My fingers gripped the seat as Metallica blared in my ears. I couldn't hear the words over my pounding heart, and the possible scenarios playing through in my head.  Basically, they all end the same, I die.  A slow painful death.  I tried to appear calm, however, I was failing miserably.  The seat belt light was off but I was strapped in tight. 

My eyes darted around a few people gave me weird looks. I might have been dressed bad ass but the fear on my face made me look the exact opposite. Okay, that was a lie, I wasn't dressed badass, more like a bum, but either way, I had lost any indication that I was, in fact, a strong brave young woman. 

A light poke on my shoulder made me pull me out my headphones. To my right sat a slim boy, freckles covering his face like sprinkles on a cupcake. His eyes were brown, and his hair was an auburn mop on his head. He had thin lips and a hooked nose. This boy was Tyson Maverick. He was 5'8 were as I stood about 5'8 and a half.  I was tall suppose it came from my dad's side. My mother's side nobody got taller than 5'6. 

When I attended family reunions I stood as a skyscraper. My cousins avoided talking to me unless I was sitting down because it hurt there necks to look up. There were a few selective young cousins who often asked to sit on my shoulders so they could view the world from up high. I didn't mind it was the only thing my height was good for. Besides being able to reach the top shelf, and the ability to screw in a light bulb without a chair.

Tyson had been my best friend for what seemed like forever. We were more like family than regular friends.  He was like the brother I never wanted. That's a lie, I've always wanted a sibling and he was close I had to one. Although he was annoying and I wanted nothing more than to strangle him most of the time.

"Your shaking," Ty tells me. As if I didn't already know. I was on the verge of hyperventilating. My chest burned and it felt as if my heart dropped to my stomach, "I can't believe it, Winchester, you afraid of heights! Of all things! Are your listening to Metallica really? "

"It keeps me calm now shut it!" Was the best comeback I could manage at the moment, For my eyes had already met his phone, "Did you have that on when the plane took off?! You could cause the plane to crash!"

I was quite alarmed everyone knows your supposed to turn them off. The flight attendant made it very clear as did the captain over the speakers.  "Don't tell me you really believe that! Everyone knows that it's just a myth!"

Tyson was an idjit even on his good days. Although he was afraid of small things like spiders and jumped a million times during scary movies, he wasn't afraid of heights. A since I was, he made sure to use it to his full advantage. When on a fairs-wheel, even though it says don't rock, its exactly what he does. 

A that's why I hate carnivals. Never will I attend one with him again. He nudges me when were for example on the top of a tall building. I was about to yell at him some more but stopped when the whole plane shuttered. Nobody seemed to give it a second thought. I, however, started a series of 'Oh My God's' in my head. 

Tyson must have seen my face go pale and my fingers claw deeper into the seat. For he took this opportunity to try and scare me, "That doesn't sound too good Mary," he said slowly, using my middle name, "That could be engine failure, or maybe the pilot passed out in the cockpit and nobodies flying the plane." 

If we were in any other scenery I would have gone full on Ninja Turtle and kicked his ass. He went on saying all the scenarios I had previously been imagining and voiced them.  To block him out I returned the headphones to my ears and sunk into the loud ear busting music which helped ease my trembling.

He was still moving his mouth attempting to pull out my earbuds, "I think we might actually crash," He said. I punched his arm hard my knuckles popping in the process. A flight attends past by offering us snacks. 

I refused for I knew I wasn't in the mood to stomach anything. I'd regret it when the plane landed and I'd be extremely hungry. I'd debated taking a nap but then the thought waking up to a going down plane made me keep my eyes open.

Tyson why rubbed his sore shoulder, "Next time we're driving," I said to him. 

"With what car?" he said narrowing his eyes. I couldn't afford a car, and because of me Tyson's was totaled. 

"I'm sorry," I offered. I really wasn't mainly because it wasn't my fault.

The plane shuttered again it was only slightly. I hated flying. This wasn't the first time I'd been on a plane, but it sure as hell would be the last.  Especially with Tyson who started to shake me violently, "Mayday! MAYDAY!"

"This may just be your last day!" I hissed. He just fell back in his seat chuckling. I sunk deeper in my mine hating him, the planes, and my fear of planes. Of all things, I had to suffer from the terror of anything that took my feet off the ground. 

------

At some point, I had dozed off despite my intentions not to. My dreams where just an endless sea of darkness and the soft lyrics of Black Sabbath.  I was woken by Tyson dropping my carry on in my lap. I groaned relief washing over me as I discovered we had landed.  I almost did a happy dance but was too sore to even try. The seats were not very comfortable, nothing about planes were comfortable. 

I popped a couple bones, something a little unpleasant and followed the herd off the death trap. Tyson was about four people ahead of me. I wrapped up my dangling headphones before stuffing them in my bag. The plane had a sort of weird smell to it. I didn't pay much attention, I knew if I did it just get worse.

