"Stay inside the salt circle!"

That was the first, and last thing my father said to me. It wasn't an 'I love you' or a 'Everything will be alright'. Instead it was a command. One of which I did not follow. I guess when Dean Winchester gives you a order you should follow it. I'm not sure why I didn't listen. It was probably just me being a stubborn six year old attempting to be a brave little soldier.

Or maybe it was because I thought he could keep me safe. However it was most likely my desperation to see my mother. It didn't seem to make sense to me then or now for the matter. How could a ring of salt possibly keep me safe? Although its  was almost eleven years ago I remember almost ever detail.

It was winter and we had just moved into the small house in Ohio. We moved often for reasons I wasn't sure of. Now that I think about it, I believe my mother was running from something. Possible someone although I couldn't be sure.

No matter where we'd go it was a constant routine. We'd pick a house with a cheap rent, and we'd take what little stuff we had and try to make it a place we could call home. If the house wasn't already furnished we'd do without beds or chairs. What little time I remember as a child I slept a lot on cold hard floors. That and the back of my mothers black Jeep.

It wasn't to uncomfortable once you got used to it. My mother was a terrible cook so fast food was one of the main things we lived on. It was probably why I was a chunky child not that all fast food was unhealthy or fattening just everything that I ordered.

I had little toy's and very few clothes. Most of which were boys, my mother started me off as a tomboy at a young age. I was never one for dresses not that I didn't wear them every once  in awhile. Like for special occasions, holidays, and weddings for example.

I rarely complained about my lack of well everything, for I always found a way to live without it. My mother used to say I should be happy with what I had because there were people who had less than that. So I did that at least I tried but sometimes you can't help but complain.

In those days I had little to no friends. It wasn't just because I was constantly moving but I wasn't the cleanest child. My face was always dirty and my clothes were worn to there limit, ripped and stain. Not to mention I hadn't the cleanest mouth either.'Bad words' were like my first language.

One of the first thing my mother did was she'd draw these weird symbols. On the walls and floors. I would sometimes helped her. I had descent art skills for my age. I asked her what they where once and she told me, "There for protection."

An like the salt I didn't believe that the strange drawings could be of any use. My mother also made me carry around a strange little bag. I didn't ask about it because like everything else I knew it had something to do with protection. I had once tore apart one finding bones and other strange things.

The house in Ohio was one of the smallest places we'd stayed. It sat at the edge of town surrounded by cornfields. It had no furniture and was falling apart. We laid on the hard wood floor, my mother attempting to keep me warm in the frigid air of December.

The freshly spray painted symbols filled the air with a smell that made me lightheaded. My nose was running and I wiped it away with my sleeve. I wore my coat, two layers of pants and three pairs of socks. Even though I was buried under blankets and whatever I wasn't wearing I was shivering.

"Mommy I'm cold," I wined my chapped face stung under tears that began to fall. My watery eyes gazed into the blue eyes of my mother. The heat didn't work in the house and it was snowing hard outside.

"Its okay little Dean don't cry," she whispered. I couldn't understand why she called me that. I guess I looked more like my father then than now. All I know is that she often called me my fathers name than my own.I figured because she missed him. Or maybe it was some inside joke I didn't understand.

"Do you think daddy is cold?" I had asked mainly just so she'd talk about him. I enjoyed it when she spoke about him. Her voice would grow soft and delicate, almost sad. Plus although I had never met him, I missed him.

"I don't know," was her reply.

"Can you tell me how you met?" I asked her for little did I know the last time. I'd heard the story a few times before.

She pushed a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. She looked as cold as I was. I sneezed a little and she let me finish sniffling before she continued. The only light was from the kitchen which she had left on for my sake.I won't lie I was afraid of the dark but every kid is at least once in there life.

"Well I was working in a small dinner just outside of Illinois, and your father showed up on a hunting trip," She tells me her voice raw and scratchy from tiredness, "He walked in and my first thought was, 'this boy is trouble' and he was."

