Change of Identity
Warnings: some language
Word Count: 2006
Request: “Oh my gosh! You NEED to do a second part to ‘You’re a Winchester’! It was so amazing!”
A/N: Here is Part Two to the 'You’re a Winchester’ series! Thanks for all the love on Part One. Please let me know what you think of this one, and if I should keep going with the series! (See Part One for the summary)
It had been one month since you saw your mother for the first time. One month since you saw her lying dead in own blood. One month since you read those three words written into her flesh.
One month since you had started living the life of a hunter.
After discovering your dead mother, you knew that you had no other life to go back to, or at least any life that meant something. You felt that by following in your father’s footsteps, (even if you had never met the man), your life wouldn’t be so meaningless. You could help others. Save others.
Becoming a hunter of a world full of evil that you knew next-to-nothing about, would require some research. You spent days upon days sitting in the library, flitting your eyes from lore books to books on mythology to historical records.
By the end of the week, you had only gotten a few hours of sleep and your brain felt like it was going to explode at any moment.
After the initial adrenalin that fueled your days of intensive studying of the supernatural, you hotwired a low-key car, and fled the state, leaving all memories of your mother and the orphanage behind you in Illinois.
With a stolen credit card as your currency, you booked out a motel room in which you intended to stay in for a while, as you trained up and continued to research about the odd evil beings of the world.
During that month, you created some twisted form of a life for yourself. You bought yourself new clothes, would exercise every day for a few hours, train with various kinds of weapons, and would spend the fall of night expanding your knowledge and exploring articles online to see if there was ever any weird happenings going on in your area.
But most of all, you created an identity for yourself. You decided that Y/N Fulligan was going to run you into trouble down the line, as it was the name you had used all your life for all sorts of files across the board. It was too risky. So instead, you decided to take up your father’s name, as it would carry a further hunting aspect into your new life. And you also thought that Y/N Winchester had a nice ring to it.
So it had been one month since your entire life changed.
You felt like you had read all that you could, and had become a much healthier and fitter person who was actually in a shape to fight off monsters. But you felt like there was almost some unfinished business that you needed to attend to.
And that was to find your father, John Winchester.
One week. Turned into one month. Which turned into three months.
And still, you were barely any closer to finding your father.
You spent months travelling around various towns of different states, when you decided that staying in Iowa was getting you nowhere. So you packed your few belongings into your hotwired car, and drove off to various states.
At first you were totally lost, as you had no clue on how to track down John Winchester, as the only information you had to go on was his name and that he was a hunter.
After a little thinking and planning, you decided the best way to go was to keep an eye on the newspapers, articles and police radio for any mysterious cases that could be right up your new line of work.
By working on these cases, you were bound to find other hunters possibly working the same case as you, therefore you could ask about John Winchester and his whereabouts. In addition to hopefully gaining some knowledge of your father, you would be able to make a start into committing yourself to the job of a hunter, as you would be able to assist any other hunters with solving the case and killing the evil behind it.
So that’s what you did. For three months.
You travelled around searching for cases, and most of the time would meet up with other hunters. You asked about what they knew about John Winchester, but unfortunately most hadn’t heard from him in years. But nevertheless, you never gave up.
In the meantime, you acted like a true hunter: researching for cases, imposing as an FBI agent, and killing whatever evil son of a bitch was causing mischief. You felt a new kind of adrenalin you had never felt in your life. It was exhilarating, exciting, frightening and tiring all at once. But you loved it.
It was just a regular day for you. You had come across a case in Ottawa, Kansas, where three victims in the past few days had been murdered, with their heart missing. You knew it had to be a werewolf, but you needed to research into the case deeper before going after the mutt.
You discovered a dusty motel room to accommodate you for a few days while you worked this case out. Bringing in your duffel bag to the room, you threw it on the ground as you slumped onto the bed. You felt drained and somewhat exhausted from the constant demand that the hunting lifestyle involved.
However, against your body’s desires, you snatched the keys from your pocket and headed to your car, in search of a local bar.
Entering the bar was not a new experience for you, as it was a place where you could come and take your mind off hunting and the ever-continuous search for your father. Although, it was also a place where other hunters would do the same, allowing you to gather any scraps of information you could on John Winchester.
Slowly you wandered over to the bar, asking the older-looking barman for a beer. He looked at you up and down before loudly sighing and reaching for a flask.
You’d think that being 18 and all, that bars wouldn’t be allowed to serve you any form of alcohol, but you found that most bars don’t really seem to mind as long as they were getting business. On the odd occasion that they question your age, you’d flash them a fake ID you had made up, before giving a smirk as you accepted your drink.