The airport was rather packed.  What normal person travels on a Tuesday? I mean it is summer but still, Tuesday is such an awkward day. Then again I had flown here today. Mainly because driving and walking were both out of the question.

I could no longer see Tyson but I was sure he made a beeline to pick up our luggage's. An I unlike him had more important matters to attend to. My growling stomach. I started towards the food court. Pushing past people murmuring things that they probably thought was 'excuse me' but was really just me making noises.

I was sure Ty would figure out where I had run off to. We had an understanding. If I go missing I'm most likely where there's pie, if he's missing he'll be anywhere there's something extremely geeky. Like the library or those place that sell old movie action figures.

It took longer than I'd liked to reach the food court. I moved quickly getting in one of the lines that weren't too long. I was too hungry to read the sign to even figure where I was or even what they sold. I knew I'd have to find Tyson something to eat. He was a vegetarian ('Gerbil' as I called them) and ate food I tend to avoid.

Vegetables weren't my thing, not that I don't force down a salad every once in awhile. I was a bacon, pie, fries person. To simplify I wasn't a healthy eater and anything grease was for me. Which was probably why I was kind of chubby. Not to mention my thighs were massive. 

I wasn't a skinny model with flawless looks. However, if you brought up the 'flaws' in my looks, I would kill you. My hair was a dirty blonde, that was knotted and tangled on my head. I had a tendency to lose my brush and do not care. My eyes were green, I was told the same color as my fathers.

My lips appeared as if they were swollen, and my nose was slightly crooked(from having it broken in my fair share of fights). I wasn't the prettiest flower in the garden actually I was more of a weed. The line moved slowly but eventually, I made it to the counter. The words were out of my mouth before the woman could speak.

"Do you sell pie?" This was a common question of mine. It was right next to, 'Where's my phone?' and 'Are you from Tennessee?' Which I then lamely add, 'Cause your the only ten I see.' I wasn't the best flirt, to say the least, but hey a girl gotta try.

My aunt had told me my father was a player and could pick up pretty much any girl he wanted. 'Thanks dad for not passing down any useful genes' I thought to myself adding,  'at least you gave me sarcasm, something so useful I'm surprised someone hasn't killed me yet!'

"No sorry we do have cake," she says. She gestured to the cakes at which looked delicious but how can you have cake and not pie!

I frowned, "I'll have a bacon cheeseburger, curly fries, and a salad to go, along with two Mountain dew's one diet one regular, make them large."

I voiced this pulling a couple crumbled dollars from my jeans. I dropped a few useless pennies at which I didn't bother to be down and get. Tyson is right, I get lazier by the day. After paying I waited patiently for my order standing off to the side. It was late midday, it looked like I'd have to search tomorrow.  I wondered why Tyson hadn't found me yet. My guess was he was waiting for me to find him. 

The food was done in about ten minutes, not exactly fast food in my opinion. I carried the two paper bags in one hand, and the drinks in the other. Before I was out the food court I smelled the horrible smell again. It was the same smell as on the plane.

I raised the bag of food smelling it. The odd oder defiantly wasn't the food. Even if it was I'd probably eat it anyway. Yes, I am that hungry. Instead of going towards the last place I saw Tyson I went to the exit. My combat boots scuffing the tile as I shuffled to the doors. The outside air was warm in Kansas and I took it in happily. Even though I knew I'd hate it in a few minutes when I started sweating a river. Taking a seat on a bench outside I pulled out my bacon burger shoving as much as possible in my mouth.

I knew if Tyson could see me he'd shake his head and tell me of the risk of choking.Which I usually reply to with 'Well its a good thing you know the himelick.' While I chewed in a unladylike manner I texted Ty telling him to meet me outside. He didn't reply but it showed he read it. Waiting I ate and adjusted my shoulder bag which had been my carry on. It was black leather,  band pin logos covered it in mutable places.

Finishing my burger and a couple fries I wipe my greasy fingers on my sweatpants. Opening my bag I reaching inside digging out my notebook. What had became a routine I turning to the last page I wrote in. I then began to read the information over again. Lawrence, Kansas was printed at the top under it was the address and a photo of the house. Not just any but his. My fathers, at least it used to be. From what I could gather he, his father, and his brother left after a fire in which killed his mother.

I guess it was another thing me and my father had in common. We both were motherless, the difference is he had another family to rely on. He still had his brother and his dad. Me I had no siblings, I had Tyson but it wasn't completely the same thing. My mothers side of the family hated me. They treated me more like an unwanted burden than family. I had no mother, and a father who left me was presumed dead, only to pop back up and then become dead again.