She paused laughing slightly at a distant memory. I closed my eyes trying to imagine the story. It was hard for I'd only seen my father in a old photo. He was young in it as was my mother. I carried it in my pocket everywhere I went. I'd talk to it sometimes pretending that I was actually talking to him.

"The first thing he did was wink at me and say, 'Hey do you have any pie?' I remember he order apple, and ate it peacefully for awhile then with a mouthful he began to ask questions," she says.

I cut in asking, "What kind of questions?" Although I'd heard the story many times I'd always found something new to ask.

"Just questions that had to do with his hunting trip," she says not truly answering, "Anyway, after he paid I thought it would be the last time I seen him, however it wasn't and everyday for weeks he'd come in every morning, ate and we'd make small talk."

She seemed to be drifting off in thought or sleep I couldn't tell. To keep her from closing her eyes I wondered, "Did you like him?"

"Not at first, in fact I found him quite annoying," She replied, "But I slowly began to enjoy his company, eventually he asked me on a date and I agreed, and it wasn't long before I fell head over heels for that Winchester."

"You loved each other?" I wondered.

"Something like that," She smiled, "Long story short I joined your fathers family business."

"Family business?"

"Saving people," she tells me.

I frowned confused, "I thought you said daddies a mechanic?"

"He is, he saves people from car troubles," she explain a amused look on her face. Before she could say much more the kitchen light flicked before going out completely.

For something that was completely normal my mother jumped up. I never understood but my mother always kept a gun close. Before I could get up on my elbows her handgun was cocked and loaded.

I must have been so tired or maybe it was the darkness but I saw the floor crack right through mutable symbols. A squeak escaped me and my mother had a sudden look of fear. This was a new look for her. She never was afraid. Howling sounded in the distance it was unlike any dog or coyote I ever heard.

"Dean," She whispered. I thought she was talking to me but I quickly found out she was talking to him. As I had been staring at the cracked floor she'd pulled out her phone, "They found us!"

I was so confused I remained frozen in place. It wasn't until my mother had jerked me to my feet had I snapped out of it. She looked into my eyes her face lit from the blue light of her phone.

"Hunter listen to me get in the closet don't come out," she demand. I opened my mouth to protest but she said, "NOW!"

Scrambling forward, my feet managed to get caught in the blankets. I crashed against the floor splinters digging into my hands. Just then the door opened and the porch light lit the room. Three men and a woman entered there eyes appeared to be a solid black except one who had red.

I excused there strange eyes as an allusion of the lighting. However I began to question that almost immediately. Humans didn't have eyes like that which meant these were not humans.

"Alice I told you I'd find you," the red eyed front man said. His grin sent shivers down my spine. A loud boom echoed through the air. An a bullet ripped through the mans forehead. Like his eyes, his hair was a dark red, "A bullet, oh you know better than that."

I screamed not because I just watch my mother shoot a man but because the man seemed unfazed by it. It was all like something from a horror movie. An in that moment I was sure that whoever and whatever these things were they were monsters. The man smirked and looked at me. An my scream halted getting stuck in my throat. My body trembled but not from just the cold anymore but blinded fear. I was paralyzed.

"I've been waiting to meet your little rabbit Alice," the man says. His eyes flickered from me back to my mom.

She went to step toward me but was thrown into a near by wall. It was like a invisible wind had swept her away. The gun skidded across the floor and I scrambled so I was sitting on my knees. Before I could get to my feet the man started talking to me causing me to go still.

"What is your name little rabbit?" he asked as if speaking to a wounded animal.

"If you hurt her I'll kill you!" My mother screamed her voice filled with fury and tears, "I'll kill you! You motherfucker!"

I was sobbing at this point, petrified. Although I hadn't a idea what was going on. So many questions ran through my mind. Most having to do with these strange eyed people. Who where they and what did they want?

The man came towards me and I scrambled to my mother who was pinned to the wall. I didn't get to far before I was jerked back by my hair. A helpless squeal escaped my lips and I cried in desperation. Tears blurred my eyes and I reached for my mother.

"MOMMY!" I cried. I began shrieking loud struggling in the grasped of the man, "HELP ME MOMMY!"

