Sweet Child Of Mine

by Emma Winchester 424

Well howdy Supernatural Fandom! This is my first go at fanfiction, so please be kind. We're all friends here, right? :)

Special thanks and a 1967 Chevy Impala to Jenmm31. Without her support, encouragement, and downright awesomeness, I never would have had the courage to publish. Please go check out her amazing sisfic stories, Growing Up, Winchester Style, and One Day at a Time. And then check out absolutely everything else she's ever written, because she's amazing. THANK YOU JENMM31!

Well, here goes! Please read and review, but above all else, enjoy!

A/N- AU. For the purposes of this story, it takes place during a time when Sam and Dean are getting along, no major obstacles in their way, everything is sailing smoothly.

Dean- 32

Sam- 28

Rated for Language, because, you know, Dean.

Go time was over. Way over. Desperation Time had officially kicked in, and it was already kicking some ass.

The young girl looked down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She didn't want to look up at the other being in the room. None of this seemed real, but they both knew it was too real. She sat in silence for so long, the other one finally cleared his throat. She let out a small sigh as an indication that she knew her time was up.

"Have you made your choice?" he whispered.

"Y-yes. Yes I have," she whispered back.

"You know the risk that comes with this."

"I know."

"And you know what's going to happen to you when this is all over."

"Don't remind me."

"And you still want to go through with this?" he asked cautiously. She raised her head and looked him straight in the eye. Immediately, he knew what her answer was. He had seen that particular look too many times not to know what it meant. She was serious.

"I have to. I have to end this. This is what we do."

"Very well then." He took a deep breath. Not only was there an extreme amount of risk for the girl, he himself wasn't going to be in great shape when their actions were discovered. He shook off the negative thoughts and steeled himself. The girl was right. They had to do something before it was too late. He didn't want to think it was already too late. Please don't be already too late-he prayed desperately. He looked at her, determination in his eyes.

"Alright then. Come here." She stood up and walked over to him. "Do you have everything you might need?"

She patted her pockets. "Fake IDs, the right money, no cell, no car keys."

"And do you have everything I hope to God you don't need?"

She gave him a little snort and a sideways grin. He couldn't help but grin back- she looked so much like her father when she did that. She reached behind her back and pulled out her favorite silver .45 to show him. "I also have silver bullets, rock salt bullets, holy water, and my bulls-eyes."

"That's a ridiculous name for them, you know that, right?" he said, no humor in his voice.

She shrugged. "Hey, when I don't make a bulls-eye with one of them, I'll change the name." He rolled his eyes. She just gave him a smirk back. His face grew serious.

"You need to remember that you cannot tell them anything that will change the course of their lives beyond this one act. If you do, there is no telling what you'll be coming back to. You can only tell them things that won't affect their future decisions."

"What if I accidentally mess up and tell them something I'm not supposed to?"

"I'll be keeping an eye on you-" The girl began to speak, but he held up his hand to stop her. "-from a distance. I'll make sure the conversation doesn't continue."

She snorted. "I can only imagine what kind of hocus pocus you're going to come up with to do that. How long do I have?"

He clenched his jaw, knowing she wasn't going to like the answer. "3 days." He was right.

"3 days?! Are you freaking kidding me?!" she shrieked. A sudden rustling from the room next door made her snap her mouth shut. They both didn't dare to move a muscle for a solid minute. When they felt it was safe, they exhaled sighs of relief. He turned to her, his eyes full of reproach.

"You almost blew it," he admonished.

"Yeah, yeah," she said dismissively. She took a deep breath. "You'll come get me in exactly 3 days in the same location you drop me off in, right?"

"That's right," he said. She gave a short nod. "What time is it?"

He looked at his watch. "Seven a.m."

"Well, no time like the present, right?" she asked cheekily, pleased at herself with her terrible pun.

He glared at her- apparently he did not share her amusement. "Not funny."

"It's a little funny."

"No it isn't."

"Is too."

"Pull it together."

"Right. Sorry. Okay, let's do this."

He reached out, put two fingers on her forehead, and began murmuring in Ancient Aramaic. A sudden rush of wind, a flash of blinding light, and the room was empty.

Dean was getting fed up. They had been on this case for what felt like a lifetime, when in reality, it had only been about a week. This particular demon was wily, and always seemed one step ahead of them. He couldn't, for the life of him, figure out why. And his brother, the Eternal Geek, was no help whatsoever.

Sam was poring over their father's journal, trying to make heads or tails out of what they had been encountering. So far, he was as clueless as Dean, who was lying on his bed in their motel room, staring at the ceiling. Sam surreptitiously glanced at Dean, concerned. He knew Dean hated this feeling -something completely out of his control, the missing piece of the puzzle just out of reach. They had been wracking their brains, going over every note, every book, and every search engine hit they could find, and they were still coming up blank.