Tyson says I'm chasing a ghost, but I know Dean Winchester is not dead.  I can just feel it. Besides if you can convince the world your dead once you can do it again.  I had to find him, not only did I need answers but I need to look him in the eyes and have him see me. The daughter he had abandoned, the mess up school dropout. The failure on my mother's side of the family. He needs to see that he left me and wasn't there to help me through rough times. He wasn't there to be a father that I need, the parent he was responsible to be. 

Tyson appeared holding two suitcases and a bag of his own. His face was almost pale and he looked rather confused, "Hunter?" He said his voice soft. My name was an odd one. I had been named after my great-grandfather on my mom's side. My middle name Mary came from my father's mother and of course, my last name came from my father as well. 

I raised an eyebrow, "You okay?" I asked. He had broken into a light sweat.

"I...I'm find just blackout a second, so you ready to go?" I nodded holding up the bag containing his salad.

"Got you something to eat," I offered him the bag which he took hesitantly, "It's not too long of a walk to the nearest motel, will leave when you are done."

Usually, I would make him walk and eat. Multitasking is a useful skill, and its great to exercises it. However, he looked like he needs to sit down a moment. Besides I need to make sure I didn't miss anything.

Pulling out my phone I researched more on my father. Although I had read everything more times than I could count I need to make sure I didn't miss anything. Besides reading all the felonies and such made me feel slightly better.

At least I wasn't the biggest mess up on his side of the family.

It was then I realized the smell was back. It smelled familiar now that I think of it. Nervous I played with the charm hanging from my necklace. Fiddling with it for a moment I looked to Tyson, something was wrong.  Where did I know this smell from?

------

The motel was small and cramped. The walls were covered in a pealing green wallpaper. Strange stains made me shudder. This wasn't the first time I'd stayed in a motel but that didn't change the unease about this one. I had dropped my stuff on the bed closest to the door. 

The sheets matched the wall a puke green. The small refrigerate that sat in the corner held nothing more than a few bottles of water. I decided I'd go later to get some snacks from the store down the street. The room was humid the broken air-conditioner made odd clicking noises.  

The smell from the plane, and airport lingered. I had convinced myself it was me and that I need a shower. Taking a set of clothes from my bag I parted with Tyson who decided to go to bed. The bathroom was the most questionable place in the motel.  It was disgusting but it also could be worse. The door handle was broken so it didn't lock. 

The walls were a dirty white tile, that was cracked in several places. It was almost like it was on the verge of crumbling. It was no wonder it was so cheap. It was wasn't as bad as some of the other places I'd had stayed.

Turning on the water, I tried to get it the right temperature. After a couple moments and me failing I got up. Setting my folded clothes on the counter with my towel I stared at my reflection. My hair was tied up in a tangled ponytail. The black smuggest of makeup smeared my face mainly around my eyes. 

It made me look tired and almost like I'd went through a traumatic breakup. The ones from the cliche chick flick that I really enjoy but would never admit to anyone. I won't lie I was a sap underneath the black leather.

Wiping away the makeup I noticed I was pale. The only color was my slightly sunburned ears and cheeks. I was like Casper covered in baby powder.  Although I was a dirty blonde you couldn't tell for my hair was browner than anything. A strand had caught itself in one of my snakebite piercings.

I hadn't noticed but my nose ring was no longer in its usual place. It must have fallen out, I would need to get my spare. Despite me, flaw-filled face I had remarkable green eyes. The one and the only thing I could thank my father for. Before I got in the shower I removed my necklace setting it on the counter. I'd had it since before I could remember. I pulled off the silver ring that had been my mothers.

I paused a moment thinking about her, something I tried to do as little as possible. I can't explain how she died. I could only hope my father could answer that. He was there, it was the first and last time I'd seen him.

Shaking away the distant memory I stepped into the rushing water. It was cold, the hot water didn't seem to wanna work. Besides for the water, the place was silent. I hummed to myself 'Carry on My Wayward' by Kansas. 

It was one of my favorite songs. I used to have the cassette tape until Tyson broke. Gladly he bought me a CD of it.  Which I listen to in his car every day until he no longer had a car. Now I just listen to it on my phone.However, it wasn't the same.

The sound of the bathroom door creaking open made me shut my mouth. Listening I could see the shadow of who I presumed was Tyson, "Ty?" I asked, "You need something?"

Peeking out from behind the green shower curtain I was surprised to find no one. Frowning my eyebrows I began to wash my hair. I must be tired or maybe the stressful flight had made me start to see things.

After my shower, I dressed in some red plaid pajama pants and some old band t-shirt. Ty slept soundly his face buried into a pillow. It barely muffled his loud annoying snores. I shook him slightly, "Gonna go to the store," I tell him.

