Chapter Text
The first thing Dean Winchester ever taught Vivian was that patience wasn't one of his virtues.
It had been one of those warm summer afternoons. The Winchester backyard had become Dean's self-appointed training ground. John had left earlier that morning, leaving Dean convinced he was suddenly an expert at absolutely everything.
Vivian, meanwhile, looked anything but intimidating.
She was twelve years old, all awkward limbs and stubborn determination. Oversized glasses kept sliding down her nose every few seconds.
Braces flashed whenever she spoke, and a constellation of acne dotted her cheeks, making her painfully self-conscious. The crossbow in her hands looked almost too large for her to hold comfortably.
Dean watched her struggle for all of three seconds before groaning dramatically. "No, no, no!" Sixteen-year-old Dean groaned , snatching the crossbow from her hands. "You're holding it all wrong."
Vivian immediately frowned, folding her arms.
"Maybe, because it's heavy!"
Dean rolled his eyes. "It's a crossbow, not a teddy bear."
"I know what it is!"
"Clearly not."
A few feet away, Sam sat comfortably on the porch steps looking at the familiar sight of Dean and Vivian bickering. It happened almost every time they were together.
Vivian snatched the crossbow back from Dean's hand. She planted her feet exactly how she'd seen him do it, lifted the weapon, took a careful breath, and squeezed the trigger.
The bolt shot forward.
But it completely missed the target and disappeared somewhere into the trees.
Dean let out the single most exaggerated sigh she'd ever heard, dragging a hand dramatically down his face as if she'd just committed the greatest crime imaginable.
"Oh my God!! You suck!!"
The words hit harder than she expected.
Heat instantly rushed to Vivian's face. She swallowed hard, tightening her grip on the crossbow. "Well if you taught me!"
"I am teaching you."
"No, you're making fun of me!"
"Same thing."
Her gaze slowly dropped to the crossbow and without saying another word, she shoved the crossbow firmly against his chest.
"Take it!"
Dean instinctively caught it before it could hit the ground, blinking in surprise at the sudden gesture.
"What are you doing?"
"I don't want to do it anymore."
"...What?"
"If you're just going to be a jerk, then keep your stupid crossbow!"
Before Dean could respond, she spun sharply on her heel, and stormed across the yard as fast as her legs could, scrubbing at the tears gathering in her eyes.
Dean watched her disappear around the side of the house. "...that rude brat."
"You made her cry."
Dean turned to find Sam staring at him in disappointment. "I did not."
Sam pointed toward the house. "She is literally crying, go apologize."
Dean looked horrified.
"NO!"
—
The next afternoon, Vivian sat beneath the large oak tree at the edge of the Winchester yard, while a thick paperback lay open across her knees.
She hadn't wanted to spend another minute at the Winchesters', especially not after yesterday, but her parents had gone out and asked John if he could watch her for a few hours.
John, naturally, had been called away almost immediately, leaving Dean to complain loudly that he was "stuck babysitting" her.
Vivian hadn't appreciated the comment then, and she certainly didn't appreciate it now. So, instead of acknowledging his existence, she buried her nose in her book and decided Dean Winchester simply wasn't worth looking at.
Unfortunately, Dean Winchester had never been particularly good at taking hints.
He strolled across the yard with the crossbow slung casually over one shoulder as though he hadn't been the reason she'd cried the day before.
Reaching her, he simply let the crossbow slide from his shoulder and dropped it onto the grass beside her feet before shoving his hands into his pockets.
"...Come on."
Vivian didn't so much as spare him a glance, her eyes remaining stubbornly fixed on the page she'd been pretending to read. "No."
"You still mad?"
The only response he received was the sound of another page turning.
Dean lingered there awkwardly, rocking back on his heels before scratching the back of his neck. He wasn't exactly sure how apologies worked—especially when he didn't think he'd done anything wrong.
"You know you've got the regional qualifiers in a few weeks."
That made her fingers freeze against the page.
