he felt bad for the decision he made, but it what was best for you.
John had you say goodbye to Sam and Dean. When Sam asked where he was taking you, John stayed quiet, and refused to answer Sam, all he would say is, "You'll understand when you're older.
You didn't understand why Sam screamed and chased John's car as you both drove away.
After several minutes of silence, John pulled up to the local police station. The car idled as John's hands gripped the steering wheel tight; his eyes set forward as he stayed silent.
With your Care Bear backpack on your back, you weren't sure what was going to happen next.
John shifted in his seat uncomfortably, and moved his stoic stare to you.
"Y/N, I am very sorry about what happened to your daddy. I just need you know that this is what's best for you."
You tiled you head and opened your mouth to respond and you were immediately cut off by John curt response.
"Y/N, please go into that police station. Tell them your Dad is dead. They'll take care of you from there."
"But-"
"Y/N." His voice was wavering, with such sadness and anger. There was a warning in his voice as well that you didn't want to test.
As John's big black car sped away, you wondered if you'd ever get to play Barbie's with Sam again.
After that day, you were into the foster care system where you remained until you were 18.
You looked into your bathroom mirror and tilted your head to the side as if that would give you a different view of your reflection.
You spent a lot of time hating yourself, but after you blossomed into an adult, and you gained your independence from foster care, you began to really love yourself. Needless to say, you still had your insecurities; especially about your body.
You could never say you "hated" your body, but you never liked to look for too long. Bottom line, you were a big girl. You were really tall, just like your father. You were also... a bit thicker than your average girl. You weren't fat by any means, but you also weren't thin. That's okay though.
You again shook your head to clear your thoughts as you set to the toilet to pee. After tending to your business, you ventured to your bed. You plopped down into your king sized mattress and stared up at the ceiling fan. Your mind was completely void as you watched the fan spin lazily.
You took one more deep breath, hoping to relax your body enough to hopefully go back to sleep. After deeply exhaling it was evident that sleep was not going to come anytime soon.
You stared at your fan a little bit longer, and you were so thankful to have it, especially on a hot New Mexican summer like tonight. You reached to your forehead to wipe the bit of sweat that had accumulated there. As soon as you wiped the beads away your blank mind quickly shifted to the fire, and the memory of the heat.
You shuddered, and tuned over on your side. That seemed to help, because you than began to think about the day before the fire. A smile appeared on your face when you thought of that stupid pink bowl with the straw built in and the cereal Sam made you.
Since the day the Impala's taillights faded into the distance, you never heard from the Winchester's again. No visits, calls, or letters. You spent a lot of time dwelling on the fact that they didn't care enough to contact you. The dwelling just made you angry and bitter. You concluded that they never really cared about you or your father.
It took a long time to forgive what John had done with you. You felt hurt, and disregarded. In the end you know he did it, because he thought it was best for you.
Nevertheless, you still thought of the Winchester's often; especially Sam.
A chuckle escaped your lips when you thought of how you conned Sam into playing Barbie's with you. You closed your eyes as you fondly remember the look in his eyes when he started to get into what ever make believe world you'd made up. There was something in the way he looked at you that made you feel safe. It was a look that would calm you in even the worst situations.
"No use dwelling on the past, Y/N." you sighed and rolled over to your other side to hopefully fall back into a dreamless sleep.
When the sun came up several hours later, you got out of bed, and walked down stairs to start the coffee.
After you flicked the switch on the coffee pot, you slipped on your slippers by the door to retrieve the paper from the driveway.
You took a second to unwrap the dusty paper and you clicked your tongue as you read the headline.
"3 More Women Dead in Arroyo Murders"
You began to scan the article as you shuffled back into your house.
When you were 20, you saved up just enough money to put a down payment on a house 20 minutes outside Santa Fe.
It was the shittiest house you'd ever laid eyes on. It was perfect. The price was incredibly low as it was "unsaleable" according to the Realtor.
2 Families had been murdered in cold blood in the span of 25 years inside your cozy home. When you informed your Realtor that you'd take it, he thought you were bat shit crazy, and tried mercilessly to talk you out it. You shot down all of his other home options, and he hesitantly drew up the paper work for you to sign.
A couple hours and a cramped hand later, you were a homeowner; even if it was to a haunted, dilapidated shit hole in a small town with only a gas station. (Truth be told you weren't even sure if there was gas at the gas station.)
You only needed to spend one night in the home to know what was haunting it: a poltergeist. Simple enough. You searched the property until you came to several unmarked graves. You spent the next couple hours digging up several coffins. Once you uncovered all the skeletons, you salted the shit of them, and burned them.
As the bones burned, you brought out an old lawn chair, and a small cooler with a 6 pack inside.
"Here's to any motherfucker who wants to harm me, or anyone whoever comes into my home. May you die a swift and painful death." You lifted your beer bottle and took a long sip.
After a nice burp you sat down on the lawn chair and crossed your legs at your ankles, and sat back to enjoy the bone bonfire before you.
"Welcome to the Neighborhood, Y/N."
That was 4 years ago, and you haven't looked back since. The first couple months were pretty difficult. After de-ghosting the house, you renovated as best you could. You weren't some manly carpenter man, but you got the job done. The house looked great in your opinion, but there was still something missing. You'd spend so much time with foster brothers, and foster sisters, that you had never really been alone until now.
After a night of binge watching South Park, you had the most ingenious idea: You would turn your home into a Safe House for hunters. It was perfect. You were so lonely, so having people stop in would be great company. Plus, truth be told you loved to take care of people.
You really hadn't been in the best foster homes. While the foster moms and dad would be drunk or coked out, you assumed the responsibility of taking care of your siblings; whether you were younger or older than them.
Making your home into a safe house was one of the best decisions you'd ever made. Hunters of all kinds would trickle in and out of your home at all times of the day, and all days of the year. It didn't matter who they were, if they were hunters, you welcomed them into your home with open arms.
You mindlessly shook your head as you read, and walked back into your house. "Poor women. Hopefully, some hunter will pick up the job soon."
When you entered your kitchen, the smell of fresh brewed coffee filled your nostrils, an immediately gave you a bit more energy.
You sat down at your kitchen table, and planted your glasses on your head. Next you took a sip of coffee and picked up the paper. You began to read and get lost in the stories of the world around you.
A couple day later you found yourself reading about another women being murdered in cold blood near an arroyo. You lied down on your couch and was beginning to enjoy the soft breeze from the open living room window. Just as you began to relax, you heard a familiar rumble from your dirt driveway.
You stomach tied in knots as you tried to place the noise. As you were racking your brain, there was a loud knock at the door. You got to your feet and walked over to the door, and you opened it cautiously.
You heart dropped into your stomach at the sight on your door step.
"Sam?"