He mumbled something that I couldn't make out. However, if I had to guess it was along the lines of 'I don't care'. The sun was down and as I grabbed some cash I notice the smell was still in the Motel. Shrugging it off I continued outside.

It had cooled down only slightly, and the streets had become a minim of a few cars and random people who stood outside to take a smoke. The stars where out reminding me of the glow in the dark stickers I had on my ceiling as a child. The store was only a five minutes walk from the motel. It those minutes I notice the smell was gone. 

Which led me to believe that it was most likely Tyson. I'd spray air fresher on him when I got back. Of course, I'd need to buy some first. Adding that to my mental list I paused watching a couple cars passed. I couldn't help but wonder if my father had stood where I was now.

I mean he did live here. Pushing some strands of wet hair from my face. The street lights flickered and I froze midway into crossing the street. I felt the hairs on my arm stand up. I had a sudden feeling that something was about to go wrong. I ignored it, something I should probably stop doing.

It didn't take long to arrive at the store. A woman sat at the counter she gave me a sideways smile as I walked in. The unease feeling had faded and been replaced with the desire to stuff my face with a pie.

I had an unhealthy obsession. Grabbing a cherry pie I began to hum 'she's my cherry pie...' I then took a twelve pack of code red mountain dew. The thought dawned on me that maybe this whole thing was crazy.Running away to Kansas,  in search of a man who possibly an impossible person to track. It gave me a headache thinking about how little I have and how long of a road I had ahead.

The possibility of finding Dean Winchester was one and a gazillion. However there is still a chance, and besides, I had nothing better to do. Setting the Pie and Soda on the counter I threw in a couple bags of gummy bears and beef jerky.

"Hey darlin' haven't seen you around here before," The woman tells me. She looked to be in her late thirties.

"Oh, I'm just visiting a couple friends," I tell her. Lies came easy spilling off my lips like water. I'd been told both of my parents had been an excellent liars. Most won't consider lying a talent but since I have so little few talents I consider lying one of my tops. 

"How long are you staying?" She asked.

"Not long just a couple days," I said casually.

"Well I'm Holly Wither and it was nice to meet you," she says after she rang up the items.

She was a ginger with brown eyes and enough freckles to make her face an orange-brown color. Her red lipstick was smeared on her front tooth. I felt like I should say something but didn't want to embarrass her.

"I'm Mary Maverick and it was nice meeting you as well," I rarely use my first name it was sort of an instinct of mine. I liked it better if people didn't know who I was. Hunter Winchester might not go through well.

My father had been a wanted murder before he had been confirmed dead. A from experience the last name Winchester was a sign for crazy. I was looked at as a freak at school. I couldn't have friends because all the adults in my old neighborhood told their kids not to hang around me.

I was treated like a ticking time bomb. At any moment that Winchester will explode and become an ax murder or something. My reputation for being short-tempered and a troublemaker only seemed to prove a point. 'The Winchester name is cursed!' I heard many times. Along with, 'That Winchester girl is trouble, she already started in her father's footsteps, and we all know where those lead!'

I can't say I believed being a Winchester was a bad thing. And although I didn't know my father I didn't believe he was a murder. However, I did agree that I wasn't on a good path. I dropped out of school, had been arrested mutable times, and put one no two people in the hospital.

It didn't take a genius to see with a record like that, I wouldn't amount to much. I mean if truly tried I might have a chance but knowing me I'd mess up that chance. I did a quick exit. My desperation to get back to the motel and stuff my face made me move fast.

Its kind of sad food is one of the only things that motivate me.  From walking faster to getting up in the morning, it was all for food and a little because I had to use the bathroom.  The street had suddenly became empty. There were about two people out from what I could see but other than that it was deserted.

Clinching the plastic bag and the twelve pack I crossed the street.  The box of soda cut into the fingers. Using my knee I attempted to adjust it. Pausing for a moment I frowned at the fact my nose started to itch.  The street lights all flickered again before the one over me busted sending fragments of glass down at me.

A squeak escaped my lips just as the twelve pack box ripped. Cans smashed against the sidewalk. The liquid sprayed making an almost hissing sound. "Son of a bitch!" I cursed. Before I could react much, I was grabbed from behind. I nearly scream but a cold hand covered my mouth. The smell filled my nostrils,  and I noticed it sorta smelled like rotten eggs.

"Your defiantly the easiest Winchester to catch," the familiar voice filled my ears.

Confusion suddenly overwhelmed me along with anger, "Tyson?" My voice was muffled so it came out more like, 'Tiphssin'. The only thing that was running through my head was 'What kind of annoying joke was Tyson playing!'

I wish I had known this wasn't Tyson.

My fingers gripped the seat as Metallica blared in my ears. I couldn't hear the words over my pounding heart, and the possible scenarios playing through in my head.  Basically, they all end the same, I die.  A slow painful death.  I tried to appear calm, however, I was failing miserably.  The seat belt light was off but I was strapped in tight. 

