How Could You

A First Encounter

Usually, you were pretty territorial over your hunts. But honestly, if he hadn't come along, you really would have died. Most hunters that chased down the same hunt you did would claim that they saved your life, when in reality you usually saved theirs. You always know when to call someone out on their bullshit and when to accept their help. This was the time for you to accept help. That's why you weren't upset that he saved you. Not at him, at least. You were mostly upset with yourself, for needing someone to save you.
And right now, since you were laying on the ground, just about bleeding out from a stab wound, you desperately needed someone to save you. After all, what was killing a nest of vampires worth if they killed you back? Shortly after you beheaded what you thought was the last one, another vamp took your machete and stabbed you in the side. You pulled it out and gave one last swipe, slicing across the vampire's neck, decapitating it, before you collapsed and fell to the ground. A few minutes later you heard footsteps. Cautious footsteps. Human footsteps, hunter's footsteps. "Help," you tried to gasp out, choking on your own blood. "Please," you whined. You doubted you were loud enough for whoever it was to hear you. "Help!" You began coughing, and your vision started to blur from the loss of blood.
Suddenly, the footsteps got faster. They were running towards you. You heard the sound of a gun dropping to the ground- something all too familiar to you. Someone tried pulling you up off the ground, though you couldn't see who. But you did hear his voice. "Hey! Hey! Stay with me," he shouted desperately. His voice was rough, gravelly. Been through way too much. "No, hey, come on stay with me. You're gonna be okay." He wrapped something around your wound and then picked you up. You could feel he was going as fast as he could to bring you somewhere safe. "I'm gonna get you some help," he reassured you, his voice shaking as he ran.
The next thing you know, you wake up in a cozy bedroom. One in a cabin, you guess. But you're hooked up to an IV, wearing an oversized tee shirt, and your side isn't so sore. You pull back the blanket over you to take a look at your wound. Someone had clearly stitched it up and dressed it properly. There wasn't any blood coming through, which you only assume is a good thing. Just then, you hear two sets of heavy footsteps coming your way. You quickly pull the blanket back over yourself and close your eyes. "Couldn't stop hunting, huh, Dean?" One of the men asks. It isn't the same man that saved you though. While the voice was similar in gruffness, it was older.
"You know me, Bobby. Couldn't get out even if I tried," Dean says. Dean is your savior. It's the same voice, less desperate now that you aren't dying in a vampire nest.
"Well, I think she'll be alright," Bobby says. "Now that we've got some blood back into her. She should be waking up soon." One of the men leaves the room, you guess it's Bobby.
Then Dean approaches you. You feel a hand lift your wrist, you assumed to check that the IV is still in. You choose that moment to open your eyes. Holy shit, this guy is way too handsome to be a hunter, you think when you see him. He's got a strong jawline, some stubble, dirty blondish-brown hair, and beautiful green eyes. "Hey," he says nervously.
"Hi," you reply. You don't know what else to say.
"I take it you're the one that took down that nest? You don't seem like the blood slave type," he says.
You smile. "Yeah, I took it down. Before I almost died... You saved my life."
"That's what we do. Save people. Isn't it?"
"Yeah, I guess. Not supposed to let the monsters kill you, though."
He snickers. "No, probably not," he replies. "You need to stay here for a few days while you heal up. Hope that's not a big deal."
"No, you saved my life. I get that. I do need rest," you admit. "What's your name?" you ask. You know it's Dean, but you want to know his full name. Maybe he'll give it to you.
"Dean Winchester," he tells you.
"Sounds familiar," you say. "Like John Winchester?"
"Yeah, you know him?"
"No, but I know who he is. I'm [Y/N]. [Y/N][Y/L/N]."
"Pleasure. Well, I'll let you get some rest. Just shout if you need anything," he says before leaving the room.