Dean finally sat straight up, and threw his pillow at the wall. "Dammit, this is killing me."

Sam sighed, and turned his attention back to the journal. "I know. But there is no point going after it until we know what we're up against and how to kill it."

"Whatever dude. We are going to take a walk and get out of this damn room." He stood up and stretched. "Come on."

Sam just rolled his eyes up at Dean. "I'm working."

"No you're not. Your brain is rotting. I can hear the spiders inside your giant head building their cobwebs. Let's go," he said, gesturing to the door. Sam leaned back in his chair. Maybe a walk would help. He felt like he was grasping at straws, coming up with insane theories that were all less likely than the last. He pushed away from the table and began crossing towards the door, taking care to check Dean on the shoulder as he passed.

"Bitch!"

"Jerk."

Sam opened the door and stepped out with Dean right behind him. The sun was shining brightly. Both boys squinted into the light- they'd both spent the majority of the morning in the fluorescent lights of the motel room, reading notes and websites. Actual sunlight was a bit terrifying. Dean shook off the melancholy and took a couple deep lung fulls of fresh air.

"That's better," he said. "Another couple minutes of your smell, and I was going to have to waste you myself."

"At least I shower on a daily basis," Sam shot back, beginning to walk towards the park across the street from the motel. Dean stopped, shrugged, and then fell in line behind his little brother.

"Alright, now that we're out of that crap hole, let's regroup and go over this again." Sam nodded his assent. "It's definitely a demon."

"Traces of sulfur wherever it goes."

"Right," Dean agreed. "And everything we've tried to use on it doesn't seem to work."

"Silver, iron, or brass doesn't hurt it," Sam said.

"And we can't get close enough to trap it to do an exorcism, much less throw holy water or salt on its ass," Dean said, clenching his jaw.

"Dean, don't you think that's weird? I mean, no other demon is afraid of getting close to us."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Normally they can't wait to get their scaly claws all over this perfection," he said, running his hands down his torso. Sam just rolled his eyes, which Dean didn't appreciate. "Although I understand why it may want to stay away from you."

Sam chose not to rise to Dean's bait. "It's like this thing knows us, knows what we do."

Dean looked at Sam, exasperated. "Seriously? Do you think there is a demon alive who doesn't know what we do? Don't know if you've noticed, Sammy, but we're kinda famous in the underworld."

Sam shook his head. "That's not what I mean. It's like the thing has studied us, you know? It knows how we operate, how we think."

Dean gave him that one and nodded, agreeing. The original case they were pursuing had all the classic rules of a vindictive spirit. A teenager had been killed when he swerved off the road. The other kid that had been in the car who survived, said that they saw a body suddenly standing in the middle of the back road they had been driving down, causing the kid to swerve and plow into a tree. After some research into the family, Dean discovered that the dead teen's grandfather had caused an auto accident back when he was the same age, killing his little brother. And then the kid's father had killed his best friend in a similar car crash. The boys found the body of the original accident victim, salted, and burned it. But apparently, that hadn't been enough.

While they had been watching the corpse burn, the demon appeared before them. Out of nowhere, in the dead of night, it showed up in the graveyard, just staring at them- directly through the funeral pyre. It had taken on the vessel of a young male, around 28, who clearly had come directly from the gym. That was about all they could tell though- the fire made it difficult to discern his facial features. The demon looked curiously at both boys, then gave them a bone chilling grin, and vanished again without so much as a word. Neither Sam nor Dean knew what to make of that. As the days went on, this demon had sought them out, tried to draw them out repeatedly, but wouldn't take them on if it saw both of them together. They had tried splitting apart and setting an ambush, but the second the demon saw Sam closing in for the kill, it abandoned its pursuit of Dean, and vanished in cloud of sulfur.

Sam was staring at the ground, searching for the missing piece of the game. There was something that just wasn't falling into place. This demon was hell bent on getting to the Winchesters, but had such a strong sense of self preservation that it was willing to keep playing this little game of cat-and-mouse until it got what it came for. Sam was concentrating so hard that he was shutting everything else around him out, so he didn't think twice about the sudden gust of wind that came up. And Dean just flat out wasn't paying attention to nature, as usual.

All of the sudden, a figure dropped right in front of them, seemingly out of thin air. Sam almost stepped on it, barely catching himself. The thing had crumpled to the ground from the fall, and it seemed to be breathing hard. Sam grabbed Dean's arm just in time to keep his brother from stepping on it.