My eyes darted around a few people gave me weird looks. I might have been dressed bad ass but the fear on my face made me look the exact opposite. Okay, that was a lie, I wasn't dressed badass, more like a bum, but either way, I had lost any indication that I was, in fact, a strong brave young woman. 

A light poke on my shoulder made me pull me out my headphones. To my right sat a slim boy, freckles covering his face like sprinkles on a cupcake. His eyes were brown, and his hair was an auburn mop on his head. He had thin lips and a hooked nose. This boy was Tyson Maverick. He was 5'8 were as I stood about 5'8 and a half.  I was tall suppose it came from my dad's side. My mother's side nobody got taller than 5'6. 

When I attended family reunions I stood as a skyscraper. My cousins avoided talking to me unless I was sitting down because it hurt there necks to look up. There were a few selective young cousins who often asked to sit on my shoulders so they could view the world from up high. I didn't mind it was the only thing my height was good for. Besides being able to reach the top shelf, and the ability to screw in a light bulb without a chair.

Tyson had been my best friend for what seemed like forever. We were more like family than regular friends.  He was like the brother I never wanted. That's a lie, I've always wanted a sibling and he was close I had to one. Although he was annoying and I wanted nothing more than to strangle him most of the time.

"Your shaking," Ty tells me. As if I didn't already know. I was on the verge of hyperventilating. My chest burned and it felt as if my heart dropped to my stomach, "I can't believe it, Winchester, you afraid of heights! Of all things! Are your listening to Metallica really? "

"It keeps me calm now shut it!" Was the best comeback I could manage at the moment, For my eyes had already met his phone, "Did you have that on when the plane took off?! You could cause the plane to crash!"

I was quite alarmed everyone knows your supposed to turn them off. The flight attendant made it very clear as did the captain over the speakers.  "Don't tell me you really believe that! Everyone knows that it's just a myth!"

Tyson was an idjit even on his good days. Although he was afraid of small things like spiders and jumped a million times during scary movies, he wasn't afraid of heights. A since I was, he made sure to use it to his full advantage. When on a fairs-wheel, even though it says don't rock, its exactly what he does. 

A that's why I hate carnivals. Never will I attend one with him again. He nudges me when were for example on the top of a tall building. I was about to yell at him some more but stopped when the whole plane shuttered. Nobody seemed to give it a second thought. I, however, started a series of 'Oh My God's' in my head. 

Tyson must have seen my face go pale and my fingers claw deeper into the seat. For he took this opportunity to try and scare me, "That doesn't sound too good Mary," he said slowly, using my middle name, "That could be engine failure, or maybe the pilot passed out in the cockpit and nobodies flying the plane." 

If we were in any other scenery I would have gone full on Ninja Turtle and kicked his ass. He went on saying all the scenarios I had previously been imagining and voiced them.  To block him out I returned the headphones to my ears and sunk into the loud ear busting music which helped ease my trembling.

He was still moving his mouth attempting to pull out my earbuds, "I think we might actually crash," He said. I punched his arm hard my knuckles popping in the process. A flight attends past by offering us snacks. 

I refused for I knew I wasn't in the mood to stomach anything. I'd regret it when the plane landed and I'd be extremely hungry. I'd debated taking a nap but then the thought waking up to a going down plane made me keep my eyes open.

Tyson why rubbed his sore shoulder, "Next time we're driving," I said to him. 

"With what car?" he said narrowing his eyes. I couldn't afford a car, and because of me Tyson's was totaled. 

"I'm sorry," I offered. I really wasn't mainly because it wasn't my fault.

The plane shuttered again it was only slightly. I hated flying. This wasn't the first time I'd been on a plane, but it sure as hell would be the last.  Especially with Tyson who started to shake me violently, "Mayday! MAYDAY!"

"This may just be your last day!" I hissed. He just fell back in his seat chuckling. I sunk deeper in my mine hating him, the planes, and my fear of planes. Of all things, I had to suffer from the terror of anything that took my feet off the ground. 

------

At some point, I had dozed off despite my intentions not to. My dreams where just an endless sea of darkness and the soft lyrics of Black Sabbath.  I was woken by Tyson dropping my carry on in my lap. I groaned relief washing over me as I discovered we had landed.  I almost did a happy dance but was too sore to even try. The seats were not very comfortable, nothing about planes were comfortable. 

I popped a couple bones, something a little unpleasant and followed the herd off the death trap. Tyson was about four people ahead of me. I wrapped up my dangling headphones before stuffing them in my bag. The plane had a sort of weird smell to it. I didn't pay much attention, I knew if I did it just get worse.