"The sports scholarship. If you don't place..." he shrugged, trying to sound as though he didn't actually care, "...you lose your shot at the academy."
Vivian's lips pressed into a thin line.
Of course she knew that.
She'd spent months training for those qualifiers. Winning that scholarship meant everything to her. It wasn't just a competition—it was her chance to attend the summer archery academy her parents couldn't afford.
"Let me teach you."
She shot back. "So you can make me cry again?"
"...I won't."
"Liar."
Dean let out a long sigh, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "...Fine." He looked down at the grass before mumbling, "...I'll try not to be a jerk."
Vivian stared at him for several long seconds, trying to decide whether she'd actually heard him correctly. It wasn't an apology. But it was probably the closest Dean Winchester knew how to come to saying he was sorry.
After another moment, she sighed before closing her book and standing to her feet. "I get to hit you if you're mean."
Dean couldn't help laughing.
"Deal."
From then on, it became a routine and somehow every single time...
She followed him.
By the time middle school ended, everything had changed. Vivian's parents had accepted jobs in California, and by the end of summer, she'd be gone.
The Winchester brothers walked her to the edge of the quiet street one last time, where the moving truck waited with its doors wide open.
Dean wandered off toward the Impala, giving them space without making it obvious. Vivian looked down at her sneakers before finally meeting Sam's eyes.
"I love you," she admitted in a voice barely above a whisper. "I wanted to say that before I leave."
Sam's expression softened, "...I know Viv. I just... I'm sorry."
She blinked away the tears threatening to spill. "You don't have to say it back."
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then Vivian stepped closer, rose onto her toes, and pressed the gentlest kiss against his lips. It lasted only a heartbeat before she pulled away, cheeks burning.
"Bye, Sam."
Before he could answer, Dean rounded the corner with a small cardboard box in his hands. His footsteps slowed the instant he saw them his.
Without a word, he quietly turned around and walked back the way he'd come.
Seven years later...
Dean Winchester had officially run out of places to look.
"Dad?"
Dean had spent nearly a week chasing every lead he could think of. Every hunter they knew had been called. Every dusty dive bar John liked to disappear into had been checked twice.
He found nothing.
Dean stared at the screen, his thumb lingering over his contacts list.
Sam.
He sighed through his nose.
The name alone was enough to bring back four years' worth of stubborn arguments and unanswered calls.
Dean hadn't spoken to his little brother since the day he'd walked away for Stanford. He backed the Impala out of her spot, shifted into drive, and pointed her straight toward Palo Alto.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Stanford University buzzed with life as students spilled from lecture halls in every direction.
Parked just outside the campus, Baby looked almost painfully out of place among the polished imports and sensible student cars.
Dean leaned against the Impala with his arms crossed, a pair of sunglasses perched lazily on his nose as his gaze swept over the sea of unfamiliar faces.
"...Where are you..."
Then he saw him. Sam was taller than the kid Dean remembered, his hair a little longer, books tucked casually beneath one arm, looking cleaner, healthier... normal.
Dean couldn't help smiling. "There you are." He pushed himself away from Baby and stepped toward the crosswalk.
Before he'd made it more than a few steps a girl practically skipped up beside Sam. "Sam!! There you are!"
Sam laughed. "Hey, I thought you had another lecture."
"It got cancelled." She rolled her eyes. "Apparently our professor decided grading papers was more important than educating us."
Dean stopped walking.
"...Huh."
She was beautiful. Not in the movie-star kind of way. Just... Effortlessly. She laughed with her whole face, sunlight catching in her hair.
Please don't let that be his girlfriend. The girl smiled up at Sam as though she'd known him forever before casually hooking her arm around his, prompting Dean to mutter beneath his breath, "...Aw, you've gotta be kidding me."
No way. Absolutely no way.
Dad had kicked him out, and somehow the kid had built exactly the life he'd always wanted—a future at Stanford, a normal life, and, apparently, a gorgeous girlfriend.
