Tragedy ° DEAN WINCHESTER

one shot. | love you goodbye

EMERY WILSON WAS A HUNTER. HAS been since she was twelve years old. John Winchester took her in, after saving her from a werewolf that killed both her parents. That '67 Impala was her home, just as much as it was Sam and Dean's.

Emery Wilson was also in love with Dean Winchester. He was a dick at times, along with very sarcastic and witty, and his only love was for classic rock, his dad's classic car, bacon cheeseburgers, pie, and sex. Still, her heart seem to speed up whenever she heard his voice and stomach fill with a zoo every time he smiled at her.

Another need to know about little Emery was that she was adopted twice. Once by her loving family, the Wilsons, and another by John Winchester. And that takes us to the start of our one shot.

It had been maybe a couple of months into looking for her birth parents. Emery was nineteen and was low on money and gas. As she was cruising down the highway, her car sputtered, and she was forced to turn into the parking lot of a rundown bar. Titled Roadhouse, Emery noticed as she looked at the sign, before cursing the stupid car. It may have been out of gas (and fumes, it seemed) but it still could have gotten her to at least the next city. Apparently, the girl had been wrong.

Getting out of the beat up car, Emery grabbed her messenger bag and slung it over her shoulder, going to the entrance. The bar was blasting classic rock music and Emery felt her heart squeeze with longing for the obnoxious boy named Dean. Stupid heart.

Entering the bar, a couple of people looked up upon the door slamming shut. Emery's eyes widened as she took in the familiar faces of hunters and smiled casually at all of them. She knew she looked like crap. Her face was probably dirty and bloody from the vampire she had killed less than a day ago and her shirt was torn from a werewolf that had decided that she was his next victim. Of course, the wound was still bandaged, the white with a spot of red making an appearance every second or so.

Emery's boots made noises against the old wood flooring as she made her way to the bar, awkwardly sitting down and putting her bag on the floor underneath her. Not even a minutes later, a pretty blonde walked up to her, a smile on her face. Emery gave one back, though she knew that she wasn't going to buy anything.

The blonde however, got a glass out from the counter and filled it up with beer, the golden liquid looking rather satisfying in the tall glass.

"I didn't order this," Emery stated as Blondie put it on the bar in front of her. The girl looked at the glass, then at Emery, before a sheepish smile appeared on her face.

"It's on the house. You look like you just came out of Hell," the girl explained, sliding the glass closer to Emery.

"Well, thanks..."

"Jo."

"Nice to meet you, Jo, I'm Emery."

•_•_•_•

It wasn't long after that that Emery got a job at the Roadhouse. Which she spent most of her time there, smiling and laughing with Jo.

And maybe she flirted a tiny bit. It wasn't her fault. Jo was a very attractive blonde woman and Emery just thought she may have jumped into line to at least try and butter her up, even if she does get rejected. So, whenever she felt like she had at least a small chance, Emery would whisper a flirtatious line into Jo's ear. That, or something dirty that the girl wouldn't like to repeat.

The surprising thing was that Jo made the first move. Emery had been taking out the trash to a dumpster in the back when she heard footsteps. Jo had decided to follow the brunette, who had turned around to see her the blonde sheepishly standing there.