The airport was rather packed.  What normal person travels on a Tuesday? I mean it is summer but still, Tuesday is such an awkward day. Then again I had flown here today. Mainly because driving and walking were both out of the question.

I could no longer see Tyson but I was sure he made a beeline to pick up our luggage's. An I unlike him had more important matters to attend to. My growling stomach. I started towards the food court. Pushing past people murmuring things that they probably thought was 'excuse me' but was really just me making noises.

I was sure Ty would figure out where I had run off to. We had an understanding. If I go missing I'm most likely where there's pie, if he's missing he'll be anywhere there's something extremely geeky. Like the library or those place that sell old movie action figures.

It took longer than I'd liked to reach the food court. I moved quickly getting in one of the lines that weren't too long. I was too hungry to read the sign to even figure where I was or even what they sold. I knew I'd have to find Tyson something to eat. He was a vegetarian ('Gerbil' as I called them) and ate food I tend to avoid.

Vegetables weren't my thing, not that I don't force down a salad every once in awhile. I was a bacon, pie, fries person. To simplify I wasn't a healthy eater and anything grease was for me. Which was probably why I was kind of chubby. Not to mention my thighs were massive. 

I wasn't a skinny model with flawless looks. However, if you brought up the 'flaws' in my looks, I would kill you. My hair was a dirty blonde, that was knotted and tangled on my head. I had a tendency to lose my brush and do not care. My eyes were green, I was told the same color as my fathers.

My lips appeared as if they were swollen, and my nose was slightly crooked(from having it broken in my fair share of fights). I wasn't the prettiest flower in the garden actually I was more of a weed. The line moved slowly but eventually, I made it to the counter. The words were out of my mouth before the woman could speak.

"Do you sell pie?" This was a common question of mine. It was right next to, 'Where's my phone?' and 'Are you from Tennessee?' Which I then lamely add, 'Cause your the only ten I see.' I wasn't the best flirt, to say the least, but hey a girl gotta try.

My aunt had told me my father was a player and could pick up pretty much any girl he wanted. 'Thanks dad for not passing down any useful genes' I thought to myself adding,  'at least you gave me sarcasm, something so useful I'm surprised someone hasn't killed me yet!'

"No sorry we do have cake," she says. She gestured to the cakes at which looked delicious but how can you have cake and not pie!

I frowned, "I'll have a bacon cheeseburger, curly fries, and a salad to go, along with two Mountain dew's one diet one regular, make them large."

I voiced this pulling a couple crumbled dollars from my jeans. I dropped a few useless pennies at which I didn't bother to be down and get. Tyson is right, I get lazier by the day. After paying I waited patiently for my order standing off to the side. It was late midday, it looked like I'd have to search tomorrow.  I wondered why Tyson hadn't found me yet. My guess was he was waiting for me to find him. 

The food was done in about ten minutes, not exactly fast food in my opinion. I carried the two paper bags in one hand, and the drinks in the other. Before I was out the food court I smelled the horrible smell again. It was the same smell as on the plane.

I raised the bag of food smelling it. The odd oder defiantly wasn't the food. Even if it was I'd probably eat it anyway. Yes, I am that hungry. Instead of going towards the last place I saw Tyson I went to the exit. My combat boots scuffing the tile as I shuffled to the doors. The outside air was warm in Kansas and I took it in happily. Even though I knew I'd hate it in a few minutes when I started sweating a river. Taking a seat on a bench outside I pulled out my bacon burger shoving as much as possible in my mouth.

I knew if Tyson could see me he'd shake his head and tell me of the risk of choking.Which I usually reply to with 'Well its a good thing you know the himelick.' While I chewed in a unladylike manner I texted Ty telling him to meet me outside. He didn't reply but it showed he read it. Waiting I ate and adjusted my shoulder bag which had been my carry on. It was black leather,  band pin logos covered it in mutable places.

Finishing my burger and a couple fries I wipe my greasy fingers on my sweatpants. Opening my bag I reaching inside digging out my notebook. What had became a routine I turning to the last page I wrote in. I then began to read the information over again. Lawrence, Kansas was printed at the top under it was the address and a photo of the house. Not just any but his. My fathers, at least it used to be. From what I could gather he, his father, and his brother left after a fire in which killed his mother.

I guess it was another thing me and my father had in common. We both were motherless, the difference is he had another family to rely on. He still had his brother and his dad. Me I had no siblings, I had Tyson but it wasn't completely the same thing. My mothers side of the family hated me. They treated me more like an unwanted burden than family. I had no mother, and a father who left me was presumed dead, only to pop back up and then become dead again.

Tyson says I'm chasing a ghost, but I know Dean Winchester is not dead.  I can just feel it. Besides if you can convince the world your dead once you can do it again.  I had to find him, not only did I need answers but I need to look him in the eyes and have him see me. The daughter he had abandoned, the mess up school dropout. The failure on my mother's side of the family. He needs to see that he left me and wasn't there to help me through rough times. He wasn't there to be a father that I need, the parent he was responsible to be. 