My mother let out a angry heartbroken sob. Her eyes filled with so many emotions it hurt to look into them. My small fingers reached for her clawing the air. I was so afraid. I could feel the clinching in my stomach and I was sure I was gonna throw up.

"Please let her go!" my mom said, "I'll do anything!"

"So little rabbit how would you like to see both your parents die?" the man asked me. That's when I heard it. The purr of an engine as it speed into the driveway. I hoped it was the police but there was no flashing lights.

It was then it all happened fast. I don't remember those couple minutes besides being thrown to the floor. All I know was I seen my father for the first time in person. He was a little older than what he had been in the picture. His eyes shined a green like mine. I had rolled before being stopped by a wall. I couldn't feel it at the moment but my arm had been broken.

My mother had grabbed me, somehow breaking away from the force that had pinned her. I wanted to cry but nothing escaped my lips as she yanked me off the floor. She ran with me down the long narrow hallway.

"ALICE!" I heard a unfamiliar voice yell who I could only presume was my father. She set me in a empty room.

"Get in the closet!" An with that she turned running back towards danger.

I scrambled to the bedroom closet closing the door tightly. A few hangers hung above me. Besides for the soft scrap of them clinging together I could hear the fighting in the other room. So many tears spilled down my face. I covered my ears and I prayed. I can't remember my exact prayer but it was along the lines of 'Make sure my mommy and daddy are okay!'

It felt like hours but I doubt it was that long. It was dark in the closet I swear I could feel it smothering me. I remained still until the fighting stopped. Everything was quiet for a moment. It was then the heavy footsteps started towards the room.

A light flicked shining in the closet from under the door. I pushed back farther in the small space. My back against the wall my heart pounding hard. The shadow of feet stopped on the other side. I yelped as the door flung open.

An there he stood, my father. Blood dripped down his face clinching a knife in one hand and holding a duff bag in the other. He didn't say anything I think it was because he hadn't caught his breath quite yet. He grabbed my arm pulling me out of the closet. I was surprised as he pulled out a thing of salt and began pouring it around me. Once he finished he movied to the window seal pouring a thick line.

"W-where m-my mommy?" I asked wiping my tears. More of the howls sounded. My head began to pound I could see there glowing bodies through the window. My father moved towards the door.

He didn't look at me. I attempted to move towards him. He stopped me, "Stay inside the salt circle!"

"Daddy where mommy!" He eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and pain. An I knew something was wrong. A bang from somewhere in the house made my father moved towards the door. He shut it tight ignoring my cry's. I could hear him shuffle for a minute and the sound of salt being poured.

Then it was quiet for and everything was still. All at once I could make out a strong muffled voice in the other room.

"You Winchesters always getting in the way," The red eyed mans words filled the air, "Come on Dean you know how deals work, Im not gonna hurt your little rabbit."

Looking at the circle of salt around me I felt exposed. Slowly I took a step over it, something I'd regret forever. My steps where light and slow as I crept towards the door. I remember the feeling of the handle. 'Stay,' a voice in my head warned. I ignored it. I pulled the door opened slowly.

 The bedroom light illuminate part of the hall. I moved quickly my socks sliding against the floor. Salt stuck to the bottom of them and I barley glanced at the broken salt line that had been in front of the door.

The sound of sirens filled my ears and I knew the police had arrived. I could see the red and blue lights flashed against the walls. Stepping into the living room of the dancing lights I cried out, "MOMMY!" My mother laid crippled her body twisted in odd ways. Blood puddled underneath her.

I ran towards her ignoring the monster. My father stood shouting non comprehensive words the redhead man smirking. An as if all at once black smoke rippled from the mouths of monsters. A thick fog had taken up the room before leaving all together. The bodies it came from crippled to the floor laying motionless. He had turned to look at me and I met his eyes for only seconds. Tears spilling I looked away and into the empty lifeless eyes of my mother.

"Mommy," I sobbed shaking her. The police rushed in I only looked up long enough to notice my father was gone. Then I stared back down at my mother waiting for her to push my hair out of my face and sing to me. Or simply assure me everything was alright. However she never did and I was left alone.