"Whoa! What the hell?!" Dean exclaimed when he saw the shape on the ground. He automatically reached for the pistol tucked into the back of his jeans, but then stopped himself. His hunter's eyes scanned the creature. It slowly began to unwind and try to pick itself up. Dean was shocked to see it was just- a girl. He blinked, and shook his head to be sure of what he was seeing. Yes, it was a girl- a teenage girl. She was pretty- She's freaking beautiful, was what Dean actually thought- probably about 14 or 15, about a foot shorter than he was, with long, dark hair that couldn't decide if it wanted to be wavy or straight, and piercing green eyes. She looked like she took care of herself, too. Except at the present moment, when he could hear her swearing under her breath as she stretched out her cramped muscles from the fall and began dusting herself off. Dean shifted his weight so his gun so it was easier to draw on her if need be. Sam threw his brother an incredulous look- he knew that casual shift too well.

"Dude, chill out, she's just a kid," he whispered to his brother.

"How many kids you know fall out of the sky?" Dean growled back. Sam shook his head, and turned to the girl.

"Miss? Are you okay?" he asked gently.

Her head snapped up at the sound of his voice. She had to blink for a few seconds to stop the rush of tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. "Sam?" she said in a small voice. He started, and took a step back. How did this kid know his name? The way she was looking at him, it was like she knew him, knew him clearly and well, but he was sure he had never seen her before this moment.

"Um, yeah...?" He said, not really knowing what to say. The girl's eyes slid over to Dean, and they got even wider. She seemed to be staring directly into his soul, which automatically put Dean on edge.

"Dean?" she whispered. "Dean Winchester?"

Now it was Dean's turn to start. He exchanged a quick glance with Sam, his tension rising. "Yeah. Who are you?"

The girl took a calming breath, and seemed to steel herself by raising her head and snapping her shoulders back. Sam was again caught off guard- there was something familiar about that gesture.

"My name is Natalie. I'm here to help you," the girl said. Both boys just stared at her. The wind blew a gust of leaves in their direction, but nobody moved. Dean finally broke the awkward silence.

"Yeah, okay Skywalker. And where are Chewie and Han?" Dean asked sarcastically.

Sam cleared his throat- Dean was so stupid sometimes, he didn't know why it still surprised him. "Uh, okay, Natalie. What kind of help are you supposed to be giving us?" he said.

"I know you're following a demon, and I know that you can't figure out how to kill it. I'm here to help you finish it off," she said.

"And what makes you think that, kid?" Dean said, his voice rising in volume. He wasn't normally one to yell at kids he didn't even know, but he was freaked out. Not only did this kid show up out of thin air, almost under his feet, now she knew that he and Sam were hunters? And not just that, the fact that they were on a case that they couldn't solve.

"Because I know who you are and what you do. I'm a hunter too," Natalie said.

"Oh, sure you are. Prove it," Dean hissed at her. Natalie just rolled her eyes. Okay, that really threw Dean. This kid clearly knew who he was, so she must know what he was capable of, but she was acting like a teenager being told to hand over her homework for inspection. Sam caught the eye roll too, but he was still more concerned that Dean's itchy trigger finger was going to get this girl hurt.

"Dean, just calm down," Sam whispered.

"No, it's okay. I'll prove who I am," Natalie said to Sam. "First off, can I have the bottle of holy water in your left pocket?" Sam's eyes got wide. How on earth could she know that he always carried holy water in his left pocket? When he didn't move, Natalie said with a smile, "I just want to show you I'm not a demon." Sam reached slowly into his left pocket and withdrew the small flask. Natalie, not missing a beat, said, "Thanks," proceeded to unscrew the top, and splashed herself in the face with the water. She shook the droplets off her face, and screwed the top back on the flask, then offered it back to Sam. Neither brother moved. This was beyond weird.

"And may I have some of the salt in your pants pocket?" She asked, her gaze moving to Dean, and continued to brush the water out of her eyes.

"Okay, seriously, what the hell kid?" Dean growled, the tension in his voice rising. She just held out her hand patiently.

"Dean, give it to her," Sam said quietly.

Dean gave him an annoyed look. Sam just stared back with his intense Just do it gaze. "I don't freaking believe this," Dean grumbled, digging into his pocket. He hurled the small container at her, but she had lighting quick reflexes and caught it easily. She opened it, never taking her eyes off Dean, and threw a handful of salt on her torso.

"See? Not a demon. And no, I'm not a shape shifter." She walked closer to Sam. "Can I borrow your silver knife?" Sam froze- handing the girl salt was one thing, but a knife? Natalie saw the reluctance, and rolled her eyes again. She slowly drew her own silver knife out of her boot- holding it out to them. "Here then, we'll use mine. Do you want to take a look at it first?" she asked, proffering the knife. When neither of them moved, she gave an exasperated sigh, yanked up her left sleeve, and gave herself a cut with the knife. When nothing happened, she slipped the knife back into her boot, and turned to them both with an expectant expression. Sam gave a disbelieving huff.

