Life as A Winchester Sister: Season 1

Pilot Pt.2

           We had pulled up to a gas station to get "breakfast, or whatever Dean decided to buy. Sam was going through the cassette tape box. Maybe he would be the one to convince Dean to invest in some newer music. I was stretched on in back. 

        "You want some breakfast?," Dean offered us some chips and sodas. Sam said no, but I quickly reached out my window and grabbed it from him. "At least someone is hungry."

        "So, how'd you pay for that stuff?" Sam questioned, still looking at the tapes. "You, Cheyenne, and Dad still running credit-card scams?"

      "Well, hunting isn't exactly a pro-ball career," Dean said, finishing filling up the impala with gas.

      "And all we do is apply, not our fault they send us the cards," I argued, sitting up and leaning over the front seat, grabbing a tape from the box and looking at it.

      "Ya, and what names did you write on the cards this time?" Sam glanced at Dean as he got in the drivers seat. 

     "Ah, Bert Aframian and his son, Hector," Dean remembered. Sam glanced at me, not hearing a female name.

      "Ya, dad didn't think I could be trusted with a card," I explained, throwing the cassette back into the box. I didn't even see him give me a sad look. 

      "Look man, you've got to update you cassette tape collection," Sam said, looking back at Dean. I smiled, finally someone said it. 

     "Why?" Dean asked, not seeing any issue.

    "Well, for one, their cassette tapes," I started, sinking back into my seat. Dean turned and glared at me for joining Sam's side. I giggled and sat down. 

      "And two, " Sam continued, sending me a quick smile, " Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metallica, its the greatest hits of mullet rock,"

     "House rules Sammy, "Dean then glanced back at me, " And Cheyenne, driver picks the music and shotgun shuts his cakehole." Dean stated, grabbing a tape and sticking it in.

       "Technically,  I'm not in shotgun, so..." I began to argue. Dean turned his head and glared. I shut up before causing more issues. I did sneak Sam a look and we laughed silently.

      "You know, Sammy is a chubby 12 year old, it's Sam," Sam explained. He had been trying to get rid of that nickname for years now. 

     I reached up and turned the music up. "Sorry Sammy, can't hear ya, music's too loud," I spoke over the rock song. 

      Dean laughed as he pulled away from the gas station and Sam groaned. 

As we drove, Sam called multiple hospitals, asking if dad was there. But no one matching his description had shown up, which meant he wasn't hurt. 

       "Check it out," Dean said, pointing out the window. I looked out and saw a few police cars on a bridge. It appeared that they were looking for something. Dean pulled over. 

      He opened the glove box and pulled out a box containing the many fake id's that Dad and him had used over the years. He pulled out one. 

     "Lets go," he told Sam, opening his door. I, however didn't move. Sam glanced back at me. I waved him off, not wanting to talk about Dad not trusting me anymore. He got out and followed Dean. 

      I watched as they walked over and talked with the police. A while later they walked back. I saw Dean smack Sam in the back of the head and argue with him. I rolled my eyes, knowing that Dean most likely did something dumb.