There wasn't a chance in hell Sam was throwing all of that away just because Dean showed up asking him to find their father. Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "...Well, crap."
He stepped toward the crosswalk.
A horn blared.
"HEY!"
A sedan shot past and Dean jumped back. "Mother fu—"
Another car.
Then another.
Then a bus.
He stared at the endless stream of traffic. "You've gotta be kidding me." By the time the light changed Sam was gone.
"...What the hell?"
—
Meanwhile...
Jessica appeared carrying two coffees. "There you guys are!"
Vivian immediately linked arms with Jessica using her free hand. "Oh, thank God you're finally here."
Jessica laughed softly. "Why?"
"I'm starving."
Jessica shook her head.
"Come on. Let's go before she starts eating the campus squirrels."
Viv gasped dramatically.
"I would never."
Sam raised an eyebrow as Jessica burst into laughter as the three disappeared down the sidewalk.
Vivian smiled, She really did.
Sam looked happy. Jessica made him laugh in a way she never could.
It still hurt sometimes—that tiny, stubborn piece of her heart that had never quite gotten over the twelve-year-old boy she'd kissed goodbye years ago—but she'd learned to live with it.
If Sam was happy then she'd be happy too.
Across campus Dean had completely lost them. "...Great." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't even know where he lives and now I lost him."
That evening, after spending the better part of an hour wandering around campus asking anyone who looked remotely familiar, Dean had learned exactly two things: everyone seemed to know Sam Winchester, and absolutely nobody knew where he lived.
Every conversation ended the same way.
"Do you know Sam Winchester?"
"Oh! Yeah."
"Where does he live?"
"...No idea."
"I've seen him with his girlfriend though."
"...Fantastic."
After giving up, Dean settled into a nearby diner, inhaling a thoroughly mediocre burger while staring out the window. Just as he was reaching for his coffee, a thought hit him so suddenly he nearly sat bolt upright.
"...Wait."
There was one person who'd definitely know where Sam lived.
"Vivian."
Dean let out a long sigh, rubbing a hand down his face. "...Damn." He didn't have her number.
A quick phone call later—
"Mrs. Callahan?"
"Oh! Dean?"
"Hi."
"It's been years! How are you?"
"Uh... alive."
"Good enough."
Dean cleared his throat before asking, "...Could I... maybe get Viv's number? I was looking for Sam, but I can't seem to get a hold of him."
Mrs. Callahan chuckled warmly on the other end of the line. "Oh! I didn't know you knew Vivian was at Stanford too. She was determined to keep that a secret from you."
Dean let out a small laugh, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah... Sam let it slip." (He didn't)
"Well," Eleanor replied with another amused laugh, "I suppose there's no point keeping it a secret anymore." She slowly recited Vivian's number while Dean scribbled it onto the nearest receipt.
"Thank you, Mrs. Callahan."
"You're very welcome, dear. Tell Viv I said hello."
"I will."
The call ended with a soft click. Dean glanced down at the number in his hand before allowing himself a small grin.
"That makes things easier."
Vivian was halfway through changing into an oversized hoodie when her phone began vibrating across her desk.
Unknown Number.
She frowned at the screen.
"Who...?"
The ringing stopped for all of two seconds, then it started again. "Oh my God, I'm coming!"
Hurriedly tugging her pants up, she hurried across the room and reached for the ringing phone, not even bothering to check the unfamiliar number before answering.
"Hello?"
There was a brief pause.
Then a voice she hadn't heard quietly answered. "...Hey."
"...This is Dean."
Her fingers tightened around the phone.
"...Dean?"
Another beat of silence stretched between them.
"Dean Winchester?"
"Last time I checked."
Vivian blinked several times, trying to convince herself she wasn't imagining things. "How do you have my number?"
"I asked your parents."
She stared blankly at the wall in front of her. "You what?!"
"Long story. Do you know where Sam lives?"
