Decapitation of... who?

Dean’s POV

I made my way over to Annie. She was now sobbing and clutching her left wrist.

“Dean?” Sam nudged me.

I looked at him. He was pointing to a body, lying on the flattened roof of Annie’s car. I grimaced and shrugged. “We can deal with it later.” I pushed open the door. Annie looked up in surprise, her wide blue eyes were scared and withdrawn, her normally silky brown hair was knotted and wild. She quivered with fear. Her skin was pale, and she slumped in resignation. Her pressed white blouse and black apron, her uniform at the bar, were torn and dusty, alcohol stained her shirt and apron. Her skirt, black as well, was crumpled in a neglected sort of way. Tears formed snail tracks down her face. Mascara streaked her cheeks. She was a mess.

“Are you alright?” I asked Annie gently. 

“I guess so,” she replied in a quiet, rather scared voice voice.

“Wow,” Sam commented, coming in behind me, surveying the scene. “What happened here?”

I glanced at Annie worriedly, she wasn’t to know our secret. So I leaned over and whispered, “A vampire attack,” in Sam’s ear.

I turned back to Annie, “You mind if we take a quick look around? Then I’ll take you out for coffee.” I turned back to Sam, he was grinning rather cheekily, I scowled at him in response. I saw a movement in the corner of my eye. I looked at my brother, who was solemnly holding one of his fake FBI ID’s, introducing himself as Agent Wesson. I snorted a little. “Uh, Sammy, not needed,” I pointed out quietly. I turned back to Annie, who was frowning, having read Sam’s ID.

“I thought your last name was Winchester?” she said accusingly.

I put on a sheepish face. “It is.”

“Then how come your brother is now agent Wesson?” she just about yelled. I flinched and turned to glare at Sammy, who mouthed “Sorry.”

I quickly improvised a story as I turned back to Annie.

“See.” I started. “Sam and I used to be Wesson, back when we were younger, before, before,” I paused, thinking up an excuse, “before our parents died. A couple of years later we changed our name to Winchester, because we didn’t want to be associated with that fire.”

“Everyone was blaming us for it,” Sam added, evidently catching on.

“But why does your FBI thing say Agent Wesson?” Annie pressed, half glaring at Sam.

“Because, Sam and I are both FBI agents. But he joined before me. Before we changed our name. So he is still Wesson, and mine is Winchester.”

Annie nodded, frowning, still looking slightly suspicious.

“So can we look around?” Sam pressed.

Annie narrowed her eyes at me. “Where’s your ID then?”

The corners of my mouth pulled down. I checked my pockets doubtfully. “I don’t have it.” I said, pretending to be disappointed. “It’s probably in the Impala. I’ll go get it.” I started to walk towards the door casually, hands in the pockets of my worn, brown leather jacket.

“No wait!” Annie exclaimed, her desire to stay with me obviously getting the better of her. “Stay! It doesn’t matter!”