I had told the police about the strange eyed monsters, I told them everything. They thought I was just didn't want to admit my father had killed the people in my house that night. Along with my mother. No matter how many times I protest and repeated the story they told me 'monsters aren't real'.

I was told so many times that they had me convinced that i'd just been seeing things. That my six year old mind had twisted my memory in order to protect me from the truth. However, it was all a lie, monsters were real and looking at Tyson I knew for sure.

His eyes were black and they cut through me. My vision blurred around me, I felt like I was tilting. My head falling forward I took slow breaths sweat pouring down my face. I wasn't sure where I was, all I knew was it was dark. I twisted my wrist only to find they were zip tied behind my back.

I told myself not to panic but I couldn't help it. Humming Metallica didn't help neither did Motorhead. I didn't wanna die. Not that I could really jump to conclusions this could just be some crazy hidden camera show. Then again it probably wasn't.

"Wake up little Rabbit!" My breath hitched as Tyson patted my face hard. I felt a sudden sickness it was the same thing the red eyed monster had called me. I squinted trying to focus on my surrounding.

I felt like vomiting I probably had a concussion. Nauseous and confused I closed my eyes attempting to calm my headache which was worse than any hangover I had ever had.

"Aw don't fall asleep on me just yet," Tysons voice was soft. He spoke like he would when he'd tell me 'everything's gonna be alright.'

"What are you?" I asked My eyes opening slightly, "Have you always been a monster Tyson?"

Tyson laughed looking at me, like I had said something hilarious. His eyes flickered to the original soft color. "You really don't know do you Winchester? An here I was hoping you could lead me right to your family."

"Lead you? To who my dad? Sorry to burst you damn bubble but I've only seen my father once and you know that Tyson!"

He shook his head, "Lets get something straight,  this Tyson you speak of his not here right now."

"Right," I laughed not amused. My chest hurt at the idea that my best friend was a lying twisted monster. He was my back bone, he was my family. The pain that was burning in me made me want to throw up. Then again that could also be the concussion.

He closed his eyes opening them up again. The now solid black color glared into mine, "Names Francis, I'm a demon and I'm simply inhabiting this meat suit friend of yours, have been since the airport."

I raised and eyebrow, "Like The Exorcist?" I wasn't believing this, then again it almost sound reasonable. I'd known Ty most of my life it didn't seem like him to knock me out and tie me up in a warehouse. Or at least that's what my surroundings looked like.

Tyson...Francis shook his head chuckling coldly, "I was hoping for more of a reaction, then again you are a Winchester," he then smirked, "however not an important one, I mean my guess you weren't ever let in on 'The Family Business' ."

"Family...what?" I frowned.

He laughed, "Thought so," he stood up straight towering over me. My vision blurred again, "Guess that just makes you an easy target, lucky me!"

I attempted a hard glare but failed, "Fuck you!" He seemed to find my anger and confusion hilarious, "What do you want? It can't be intell because as you have previously revealed I have no damn idea what the hells going on right now!"

Never had I wanted to hit Tysons pretty face so badly. I was frustrated and had to use the bathroom really bad. Francis gave me a mocking grin before walking towards a wooden table.

I sat still and helpless on the floor as had dumped the content of my bag. "You could still be of use, you see there was a rumor that Dean Winchester had a daughter with none other than Alice."

He paused looking at me closely. It was so weird, before me appeared to be my beloved Tyson. However it wasn't really him, it still hurt though. It felt as if he had actually do this to me. He wasn't though I couldn't describe its but its was like I could feel his presents when I was calm enough to listen. It was almost like I could feel his distresses of being trapped inside his own body.

'I'm gonna extracted this son of a bitch from you,' I promised through my eyes.

Francis narrowed his eyes at me for a moment, "I don't see it though, see I knew your mother."

"My...how?" I demand.

"We go way back, she was an impressive woman," The demon smiled as if amused, "Not only are you not like her, I don't see a lot of your father in you either, what a disappointment you are."

"What exactly am I useful for?" I demand the taste of vomit on my tongue, "Just a non important Winchester."