She simply stood there in complete disbelief, trying to process the fact that Dean Winchester—who had practically vanished from her life—was somehow calling her out of nowhere.
"...It's been seven years. And the first thing you say to me is—"
He cut in. "It's important."
She laughed in disbelief.
"You are somehow an even bigger jerk than twelve-year-old Dean."
Still laughing to herself, she wandered over to her bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress, shaking her head.
"It's an emergency."
"Then call Sam."
"He won't answer."
"Wonder why."
"Viv."
Without ending the call, she reached over to her desk, flipped open her laptop, and resumed working on the notes for the literature thesis she'd been writing all afternoon.
"What kind of emergency? Tell me," she asked, unable to hide the amusement in her voice. It wasn't every day Dean Winchester called her asking for a favor, and she was enjoying making him work for it.
There was a pause. Long enough for her fingers to stop moving across the keyboard.
She frowned. "...Is John dead?"
"What? No!"
Dean's answer came so quickly it almost made her jump.
She let out a small breath, the knot in her stomach loosening just a little.
Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a slow breath. "Can you just tell me where Sam lives?"
"No."
"...Vivian... please."
She couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips.
"...Say please again."
"Viv."
She smiled.
A laugh escaped her before she finally decided she'd tortured him enough.
"Alright, alright."
On the other end of the line, Dean let out the most exhausted groan she'd ever heard.
She slowly recited Sam's address while Dean repeated it under his breath, scribbling it onto the back of an the receipt before checking it twice.
Then the line went dead.
Viv slowly lowered the phone from her ear, staring at the now-dark screen.
"...Rude."
She tossed it onto the bed beside her with a dramatic sigh before returning to her desk, convinced that was probably the strangest phone call she'd had in years.
About fifteen minutes later—
Thump.
Her fingers paused over the keyboard at the sound of a dull thump somewhere inside the apartment. She frowned, lifting her head from the screen.
"...Sam?"
No answer.
The apartment fell eerily silent for a brief moment before another noise echoed through the hallway.
Clunk.
Slowly closing her laptop, Vivian slid off the bed and stood, her heart beginning to pound just a little faster.
"Jessie is that you?"
Still nothing.
She quietly crossed the room and reached for an old baseball bat she'd insisted on keeping despite Sam relentlessly teasing her about being "overprepared."
She carefully stepped into the hallway. At almost the exact same moment, Sam emerged from his bedroom. "I heard something," she whispered.
Sam gave a single nod. "I know."
His eyes shifted toward the floor below. "Go back inside."
Then he cautiously descended the stairs. Vivian remained at the top of the staircase.
"Sam..." she whispered.
He didn't answer.
The silence lasted no more than three seconds before a deafening crash shattered, followed almost immediately by another loud bang, the unmistakable sound of furniture scraping across the floor.
Vivian's heart lurched into her throat.
"Sam!"
Tightening her grip on the baseball bat she raced down the stairs two at a time. She reached the bottom to find two men locked in a brutal fight.
The man drove his elbow straight into Sam's face.
Sam staggered back before swinging a kick toward the stranger's head.
The man ducked effortlessly, countered with another swing, and Sam barely managed to block it before he was knocked onto his back.
The stranger pinned him to the floor in one fluid motion, one hand around Sam's throat while the other trapped his wrist against the carpet.
"Whoa, easy, tiger."
"LET HIM GO!"
Without thinking, Vivian charged forward and swung the baseball bat as hard as she could.
The stranger's eyes widened. "...What the—" He released Sam instantly, catching the bat inches before it connected with his head.
He yanked the baseball bat from Vivian's hands, tossing it across the room muttering, "That's dangerous,"
She stumbled back a, reaching over, she flicked on the living room light, flooding the apartment with warm light.
Sam breathed heavily as he looked up at the stranger, his expression shifting from alarm to complete disbelief.
"Dean?"
Dean broke into a grin. "Yeah." His gaze drifted back to Vivian, and for a brief moment he simply stared, his thoughts coming one after another.
