The Winchester Sister (COMPLETED)

Chapter 3

"Who are you and where is Bobby?" Dean asks me, an unspoken threat in his voice.

I look him in his eye, seeing the deep evergreen that matches my own perfectly, like looking into a mirror. "Oh, my dear brother. Threatening your own twin? Tsk tsk tsk."

He sits down, hard, next to me on the bed.

"You can't be her. Asaya died on a hunting trip with my father. You can't be," he says, his voice breaking. Suddenly he lashes out, splashing me in the face with what I assume is holy water. I take a silver knife off my bedside table and dig it slightly into my arm. I pick up my bed mattress to reveal a spray painted demon trap, which I stand inside before limping out.

"Okay. So you're not a demon. But if you're really Asaya, what was my weird passion as a kid. Whisper it in my ear so Sammy doesn't hear," he says, not trusting me even after all the tests.

I lean over and whisper "knitting."

He grasps me tightly, suddenly, making me flinch before I hug him back.

"Asaya," he whimpers.

"Dean," I respond.

"Umm," Sam says, making me jump. I forgot he was here. "Do either of you want to explain to me what the hell is going on here?"

I stand up and touch his face. "Oh Sammy, you look so different from the last time I saw you this close. Hello, baby brother."

He pushes me away and looks desperately at Dean.

"Sammy, remember all those times I'd pull out a photograph and look at it? And you'd always ask to look at who it was I was looking at?"

Sam nods.

Dean pulls a picture out of his pocket and shows it to our brother. I look at it too, and realize it's a picture of me at four years old, Dean by my side, Mom in the background, laughing at the person taking the picture, presumably John, while we eat ice cream. The dessert is all over our little faces, and my smile is wider than the sun.

"Oh Dean," I say softly. "You kept that?"

"Asaya, it was the only thing I had to remember you and Mom by. I lost both of you within the year this was taken, and Dad refused to let us keep any pictures or any of your stuff," Dean says, tears in his eyes.

I hear the doorbell go off again. Twice, to be exact, meaning it's Bobby.

"Shit. Get out of this room before he comes in or he'll have my head. You're not supposed to know about me yet."

Dean starts to protest, but I whisper 'we'll talk later' to him and he leaves.

"Boys!" I hear him say to my brothers.

"Hey, Bobby! Got any of that beer for us?" Dean says, all sadness gone from his voice in a flash.

I sigh and lay down on my bed. I stare at my ceiling, graced with Van Gogh's Starry Night, or almost an exact replica anyway. Not a single inch of my walls or ceiling is the color it was before I moved in here.

I get lonely quickly. I haven't talked to my brothers in forever, and usually I can get over the loneliness, but right now meeting them and then having them have to leave leaves a big hole in my heart.

That problem is solved, however, when Castiel the angel pops in for a visit.