Chapter 1: The Arrival

AN: Okay guys, this is the first Fanfic I've ever decided to post, I don't know how long it will be but I'm hoping on posting once a week. I've always loved time travel stories with some Hurt!Sam and some Badass!Sam mixed in so we'll see where this goes. Hope you guys enjoy it and don't forget to R&R.

-GNS-

Waking up on a motel floor with a gun to your head is not particularly comforting, let me tell you. Especially when that gun belongs to your dead father, and you somehow made your way to 1993 overnight.

"Who are you?" His familiar growl doesn't scare me as much as it used to, in fact, the voice seems to ground me for a moment, "And what the hell are you doing in my motel room?" Heh, Hell if I knew, I want to tell him. He looks so much younger than the last time I saw him, and my heart almost hurts with the memory of our last encounter. Can we just stop fighting? Wrinkles are only starting to form at the corner of his eyes, maybe because he never really did smile that much, and his salt and pepper hair is still so much more pepper than salt. I start to wonder if he knows about it yet, about Yellow Eyes' plan and the demon blood. The thought settles uneasily in my stomach. My skin starts to crawl and I feel the sudden urge to scrub it clean.

Slowly, I bring my hands up in a mock surrender, "I'm Sam, Sam Wesson." The lie flows easily off my tongue from years of practice and I want to scream at him. You taught me how to lie like that! He cocks his head to the side as if considering what I've told him. He doesn't lower the gun. Never trust anyone echoes in the back of my mind.

"Great, now let's get to the part where you tell me why you're on my floor." He shifts the gun to have a better shot at my head. There's always a fair amount of adrenaline running through you when you stare down the barrel of a gun, I've noticed.

"I don't know," I sigh, eyes scanning the room quickly for remnants of past hunts, for some story to formulate, they land on dad's journal, lying on the side table and open to the page on Wendigoes. "I came up here looking for a Wendigo to hunt and next thing I know," I gesture to the room quickly, before letting my hands fall back into my lap.

"You're a hunter." Dad states simply, it wasn't a question. The knowledge doesn't seem to bring him any comfort, if anything his eyes go a little darker. But he seems satisfied enough and tucks his weapon into the back of his jeans.

"You could say that," I settle on, shifting where I sat and standing up. I got a head rush from the sudden change in altitude. (Go ahead, laugh it up.) I stumble before stabling myself on the wall next to me. My father's hands twitch slightly as if he was thinking about helping me for a moment, but only slightly. I act like I didn't notice and he acts like it never happened. We've got an understanding of each other already, it seems.

I smile one of my bright, shit eating grins, the one I use on old ladies and little girls during cases, and hold out my hand. "Looks like we got off on the wrong foot, literally" I joke, dimples digging into my cheeks, "Sam Wesson, and you are?"

"Winchester," He grunts, clasping my hand in his own, "John Winchester." It's with my hands engulfing his that I realized at thirty I'm closer to my father's age than my own brother. That's also when I realized I have no idea where my brother is, or I am, for that matter.

"Pleased to meet you… John," I say eyes landing on the duffle holding Dean's clothes spilling out onto the floor. "You have a son?" I ask.

"Sons." He corrects, nodding to the second, neater duffle on the other side of the room. My own clothes tucked inside from when I was much younger, and much smaller. I choke down a laugh.

"Where are they at?" I wonder, shifting from one foot to the other, trying my best not to look suspicious.

"School." Dad says, and if I thought his eyes were dark before, well, now they were black holes sucking in all light.

"Ahh." I sigh. Sitting on the edge of one of the beds. It creaks underneath me.

"Where're you from?" John asks, and I try to ignore the metal in his words. His eyes are silently calculating. Adding up what he knows with what he thinks he knows. Looking back now I wonder if he thought I was a threat, or just some crazed drunk who just happened to show up in their room and pass out on their floor. To tell you the truth, I was hoping it wasn't the latter.

"South Dakota." The lie comes easily. Besides, I had spent more days at Bobby's house as a kid than anywhere else. "But I've been around quite a bit."

"South Dakota," He repeats, "Ever heard of Singer?"

"Bobby Singer? I've heard of him, sure. Wouldn't be surprised if he had never heard of me though. I keep to myself."

John glares, "That right?"

Of course this is the moment that Dean decides to throw the motel room door open with a look of pure terror on his face. John turns around lightning fast and I jump up from where I was seated on the bed.

"Dean!" Dad growls, "What are you doing? You're supposed to be at school! If you ditch another day they'll start asking questions." He explains, his face marred with confusion. Not so mad that he's missing school, more so the fact that he could be caught missing school. His face goes cold with the next words out of his son's mouth.

"Sammy," He gasps, gulping for air as if he had ran the whole way back to the motel. I start to wonder if maybe he did. His chest is heaving, his face is pale as a sheet, and his freckles stick out like pin points. For a single solidary moment I think that he's talking about me. That he knows who I am. That some strange sixth sense told him to come running and find me. That feeling fades as quickly as it came. Childlike embarrassment is left in its place as I fight to keep my cheeks from going red. This Dean is only fourteen, five foot eight with eyes too big for his face and he doesn't even know me.

"Sammy…" Dean repeats like he doesn't quite believe what he's trying to say. As if the world is imploding around him and that single name is his only lifeline. I would be flattered if he didn't look so God damned terrified. "He's gone, he just disappeared into thin air. He's gone." John's face goes white and suddenly all eyes are on me.

-GNS-

AN2: Hope you guys liked it! I don't have a Beta so please don't be mad if there are some mistakes… I think the next chapter will probably be out by next week! Please comment if you want, I'd love some feedback!