What a shame. She's exactly my type... and she's dating Sam.
Before he could dwell on the unfortunate realization—Sam shot to his feet, glaring at him. "You scared the crap out of me!"
Dean finally looked away from Vivian. "That's 'cause you're out of practice."
"Oh, really?"
Sam grabbed Dean's arm, swept his leg, and sent Dean crashing face-first onto the carpet before planting a knee firmly between his shoulder blades.
"Or not," Dean groaned. "Get off of me." Sam rolled his eyes before helping his brother back to his feet.
Dean dusted himself off as though nothing had happened. "All right. We gotta talk."
Sam folded his arms.
"Uh, use the phone?"
Dean shrugged. "If I'd'a called, would you have picked up?" Vivian, picked up the baseball bat like she intended to use it if necessary, frowned. "...What are you even doing here?"
Dean finally turned to face her properly, an easy grin settling onto his face as he casually held out his hand. "Guess Sam never got around to mentioning he had an older brother."
Vivian looked at his outstretched hand before looking back up at him, thoroughly confused. "...Why are you talking to me like this?"
"Because you're Sam's girlfriend." Dean frowned as though the answer were obvious. "Figured I should make a decent first impression."
The apartment fell into a deafening silence.
"....."
"What?" Dean asked, glancing between them. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "Dean...she's not my girlfriend."
Dean laughed once, waiting for the punchline. "...Come again?"
"That's Vivian."
The grin slowly disappeared from Dean's face as he looked from Sam to Vivian, then back to Sam again before settling on her once more. "...No way."
Vivian folded her arms, raising an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
Dean stepped closer, openly studying her face.
She frowned. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Without answering, he took another step, tilting his head as though inspecting a museum exhibit.
"Dean."
He circled around her once. She turned with him, growing increasingly annoyed. "Would you stop doing that?"
Dean leaned in just enough for his eyes to widen in realization. "...No glasses?"
Vivian stared at him. "I got contact lenses."
Dean continued staring. "Braces?" Vivian stared at him in disbelief. "Those tend to come off after middle school!"
Just then, footsteps echoed.
"What happened?"
Jessica appeared, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She was dressed in a pair of very short sleep shorts and an oversized cropped Smurfs T-shirt, as she took in the scene before her.
"Sam?"
Sam and Dean turned their heads in unison. "Jess," Sam said, immediately relaxing. "Hey." He gestured toward Dean. "Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica."
Dean looked Jessica with an appreciative smile.
"Wait..." Jessica said, looking back at Sam. "Your brother Dean?"
Sam nodded.
Dean flashed his trademark grin as he stepped forward. "Oh, I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you..." He pointed toward Sam with his thumb. "You're completely out of my brother's league."
Jessica offered an awkward, uncertain smile. "Um... just let me go put something else on."
As she turned to leave. Dean called after her. "No, no, no. I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously."
Vivian shot Dean a look. Without a word, she slipped off her hoodie—thankfully still wearing a T-shirt underneath—and tossed it toward Jessica.
Jessica caught it in surprise before smiling gratefully.
"...Thank you."
Viv simply smiled back as she tugged it on.
"Anyway," Dean said, finally looking away, "I gotta borrow your boyfriend here. Little private family business."
"No." Sam walked over to Jessica and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Whatever you want to say..." he said firmly, "...you can say it in front of her."
Dean studied the two of them for a moment before giving a small nod. "Fine. Um...Dad hasn't been home in a few days."
Vivian quietly crossed the room and sat down in a nearby chair, sensing the mood shift almost instantly.
Sam barely reacted. "So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift." He shrugged, casually. "He'll stumble back in sooner or later."
Dean gave a humorless smile. "Dad's on a hunting trip and he hasn't been home in a few days."
"....."
Sam looked at Jessica. "Jess... excuse us." His voice was calm. "We have to go outside." She looked between the brothers before giving a small nod. "Yeah... yeah, sure."
