Tragedy ° DEAN WINCHESTER

xviii. | emery, the vampire slayer

Disclaimer; I don't own spn

Dead Man's Blood; Part Two
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"I got to say something to you. I'm proud of us." -Dean Winchester

EMERY WATCHED THE GUY SHE HYPNOTIZED get out of his shit-tastic car. She was glaring at the back of his head as she watched him enter the barn the nest was in, being ushered by another vampire.

"Son of a bitch," Dean voiced. "So, they really aren't afraid of the sun."

"Direct sunlight hurts like a nasty sunburn," John stated. "The only way to kill them is beheading."

"Finally," Emery stated. "We get to do something fun."

Sam and Dean gave her a weird look. She smiled at them cutely and rustled the bush she was sitting in a little. It was rather uncomfortable sitting in thorns, but John said they needed to stay low and watch, so that's what they were doing.

It sucked, but it was life.

"And, yeah, they sleep during the day, but that doesn't mean they don't wake up," John stated, ignoring Emery's comment.

"So, I guess walking right in isn't our best option," Dean said.

"I say we do it anyway," Emery said. "We can take them."

This time, she was ignored by all three of the Winchester men.

"Actually, that's the plan," John stated, Emery fist pumping the air.

She didn't know why she was acting like this. Maybe it was the fact that she cried all night yesterday. Or maybe it was that blue vein thing's fault, but she just really wanted to kill some monsters.

She wanted to feel like her old self again, before John told her she was supernatural. When all she had to worry about was trying not to be killed by monsters and trying to not show her feelings for Dean Winchester.

Those were simpler times.

They went back to the cars, Dean and John opening up their arsenals. Emery stared at John's as it robotically came out, opening automatically. It was already organized, unlike Dean's.

She hated it already.

Dean handed her a machete and she gave him a smile. Emery unsheathed it, making sure it was sharp, before sheathing it again.

"Hey, Dad, I've got an extra machete if you need one," Dean stated, holding up said machete, the leather sheath worn.

John drew his own machete, looking over at the boys and Emery, "I think I'm okay, thanks."

Show off.

"Wow," Dean stated as Emery and Sam secured their machetes onto their pants.

Once done, Emery grabbed both Sam's and Dean's hands, giving them a comforting squeeze. John was being his usual self, but it was taking a toll on both boys. Sam because he wanted to know everything about what was happening and Dean because he just wanted his family back to normal.

Whatever that meant.

"Okay," John stated. "You really want to know about this colt?"

"Yes, sir," Sam answered as all three young hunters looked at John.

"It's just a story, a legend really. Well, I thought it was. Never really believed it 'til I read Daniel's letter.

"Back is 1835, when Haley's Comet was overhead, same night those men died at the Elmo, they say Samuel Colt made a gun. A special gun. He made it for a hunter. A man like us, only on horseback.