Tyson appeared holding two suitcases and a bag of his own. His face was almost pale and he looked rather confused, "Hunter?" He said his voice soft. My name was an odd one. I had been named after my great-grandfather on my mom's side. My middle name Mary came from my father's mother and of course, my last name came from my father as well. 

I raised an eyebrow, "You okay?" I asked. He had broken into a light sweat.

"I...I'm find just blackout a second, so you ready to go?" I nodded holding up the bag containing his salad.

"Got you something to eat," I offered him the bag which he took hesitantly, "It's not too long of a walk to the nearest motel, will leave when you are done."

Usually, I would make him walk and eat. Multitasking is a useful skill, and its great to exercises it. However, he looked like he needs to sit down a moment. Besides I need to make sure I didn't miss anything.

Pulling out my phone I researched more on my father. Although I had read everything more times than I could count I need to make sure I didn't miss anything. Besides reading all the felonies and such made me feel slightly better.

At least I wasn't the biggest mess up on his side of the family.

It was then I realized the smell was back. It smelled familiar now that I think of it. Nervous I played with the charm hanging from my necklace. Fiddling with it for a moment I looked to Tyson, something was wrong.  Where did I know this smell from?

------

The motel was small and cramped. The walls were covered in a pealing green wallpaper. Strange stains made me shudder. This wasn't the first time I'd stayed in a motel but that didn't change the unease about this one. I had dropped my stuff on the bed closest to the door. 

The sheets matched the wall a puke green. The small refrigerate that sat in the corner held nothing more than a few bottles of water. I decided I'd go later to get some snacks from the store down the street. The room was humid the broken air-conditioner made odd clicking noises.  

The smell from the plane, and airport lingered. I had convinced myself it was me and that I need a shower. Taking a set of clothes from my bag I parted with Tyson who decided to go to bed. The bathroom was the most questionable place in the motel.  It was disgusting but it also could be worse. The door handle was broken so it didn't lock. 

The walls were a dirty white tile, that was cracked in several places. It was almost like it was on the verge of crumbling. It was no wonder it was so cheap. It was wasn't as bad as some of the other places I'd had stayed.

Turning on the water, I tried to get it the right temperature. After a couple moments and me failing I got up. Setting my folded clothes on the counter with my towel I stared at my reflection. My hair was tied up in a tangled ponytail. The black smuggest of makeup smeared my face mainly around my eyes. 

It made me look tired and almost like I'd went through a traumatic breakup. The ones from the cliche chick flick that I really enjoy but would never admit to anyone. I won't lie I was a sap underneath the black leather.

Wiping away the makeup I noticed I was pale. The only color was my slightly sunburned ears and cheeks. I was like Casper covered in baby powder.  Although I was a dirty blonde you couldn't tell for my hair was browner than anything. A strand had caught itself in one of my snakebite piercings.

I hadn't noticed but my nose ring was no longer in its usual place. It must have fallen out, I would need to get my spare. Despite me, flaw-filled face I had remarkable green eyes. The one and the only thing I could thank my father for. Before I got in the shower I removed my necklace setting it on the counter. I'd had it since before I could remember. I pulled off the silver ring that had been my mothers.

I paused a moment thinking about her, something I tried to do as little as possible. I can't explain how she died. I could only hope my father could answer that. He was there, it was the first and last time I'd seen him.

Shaking away the distant memory I stepped into the rushing water. It was cold, the hot water didn't seem to wanna work. Besides for the water, the place was silent. I hummed to myself 'Carry on My Wayward' by Kansas. 

It was one of my favorite songs. I used to have the cassette tape until Tyson broke. Gladly he bought me a CD of it.  Which I listen to in his car every day until he no longer had a car. Now I just listen to it on my phone.However, it wasn't the same.

The sound of the bathroom door creaking open made me shut my mouth. Listening I could see the shadow of who I presumed was Tyson, "Ty?" I asked, "You need something?"

Peeking out from behind the green shower curtain I was surprised to find no one. Frowning my eyebrows I began to wash my hair. I must be tired or maybe the stressful flight had made me start to see things.

After my shower, I dressed in some red plaid pajama pants and some old band t-shirt. Ty slept soundly his face buried into a pillow. It barely muffled his loud annoying snores. I shook him slightly, "Gonna go to the store," I tell him.

He mumbled something that I couldn't make out. However, if I had to guess it was along the lines of 'I don't care'. The sun was down and as I grabbed some cash I notice the smell was still in the Motel. Shrugging it off I continued outside.