After the brothers disappeared out the apartment door, Vivian remained where she was, absentmindedly tapping her foot against the floor. The silence stretched for nearly twenty seconds before Jessica glanced over at her.
"Should we...?"
Viv let out a quiet sigh and shook her head.
"No."
Another twenty seconds passed.
She looked toward the window, listening to the muffled sound of raised voices outside before slowly pushing herself to her feet. "...But I don't trust those two not to kill each other."
Jessica couldn't help letting out a small, nervous laugh as Vivian headed for the door. "I'll be back."
Outside, she found the brothers halfway down the stairwell. She didn't call out or interrupt them, choosing instead to trail several steps behind, quietly listening.
"I was nine years old!" Sam's voice echoed off the concrete walls. "He was supposed to say, 'Don't be afraid of the dark.'"
Vivian's chest tightened. Her own father had knelt beside her bed, checked the closet, looked beneath the mattress, and stayed until she fell asleep.
John Winchester had handed Sam a gun.
"Don't be afraid of the dark?" Dean shot back. "Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there."
Vivian lowered her gaze.
Unlike most people, she knew exactly what he meant.
Her family were not hunters, but the supernatural had never been dismissed as bedtime stories either.
While other children spent afternoons memorizing multiplication tables, Vivian had grown up memorizing Latin prayers, blessings, ancient exorcism rites, protective psalms and forgotten sigils carefully preserved by generations of her family.
By the time she was twelve, she could recite the Rite of Exorcism from memory without stumbling over a single word. Dean knew weapons. Sam knew research. Vivian knew rituals.
Different lives.
Different callings.
Yet somehow, they all led to the same monsters waiting in the dark.
She said nothing, allowing the brothers to keep arguing as she quietly followed a few paces behind, feeling more like a witness than a participant.
"We were raised like warriors, man," Sam said tiredly as the three of them crossed the parking lot toward the Impala. "So what are you gonna do?" Dean shot back. "You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?"
Behind them, Vivian couldn't help herself. "...Apple pie sounds nice."
Dean gave her a flat look.
Realizing she'd spoken out loud, she immediately raised both hands in surrender. "...Right. I'll zip it."
He shook his head, muttering something under his breath before continuing toward Baby. "I can't do this alone."
"Yes, you can," Sam answered quietly.
Dean lowered his eyes to the pavement. "Yeah," he admitted after a long pause. "Well... I don't want to."
Vivian's heart gave the tiniest squeeze.
Aw...
Before she could even smile—
Smack.
Dean reached back without looking and lightly slapped the back of her head.
She stared at him in complete offense.
"I didn't even say anything!"
Dean didn't bother turning around.
"You didn't have to. It was written all over your face."
Viv rubbed the back of her head before looking toward Sam. He let out a quiet sigh before looking back at Dean. "...What was he hunting?"
Without another word, Dean popped open the Impala's trunk before lifting the false floor covering the spare tire.
Vivian had expected to find jumper cables, maybe a toolbox, but her jaw dropped as the hidden compartment revealed itself to be less of a car trunk and more of a miniature armory.
Neatly packed was rows of knives, shotguns, boxes of ammunition, silver bullets, wooden stakes, iron chains, bottles of strange-looking liquids, holy water, and countless objects she couldn't even begin to identify.
"...Holy..."
Sam glanced at her reaction and couldn't help smiling. "Yeah."
Dean didn't even look up and began digging through the organized chaos. "Don't touch anything."
Vivian nodded obediently. "...Okay."
Not five seconds later...
"What's this?" Her fingers reached toward a wicked-looking silver knife. Dean slapped her hand away without so much as glancing up. "I said don't touch."
"I was just looking!"
"Look with your eyes."
She folded her arms.
"...You're no fun."
Still rummaging through the trunk, Dean muttered to himself. "All right... where the hell did I put that thing?"
Watching Dean, Vivian frowned before asking, "...Can I ask something?"
