The Records of Dean Winchester and Elena Gilbert

Incipient

Incipient |inˈsipēənt|

            adjective

            In an initial stage; beginning to happen or develop

            [Editor's note]: Contrary to popular beliefs, Elena Gilbert and Dean Winchester did not meet for the first time in the fall of 2013. Technically they'd met years prior in an old salvage yard, but they were not aware of this fact. The only people who were aware were Mr. John Winchester, Elena's parents, and the owner of the salvage yard, Bobby Singer. All were deceased before the couple "officially" met.

July 22nd, 1994

            "Dad, we don't need a babysitter. I can take care of Sammy on my own," Dean insists, tapping his foot against the base of the car. The Impala purrs beneath him, but the familiar feel does nothing to calm him down. "I'm fifteen, dad. You really gonna treat me like a child?"

            "After that stunt you pulled last month, you're damn right I am," John snaps, not bothering to turn his attention away from the road. It was clear this argument wasn't worth his father's time, but Dean wasn't about to give up.

            "That's bullshit and you know it!" Dean hits the dashboard with his open palm, the sound almost loud enough to wake Sam in the backseat.

"Hey, watch your mouth, son," John warns, casting a pointed look in Dean's direction. Dean shrinks back, melting into the leather seats. "I've made up my mind. You're staying with Singer until I get this case taken cared of. Shouldn't be longer than a week or two anyway."

            "But dad—"

            "I don't wanna hear another word about it," John hisses, finally silencing his eldest son. Grunting when Dean doesn't say anything, John reaches forward and turns on the radio.

            The gravelly sound of AC/DC fills the car until the car rolls to a stop outside the old salvage yard. The sight of the rickety sign and stacked rusted cars is familiar. Sam and Dean had spent plenty of time here over the years, staying with old Mr. Singer while their dad hunted. They hadn't been here in a long time, though.

            "Sammy, hey, Sam wake up." John leans over the front seat, gingerly shaking the young boy. Blinking his eyes open, Sam sits up and turns to Dean. He knew his older brother was trying to get them out of this, but one look was all it took to know he'd been unsuccessful. "Alright boys, grab your bags and head on up to the house. Bobby's waitin' for you."

            Nodding, Sam picks up his bag from the seat next to him and clambers out of the car. After a slight hesitation, Dean follows suit. Dean watches his father drive away before putting his hand on his little brother's back and pushing him towards the house.

            Bobby was always happy to see them. He had more than a few spare rooms in the place, but it was clear they were hardly used. The only people to stay at "Casa Singer" were kids like Sam and Dean—there weren't many of them—and the random hunter. For most this was just a pit stop, a wayward home with a grumpy old man for a roommate.

            The man himself wasn't all that bad. Sure he was a bit of a drunk and had a mouth like a sailor, but he had kind eyes and a heart of gold. Dean really didn't mind staying with Bobby—if he was being honest, the old man was more of a father to him than John was—but it was the principle.