The Aftermath: a Dean Winchester Fanfic

chapter 1

PART |

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Present Day- [Emery]
The best and worst day of my life started when I woke up with a massive headache, right next to Dean Winchester.

Sheets covered his waist, but his bare, strong chest stood out. We were in his room, and he was still asleep. I looked around for my clothes and attempted to quietly throw on my old t-shirt, which happened to be Dean's anyway.

I faintly recalled what happened last night. I couldn't believe it. We did it. I had sex with Dean.

My old self would have been thrilled. But after trying to get over him for the past year, this was not the setback I needed.

I know what you're gonna say; any girl would be lucky to be in my position, to have a chance to fuck either Winchester. Yeah, well, that's what I used to think, too.

With his stunning good looks, charming personality, and self-righteous exterior, Dean seems like a great catch.

But when he's your sorta ex--boyfriend and current best friend, it gets a little more complicated.

Dean began to stir a bit, and I took a moment to admire all his freckles. They dotted his skin and made him look fragile when he slept, though I knew that wasn't true. He was anything but soft and delicate. When he slept, he looked younger and innocent, like he couldn't kill any monster in the world. With his eyes closed, I couldn't even see their brilliant green color, but he was still somehow beautiful.

I tried to remember how I ended up there, before we actually got into bed. I remembered faintly hunting with the boys, drinking a lot and...

Oh, God. I finally realized how screwed I was.

Then, I remembered what had caused Dean and I to drink, what had probably caused us to get into bed together.

I sold my soul for the Winchesters.

40 hours earlier

Music blasted. The sun was setting. Dean played air drums on the steering wheel of his beautiful '67 Chevy Impala. Sam sat in the passenger seat trying to read an article in the newspaper while laughing at his big brother.

I smiled. Days like these were my favorite; when we would just drive around for hours, playing rock music, put all the windows down, looking for a case.

I sat in the backseat and grinned. It was good to see the boys so happy. For the past two years, they had been like my family. They'd been through a lot, but they'd somehow always found a way to support me. Sam and Dean were like my older brothers.

Well, besides that thing Dean and I had a while back. That's just complicated, but it was definitely not sibling-like. I foolishly thought we could have a future. But hunters don't get that kind of happily ever after. I should have know that. And turns out Dean doesn't get into long term relationships. Now I know that any relationship between the two of us would go no where, no matter what kind of connection we have.

My parents died when I was twenty three. My little brother, Luke, only sixteen at the time, went to live with my grandparents. I was old enough to go off on my own, so I did. I was convinced there was something else to my parents' "animal attack". I did research, got into the hunting world.

My obsession with hunting eventually cut me off from my family. I stopped talking to Luke before he even graduated high school. I miss him, more than anything. And I will always feel guilty for leaving him. But he's better and safer off without me.

I got the Wendigo that killed my parents a few years later, but never stopped hunting. It felt like my actual job after that long.

Almost a decade later later, the Winchester boys found me when I was outnumbered by werewolves. They saved my ass. Ever since then, I just kinda stuck around, and they just took me in as one of their own.

"So, what do you think, Em?" Dean asked.

"What?" I asked after I had zoned out for a while.

"You wanna get some grub or go straight to a motel?" Sam repeated.

"I say food," I replied.

"That's my girl," Dean grinned and took a left turn.

I smiled as I reached up and ruffled his hair.

//

The next morning, Sam shook Dean and I awake. He had been up all night researching. After I opened my eyes a bit and groaned, Sam handed me a cup of coffee. I thanked him and finally got out of bed.

I saw the boys at the small motel desk. Dean was leaning over his little brother's shoulder and Sam pointed something out.

Dean wore an unbuttoned red flannel over a simple black shirt. He had sharp, distinct, facial features. He was pretty tall, at least a little taller than me. He had short, light brown hair and bright green eyes that demanded your attention.

Sam looked over at me. He had longer brown hair, a few inches from reaching his chin. Dean was always bothering him to cut it. He wore a buttoned flannel, which was his normal attire. He had cute, strong features. I couldn't put my finger on exactly what color Sam's eyes were. They were usually hazel, but they changed color so much it was hard to keep track. He was easily as handsome as his big brother. Good genetics, huh?

"You coming, Emery?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," I said as I hoped out of bed and joined them by Sam's laptop.

"So, get this," Sam started, "There was a girl found murdered in her house in Kansas, two days ago, not too far from here. All the doors were locked, door bolted, no fingerprints, no signs of struggle. There was just a mangled body."

"You think this could be our kinda thing?" Dean asked.

"I think it's worth checking out," Sam said.

"How about we go grab some breakfast first, then head over? It's about a hour drive, and it's only eight," Dean suggested.

"Sounds good to me," I replied and Sam nodded.

I walked across the motel and started tossing some of my stuff in a bag.

"Don't you wanna change before we leave?" Dean teased. I was in sweatpants and an old, slightly small t-shirt.

"Yeah, yeah," I said as I threw a pillow at him.

Looking back, I wish more than anything that Sam had never found that case. It screwed us all.