"Dean- that's exactly how you showed me to you weren't a shape shifter," Sam mumbled. It was all he could think of to say, being still unsure of what was really going on.

"While we're at it," Natalie continued, raising her hands to her top lip and exposing her gums. Sam knew what she was showing him. She had no fangs.

"Okay, so you're human, we get it. Good job. Now tell us who you really are," Dean snarled, losing patience. Natalie took a deep breath, and stepped closer to him. He didn't move at all, despite 32 years of hunter experience screwing with his mind, going haywire.

"Okay, so just hear me out," Natalie said. Dean caught a flicker of fear in her eyes. "I told you I'm here to help you..." she began.

"Yeah, got that part," Dean interrupted. Natalie clenched her jaw and looked him straight in the eye.

"I'm from the future."

"The...future?" Dean stuttered. He didn't like this. He had done some time traveling himself- through no choice of his own, and good very seldom came from it. Sam was just looking quickly back from him to the girl, as if unsure what to do. Join the club, buddy, Dean thought to himself.

"Yes. My name is Natalie...Natalie Winchester."

Dean's face registered shock. Before he could even take a breath, she spoke again, making sure she was looking him straight in the eye.

"I'm your daughter."

Dean shook his head, as if trying to clear the crazy out of it. "Come again?" he said. She exhaled, as if relieved to finally get that off her chest.

"I'm your daughter. I've come back in time to help you on this hunt. I know things about this demon that will help you defeat it," Natalie said as casually as if she had been mentioning that the grass was green. Dean, completely flabbergasted, looked to Sam for help, apparently struck mute. Sam gathered himself, and walked forward slowly, speaking gently, like he would have to a wounded animal encountered on the side of the road. "Um...Natalie? Was it?" She nodded. "I'm sorry, but you're going to have to explain a little better than this," he said.

Natalie snickered. "Look, I'm sorry. I know it's not every day that a kid drops out of the sky and tells you that she's from the future and she's your daughter" looking to Dean, "or your niece," gesturing at Sam, "but that's the God's honest truth." She looked quickly from Sam back to Dean, who still hadn't moved, and then trained her gaze on Sam again. "I know this sounds crazy, but I can help you if you let me."

"Okay, how can you help us?" Sam asked, still speaking gently. She quickly reached into the inside of her coat, and Dean automatically drew his gun in response. Her eyes flicked up, and she froze, then slowly lifted her hands.

"Sorry- my bad. I know better than to move like that. My mistake." She closed her eyes for a moment, silently scolding herself. "Look- I just want to show you this." She continued to move slowly, acting like they were the wounded animals now. She withdrew an old journal- an oh-so-familiar looking old journal. Sam gasped when he realized what it was. He darted forward and snatched it out of her hands and began thumbing through it. Dean took his eyes off Natalie just long enough to check out the journal. He, too, instantly recognized it. He dropped his gun and closed in on the two of them.

"Yep, that's Grandpa's journal," Natalie proudly proclaimed. Both brothers' eyes sought her face, growing even wider at the word Grandpa.

"How did you get this?" Sam asked. "I was just reading this and left it in our room not 2 minutes ago."

"This isn't your journal." Sam stared at her, disbelieving. She tried to amend her statement. "Well, I mean, it IS your journal, but not really."

"What?!"

"This is the journal from my time," she explained, getting frustrated at looking like such a dork trying to explain this. "Look through it. You'll see notes in there that are in your handwriting, but you haven't technically written them yet as of right now." Sam took two seconds to try to process that statement, but then went back to thumbing through the book. Dean looked into Natalie's eyes sternly, determined to get to the bottom of this.

"Fine. You say you're my kid? And you're from the future?" he demanded. She didn't even bat an eyelash. She pursed her lips together like she was trying to suppress a smile.

"Sure am."

"You know future me."

"I know you both better than any person on this planet," she countered. THAT made even Sam break his gaze from the journal. This kid was claiming she knew them both better than they knew each other? That was a stretch. Apparently, Dean shared his assessment.

"Really," he said dryly.

"Uh-huh."

"Then you'd know exactly what I'd ask you about my future self," he said triumphantly, convinced he was about to blow her whole crazy story. Natalie just raised one eyebrow and smirked, just like I do, Dean thought before he could stop himself. He smirked back. There was no way she would be able to figure out what he-

"Yes, Mom is hot."

Dean's jaw hit the ground, but she wasn't done.

"And yes, you still have the Impala."

Dean blinked twice, the information registering in his brain. There was no denying the truth- she had nailed it.

"Holy shit. I'm a dad," he breathed.