Dean responded with a distracted grunt, still rummaging through the trunk, and after a brief hesitation she continued, "When John left... why didn't you go with him?"
He casually replied. "I was working my own gig. Some voodoo thing down in New Orleans."
Sam blinked. "Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?"
Dean looked at him like the question itself was ridiculous. "I'm twenty-six, dude."
Vivian stared at him before slowly shaking her head. "That still sounds terrifying."
A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of Dean's mouth before he quickly hid it by reaching back into the trunk.
He finally pulled out a stack of newspaper clippings.
One by one, he explained how ten men had mysteriously vanished from the same stretch of Centennial Highway over the past twenty years, with the disappearances becoming more frequent.
Then he played a voicemail from John yesterday, warning that something big was coming and they were all in danger, before revealing a hidden EVP message buried beneath the recording of a woman saying, "I can never go home."
Vivian frowned as Dean clicked off the recorder. "Huh... I wonder why she can't go home."
Neither brother answered.
Dean quietly set the recorder back into the trunk before lowering the false floor. He shut the trunk, leaned back against Baby, and crossed his arms, his expression far more serious than it had been all night.
"You know..." he began quietly. "In almost four years, I've never bothered you. Never called. Never asked you for a damn thing."
Sam looked away, his jaw tightening as he stared at the asphalt for several long seconds before letting out a slow sigh. "...Alright."
Dean lifted his head.
"I'll go. I'll help you find him."
A small smile tugged at Dean's lips as he gave a single nod. "Thanks."
Sam pointed toward the apartment. "But I have to be back first thing Monday. Let me grab my bag."
"Hold up," Dean called after him. "What's first thing Monday?"
Sam hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck before finally admitting, "I have... an interview."
Dean blinked. "What, a job interview?" he said, dismissively. "Skip it."
Vivina shot him an incredulous look. "It's a law school interview."
Dean's eyebrows shot up. "...Law school?"
Sam nodded. "My entire future is basically riding on it."
Dean stared at him for a long moment before letting out a low whistle. "Damn." Sam folded his arms. "So? We got a deal or not?"
Dean simply nodded. "Deal."
After a brief silence, Vivian pointed a finger towards herself. "...Can I come?"
Both Winchester brothers turned toward her at the exact same time.
"No."
She actually flinched. "...Ow."
Dean pointed straight at her. "You've never hunted before."
"So?"
Dean looked at her ridiculously. "You'd slow us down."
"I would not!" Vivian folded her arms stubbornly. "I can keep up." Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "Viv..." She immediately turned to him with hopeful eyes. "Sam~~"
He sighed apologetically. "...Dean's right.You've never been on a hunt."
Vivian proudly pointed both thumbs toward herself. "Yeah... but I know a lot of theory."
Dean couldn't help scoff. "You know Latin." Vivian lifted her chin proudly. "I know excellent Latin."
Dean stared at her for a long second before shaking his head. "You scream at ghost movie."
Throwing both hands into the air in exasperation, she protested, "You literally just said you'll be back by Monday!" She pointing between the two brothers. "So what's the worst that could happen in two days?"
Dean and Sam immediately exchanged a long, knowing look without saying a word.
She glanced briefly at Sam before looking back at Dean and offered him a small, very fake smile. "I won't get in the way."
Dean raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You promise you'll do exactly what I say."
"...Mostly."
"Viv."
"...Everything," she corrected with an exaggerated sigh.
Dean glanced toward Sam, who simply shrugged. "...She won't listen if we leave her behind."
Vivian's face instantly lit up. "So that's a yes?"
Dean pointed a warning finger at her. "This is temporary."
"I'll take it."
"You follow every instruction I give you."
She nodded, straightening, "Yes, sir."
"You stay behind us and you don't wander off, you don't touch anything."
Vivian narrowed her eyes. "...That one feels oddly specific."
"Because it is." Dean replied without missing a beat, earning a quiet laugh from Sam before finally shaking his head in defeat. "...Fine."
Vivian punched the air triumphantly. "YES!"