It had cooled down only slightly, and the streets had become a minim of a few cars and random people who stood outside to take a smoke. The stars where out reminding me of the glow in the dark stickers I had on my ceiling as a child. The store was only a five minutes walk from the motel. It those minutes I notice the smell was gone. 

Which led me to believe that it was most likely Tyson. I'd spray air fresher on him when I got back. Of course, I'd need to buy some first. Adding that to my mental list I paused watching a couple cars passed. I couldn't help but wonder if my father had stood where I was now.

I mean he did live here. Pushing some strands of wet hair from my face. The street lights flickered and I froze midway into crossing the street. I felt the hairs on my arm stand up. I had a sudden feeling that something was about to go wrong. I ignored it, something I should probably stop doing.

It didn't take long to arrive at the store. A woman sat at the counter she gave me a sideways smile as I walked in. The unease feeling had faded and been replaced with the desire to stuff my face with a pie.

I had an unhealthy obsession. Grabbing a cherry pie I began to hum 'she's my cherry pie...' I then took a twelve pack of code red mountain dew. The thought dawned on me that maybe this whole thing was crazy.Running away to Kansas,  in search of a man who possibly an impossible person to track. It gave me a headache thinking about how little I have and how long of a road I had ahead.

The possibility of finding Dean Winchester was one and a gazillion. However there is still a chance, and besides, I had nothing better to do. Setting the Pie and Soda on the counter I threw in a couple bags of gummy bears and beef jerky.

"Hey darlin' haven't seen you around here before," The woman tells me. She looked to be in her late thirties.

"Oh, I'm just visiting a couple friends," I tell her. Lies came easy spilling off my lips like water. I'd been told both of my parents had been an excellent liars. Most won't consider lying a talent but since I have so little few talents I consider lying one of my tops. 

"How long are you staying?" She asked.

"Not long just a couple days," I said casually.

"Well I'm Holly Wither and it was nice to meet you," she says after she rang up the items.

She was a ginger with brown eyes and enough freckles to make her face an orange-brown color. Her red lipstick was smeared on her front tooth. I felt like I should say something but didn't want to embarrass her.

"I'm Mary Maverick and it was nice meeting you as well," I rarely use my first name it was sort of an instinct of mine. I liked it better if people didn't know who I was. Hunter Winchester might not go through well.

My father had been a wanted murder before he had been confirmed dead. A from experience the last name Winchester was a sign for crazy. I was looked at as a freak at school. I couldn't have friends because all the adults in my old neighborhood told their kids not to hang around me.

I was treated like a ticking time bomb. At any moment that Winchester will explode and become an ax murder or something. My reputation for being short-tempered and a troublemaker only seemed to prove a point. 'The Winchester name is cursed!' I heard many times. Along with, 'That Winchester girl is trouble, she already started in her father's footsteps, and we all know where those lead!'

I can't say I believed being a Winchester was a bad thing. And although I didn't know my father I didn't believe he was a murder. However, I did agree that I wasn't on a good path. I dropped out of school, had been arrested mutable times, and put one no two people in the hospital.

It didn't take a genius to see with a record like that, I wouldn't amount to much. I mean if truly tried I might have a chance but knowing me I'd mess up that chance. I did a quick exit. My desperation to get back to the motel and stuff my face made me move fast.

Its kind of sad food is one of the only things that motivate me.  From walking faster to getting up in the morning, it was all for food and a little because I had to use the bathroom.  The street had suddenly became empty. There were about two people out from what I could see but other than that it was deserted.

Clinching the plastic bag and the twelve pack I crossed the street.  The box of soda cut into the fingers. Using my knee I attempted to adjust it. Pausing for a moment I frowned at the fact my nose started to itch.  The street lights all flickered again before the one over me busted sending fragments of glass down at me.

A squeak escaped my lips just as the twelve pack box ripped. Cans smashed against the sidewalk. The liquid sprayed making an almost hissing sound. "Son of a bitch!" I cursed. Before I could react much, I was grabbed from behind. I nearly scream but a cold hand covered my mouth. The smell filled my nostrils,  and I noticed it sorta smelled like rotten eggs.

"Your defiantly the easiest Winchester to catch," the familiar voice filled my ears.

Confusion suddenly overwhelmed me along with anger, "Tyson?" My voice was muffled so it came out more like, 'Tiphssin'. The only thing that was running through my head was 'What kind of annoying joke was Tyson playing!'

I wish I had known this wasn't Tyson.

(A/N: This is the first Supernatural fanfic I have written. I decided I need a break from what I usually write and plus I love the show. This story won't take place during any season really. It will probably mention some events but other than that this story will have whatever plot I make up. Since I make it up as I go I can't say exactly what I'm gonna do. In this story Bobby is alive, and his house is still in tacked, and Sam and Dean have no conflict such as mark of Cain or being soulless. )

Tell me if I should continue.

-Skye