Work Text:
Extra shirts? Check
Jeans? Check
Holy water, salt, iron coin, knife? All there
You mentally checked all of the items off as you accidentally put each one into your duffle bag. For you to be up and moving with a big grin plastered on your face only minutes after sunrise was as rare as your uncle’s haircuts but you couldn’t help it. It was your birthday, your sixteenth birthday in fact, and you were itching to go on your first hunt. It’s not like you had never been involved. Growing up, school was having your lore books opened next to your algebra textbook and even though he was adamant in keeping you out of the life to the best of his ability, growing up with a famous hunter as your father, sort of etched the life into your DNA. Once you were 13, you had assisted with research on cases from the bunker or helped round up ingredients for spells. You had begged and begged but Dean had always refused to let you into the field, until your 14th birthday that was when after a series of arguments he finally agreed to let you go on your first hunt when you were sixteen. He figured you would forget. You never did. Finally, you zipped up the bag and left it on the bed, there was no sense in lugging it around until you found a case, after all, and headed down the hall, following the scent of freshly made coffee. You happily stepped over the threshold, catching Sam’s attention as he glanced up from his phone in one hand with a smile, swallowing the sip of coffee he had taken.
“Morning,” Sam’s smile brightened and you returned it.
“Morning,” you answered, taking the seat across from your uncle and making Dean look back from where he was manning the pans on the stove, the sizzle of bacon and pancakes creating a delicious aroma.
“There’s the birthday girl,” Dean chimed, placing two pancakes and some bacon onto a plate before setting it in front of you, “Wait,” he mumbled looking around the kitchen for a moment before rifling through one of the drawers. A noise of triumph passed his lips and he placed the single faded orange wax candle in the top pancakes, “There.” You and Sam laughed slightly as he smiled triumphantly and ignited the flame with a lighter. With a quick smile at the two of them, you blew it out with a single breathe.
“Wish for something good?” Sam inquired.
“I already get my wish this year,” you stuffed your face with the pancakes, turning your once again, smiling face up at you Uncle who poured you a cup of coffee.
“And what would that be?” You dad quirked an eyebrow at you as he set his own, as well as Sam’s, plate down and the two began to eat.
“My first hunt,” the words left your mouth casually, quickly followed by another bite of pancakes. Dean and Sam visibly tensed in his seat.
“Woah, I think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves here,” Dean coughed out. He threw a worried glance toward his brother, who returned it.
“You said, when I was sixteen, I could go on a hunt with you.” You turned to look at him, just as he rose to his feet and moved to refill his coffee mug.
“When did I say that,” Dean attempted.
“My fourteenth birthday,” you shot back rather quickly and he glanced to Sam for help but he nodded his head in remembrance, pulling a frustrated groan from Dean’s lips, “Please Dad, I’m capable and I’m already packed.” He looked at you for a moment, your pleading eyes, softening his resolve, much to his annoyance.
“We don’t even have a case,” He managed, throwing up a hand free of the scalding liquid. Just as the words left him, Cas came walking in, eyes fixed on Sam’s open laptop in his hands.
“I think I might have found something,” came the gruff tone. Dean shifted his weight and looked at your smug expression—Yep, you really were a Winchester.
“Fine,” Dean conceded with a huff and immediately your thin lipped pout spread into a large smile, as you pulled him into a crushing hug, your small frame bombarding into his chest, “I love ya kid.”
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Thirty minutes later and you were strapped in the back of the Impala next to Cas, Zeppelin humming through the radio as the tires squealed towards California.
“Rules, one more time,” Dean commanded, making Sam groan under his breath as you rolled your eyes.
“You’re in charge, don’t go anywhere without you, Cas, or Sam, always be on the lookout, and if I step out of line, the motel is my home for the rest of the case,” you listed the rules he had gone over several times but not without the smallest hint of annoyance in your tone.
“And?”
“And, don’t get killed,” you finished and, seemingly satisfied, Dean turned up the music slightly and brought his focus back to the road. Your eyes found the window, resting your head against it as you watched the land fly by you, a content and excited smile forming on your face as you edged closer to your first hunt. Cali, Here I come.