"Not sure little rabbit but you've had a bounty on your head for awhile now," Francis smirked, "And I intend to collect."

Frustrated I did all I could, I spit directly in his face (Tysons face). Francis scowled frowning at me as if I where a frustrating neighbor child.  His fingers brushed my face softly before striking. The sound echoed, and I cried out. I could feel a stinging pain on the cheek and I was sure my lip was bleeding.

"You son of a bitch," I growled, "Your gonna regret  that."

His face remained neutral as if I hadn't spoke at all. He stood straight walking a little ways away from me. "Shouldn't be long now," he spoke in a voice that screamed 'bored'.

"What?" I demand.

"He should be here any minute," Francis tells me.

"Who?"

He didn't reply instead he took ahold of a small pocket knife from Tysons jeans. It was small I had given it to him as a gift on Christmas a few years back. The demon played with it for a second.

"Until then I guess we can have a bit of fun," Francis flashed me a smile. He opened the blade it gleamed in the low lighting. Panic rose in my chest. I could feel a panic attack rising. Deep breaths I command myself.

My heart pounded and I was nearly hyperventilating. The demon seen my distress and laughed. He shook his head smiling one that didn't look right of my best friends face. He stepped closer and I tugged at the zip tie.

"Calm down little Rabbit I'm not gonna uses this on you, the boss wants you unharmed...physically," He smiled as if it where a inside joke one I wasn't in on. "You see despite my opinion your worth something this Tyson of yours he's just a meat suit and I don't intend on leaving witnesses the last thing I need is your friend to track down daddy dearest, a Winchester brother isn't someone you want on your back."

Before I could react he slit from Tysons wrist up to his elbow. "Wait..no-STOP!" I screamed, "Please, I beg you don't!"

Blood spilled down his forearm as I cried. I jerked harder against my bonds. I knew I broke skin but I could care less as Francis did the same to Tysons other arm. Rage filled me or was that fear? It didn't matter because I roared.

I sounded like a monstrous cry it raddled the windows and flickered the lights. What I was most surprised about is it wiped the smug look off the demons faces. When my cry halted was when his started.

Black smoke poured out of Tysons mouth shooting upward. My ears where ringing and my body trembled. All at once it stopped. Everything and I watched as Tyson now pale clasped to the floor. A smell of rotten eggs lingered as well as copper.

"Ty," I choked after a moment of him motionless. He simple groaned. His skin looked almost gray now and I knew he was losing to much blood.

My head pounded and I could feel an episode coming on. I pushed it down chocking back sobs. Tyson was still, and I had to look hard to see the slight movement of his chest. I pulled again at the zip-tie but nothing changed.

"TYSON!" I pleaded, "Don't you dare bleed out on me, I'll kill you I swear!"

I ignored the irony of my comment and continued struggling. My eyes whelmed with tears and I closed them. I couldn't think about what I just experiences all I could focus on was getting to Tyson.

The pocket knife was way to far out of reach and tugging on the ties where not making any progress in my attempt to escape. Growling in frustration I took to yelling for help. "HELLO SOMEBODY! I NEED HELP!" I closed my eyes tight praying under my breath, "God, Buda, anyone who is listening please help."

I paused as if waiting, 'If there's demons that must mean there is Angels right?'

"Uh if any angel or whatever is listening my name is Hunter Winchester, remember that time I gave that homeless guy my sandwich? And all those other good things I'm sure Ive done? Id like to cash them in please, just save me friend okay please? His name is Tyson Maverick and he usually goes to chuch every sunday and he volenteers for the community hes really deserves to be saved right now, please....amen?"

I peaked looking around the room. It was the same and Tyson was still bleeding. I let out a soft cry. I was stupid to think that angels would help my ass. I shook my head, I opened my mouth to say an apology to Tyson for dragging him into this but I never got a chance for suddenly kneld beside him was a man...in a trenchcoat.

(A/N: I know its not great but it will hopefully get better, im debating on bring Mary, Ellen, Joe, Ash, Charlie, and others in this. I kind of want this to happen around season 4 but with future characters? Tell me what you think.)

-Skye