The barman set down your beer, as you placed a note on the counter, and walked off to an empty table.
You quietly gulped down your beer, as you observed the characters of the bar. You were on the lookout for a potential werewolf, or someone who looked like they could be a hunter. You examined the entirety of the bar with no luck. Until you saw two men enter the bar, and set themselves down at a booth, which sat close by to the table at which you were situated.
The taller of the two pulled out a laptop, and immediately began to type, while the other man pulled out what looked like a file, filled with newspaper clippings and photographs.
Upon further subtle observation, you concluded that these two men were hunters, judging by the type of research they seemed to be doing, they were in a bar, and their chiseled, built physiques suggested that their job or lifestyle was physically demanding.
With a final skull of your beer, you stood up from your chair and wandered over to the pair of men.
You were standing by their table, but the deep gazes their faces showcased let you know that they hadn’t even registered that there was someone beside them. Awkwardly, you gave a small cough before asking, “So what’s that you are working on there?”
Both men looked up at you, looking slightly taken aback, before looking at each other and sharing some form of unspoken communication.
The man with the shorter, lighter-coloured hair, gave you a forced smile before responding, “It’s nothing super important.” He looked at you up and down with judgmental eyes as he continued with a sarcastic tone, “So why don’t you run along to your sorority and study up for your high school finals.”
Your face dropped at the comment. Here you were thinking they could help, but it just seemed that they were some grade A douche-bags, that could tell you were young and therefore didn’t think you needed to know about ‘grown-up’ things. However, you did see the other man give a hard bitch-face to him, which made your mouth curl up a little.
You were about to leave them, thinking that they weren’t hunters as you had previously thought, until a photograph of one of the victims caught your eye. You then had a quick glance at what the long, brown-haired man was searching on his laptop. Werewolves.
“You are hunters, aren’t you?!” you exclaimed to them.
Again, they looked taken aback, with their faces showing hints of confusion and maybe even some fascination.
The smart-arse from before, scrunched his eyebrows as he responded, “Yeah we are. What? Are you?”
“More or less,” you smirked. Both men gave a small laugh, as they motioned for you to pull up a chair and sit with them.
The man with shaggy hair spoke as you began to take a seat, “My name’s Sam. And this over here is my charming brother Dean.” Dean gave a smug smile, as you laughed softly.
You extended your hand to Sam, “Y/N.” He accepted the gesture with a smile, before you retracted your arm and did the same to Dean.
You continued to smile, until you remembered why you came over in the first place. And it wasn’t regarding the werewolf. You cleared your throat before speaking.
“Um, so the reason I came over here is because I was wondering if you could help me out. I’ve been looking for a man all over the place, and I was wondering if you might know him or where he is at the moment, because he’s a hunter, so I figured you might know something.”
Sam continued to type at his laptop as you spoke, but you could tell he was listening intently. It was Dean that responded. “Ah, yeah, I guess so. We’ll do the best we can. What’s his name, sweetheart?”
Your attention focused on Dean as you stated, “John Winchester.”
Dean’s eyes widened at the mention of his name, and you noticed the absence of the sound of Sam typing away on his laptop. When you looked at Sam, his expression replicated his brother’s.
Confused by their reaction, you asked hesitantly, “Why do you know who he is?”
Sam clenched his jaw before answering with a flat tone, “Yeah, actually. He’s our father.”
You just sat there, mouth slightly ajar. Their father. Your heart began racing, as you spoke aloud to yourself, “Sam and Dean Winchester.”
You could see that both brothers were confused by your reaction and, what would be, an obvious statement.
It was too crazy to be real. But then you thought that Winchester could just be a popular last name, as John is a popular first name. You mentally calmed yourself down as you thought of a way to know for sure.
“Wait, what is the date of your parent’s wedding anniversary?” you asked questioningly, as you looked at both brothers.
You asked them that question because you knew your father’s wedding anniversary with his deceased wife was May 17th, as it was the same day that he and your mother had the one-night fling where you were conceived.
Dean looked at you confusion still in his expression, but nevertheless answered, “May 17th.”
You instantly shot up from your seat, and began to pace beside the table, taking it all in. It was just too much to take in.
Sam and Dean exchanged worried glances, before Dean gave a nervous laugh, and asked, “Wait. Why are you asking us this? What’s it to you?”
You immediately stopped pacing, and looked straight into Dean’s eyes, as you replied, “Because I’m your sister.”