She spun toward the apartment. "Let me go grab my stuff!"
"Me too," Sam laughed, already heading inside.
Dean watched them disappear before muttering to himself, "...I've lost my mind."
—
A few minutes later, Dean leaned casually against Vivian's bedroom doorframe, a beer in one hand, watching in mild amusement as she hurried around the room throwing clothes into an small duffel bag.
Vivian quickly packed a pair of jeans, a sweater, and a flashlight into her duffel.
She reached onto the top shelf of her bookcase for an old, well-worn Bible whose pages had clearly been turned thousands of times, followed by a rosary that she tucked carefully beside it.
Dean stared in disbelief. "...Seriously? A Bible....and a rosary?"
She gave an innocent shrug. "My grandmother would probably haunt me if I left without them."
Dean chuckled into his beer. "I thought ghosts were exactly what we were trying to avoid." Vivian rolled her eyes, tossing another shirt into the bag.
Taking another sip, he asked. "...You really serious about this?" She zipped the duffel nodding. "I'm more curious than scared."
Dean let out a laugh. "You scream during ghost movies."
"I scream because they always have that unnecessary background music," She defended with complete seriousness, earning an utterly bewildered look from Dean before she casually reached for the phone. "Who're you calling?" he asked.
"My dad." The call connected almost immediately. "Hi, Daddy."
Dean nearly inhaled his beer. Vivian shot him a warning glance, don't start. On the other end of the line, her father answered warmly, "Everything alright, sweetheart?"
Vivian smiled sheepishly. "...I'm not going to class tomorrow."
"Aww...Why?"
"I'm going ghost hunting."
"....."
"...You're going what?"
"Daddy, remember John Winchester? He's missing." Dean and Sam are going to look for him, and... I might end up helping."
Her father let out a long, disbelieving sigh. "...And your first thought was to go with them?"
"...Yes?"
Her father let out such a dramatic sigh that she instinctively held the phone away from her ear. "Vivian..."
"Please?"
He'd known the Winchesters for years, knew John had practically become family after Mary's death, and if there was anywhere his daughter would be safest, it was with Dean and Sam.
Besides, the Callahans had always lived by one simple belief: attempt the impossible, even when you know you cannot succeed.
"Pretty please?" Vivian asked in the softest, most innocent voice she could manage.
Dean let out an exaggerated sigh, took one last sip of his beer, then crushed the empty can in one hand with a loud crunch before effortlessly tossing it across the room. It landed neatly in the wastebasket beside her desk.
"...Show-off," Vivian muttered.
Dean wandered farther into the room, his gaze drifting across the walls. Framed photographs covered almost every available space—school pictures, birthday parties, vacations, science fairs, graduation ceremonies.
Most were of Vivian and Sam growing up together, laughing with scraped knees, missing teeth, and crooked smiles. Every now and then, a much younger Dean appeared in the corner of a picture, usually wearing the same cocky grin he still had today.
On the other end of the phone, Vivian's father let out a quiet, defeated chuckle. "...Be careful."
Vivian's face immediately brightened. "I will." A small smile tugged at her lips. "Love you, Daddy."
As soon as she hung up, she turned to find Dean staring at her "...You're twenty-two," he said slowly, "...and you still call your father 'Daddy'?"
Vivian blinked innocently. "...What exactly is your problem?"
Dean opened his mouth, thought better of whatever comeback he'd been about to make, and simply closed it again. "...Nothing."
A smug smile spread across Vivian's face as she slung her bag over one shoulder. "Thought so."
As they stepped out into the hallway, Jessica quietly caught Vivian's wrist."You're going too?"
Viv nodded.
Jessica's smile faded.
She glanced toward the window, at Sam who was loading his bag into the Impala. "Be careful, both of you."
Viv followed her gaze before looking back at Jessica. She gave a small, reassuring nod.
"Alway."
With that promise lingering between them, Vivian turned and walked toward the waiting Impala.