Your wound took a couple weeks to heal, all of which you spent in Bobby's cabin with him and Dean. They welcomed you like family- something nearly all hunters do when they come across one another.
You still lay in bed when there's a knock on the door. "Come in," you call.
Dean opens the door with one hand, holding his laptop in the other. "Hey, we uh, found a case a few hours away. Thought that maybe since you're mostly healed up you could come with, help out," he proposes.
You smile. "Depends. What kind of case are we talking about?"
"Simple salt and burn we think. You in?"
You put down the book you were reading and get up off the bed. "Sure thing. When are we leaving?"
Dean grins and closes his laptop. "Pack your bag, and we'll head out now," he tells you. He leaves the room while you shove what little you have into your backpack. You would have more, but your car had gotten torched back at the vampire nest sometime between the hunt and when Dean and Bobby tried to go back for it.
When you go downstairs and see that Bobby's car is gone, your face sparks confusion. "Bobby not coming with?"
"No, he's got some other business he's trying to take care of. But we can take down a ghost with two of us."
"Well I mean, I'm sure either one of us could do it single-handed. So why do you want me to come?" you ask.
"Guess I just don't like working alone... not really used to it," Dean answers.
"You had a partner," you say.
He nods. "My brother. But he's uh... out of the picture now. Just me."
"Oh," you say quietly. "Well, then let's get to it." You follow him out to the Impala, settling in for the road trip.

Dean was right about the case being a ghost, but it was not at all a 'simple salt and burn'. More like a family of five vengeful spirits against two hunters. Sure you could take care of them, but when they outnumbered you and were actively teaming up against you, it was a little harder.
So of course you were pissed at Dean for not realizing it was more than one ghost, especially since he wouldn't let you see the research because he 'had it all handled'.
Plus, you got pretty roughed up in the fight, being flung around and what not. Once they were all taken care of, you gassed up the family farm and threw a match in it, telling Dean to step back. After you watched the flames grow in front of you for a few minutes, you turned around and walked away, towards the road.
"Hey, where are you going?" Dean shouted.
"Away from you. We don't make a good team," you reply.
He jogs to catch up to you and grabs your wrist, which you immediately pull away from him. "Okay, I'm sorry," he says.
"Dean, you may have saved my life two weeks ago, but because of you I almost just lost it again. You may not be able to work alone, but I can. I can do my job perfectly fine without your help." You could see he was fuming, clenching his fists and tightening his jaw. But you knew it wasn't you that he was mad at. So you turned around and walked away, traveling along the road until you got to the nearest town, to the nearest bar.
You were about four drinks in when Dean sat on the freshly vacant bar stool beside yours. "I'm sorry-"
"Save it," you interrupted. "I'm not here to talk to you. Or anyone. Especially not about hunting." With that, you downed another glass of whiskey and coke.
Your motions and speech were both slurred, and Dean could tell. So he called the bartender over and began drinking with you. Didn't talk, he knew you didn't want to. He'd only had a couple of drinks when he decided it was time for you to stop. You weren't a lightweight by any means, no hunter is, but that didn't change the fact that you had a much smaller frame and you were drinking on an empty stomach. So he threw down some cash to pay your tab and helped you back to his car.
Dean knew it was best for him to drive as little as possible, so he found the nearest motel and got a double room for the night. You needed the rest way more than he did. However, you were a stubborn one, and refused to go to sleep.
Dean was stubborn too, so he pulled his own personal bottle of liquor out of his hunting bag and sat in the chair across from your bed. About an hour passed, and Dean had gone through almost half the bottle while the two of you stared angrily at each other. "You need rest," he said.
"So do you. You're not my babysitter," you retorted. An hour hadn't been nearly enough time for the alcohol you had consumed to leave your system yet. And staring at Dean wasn't helping your 'beer goggles' one bit. You scooted down to the edge of your bed, sitting about two feet directly across from Dean.
Dean would never admit it, but he was getting- if not already- drunk. What he would admit though was that he had a weak spot for women, and that he was especially riled up after a hunt gone not too great. You stared at each other for a good few minutes before he caved in to his drunkenness and pulled you in for a rough kiss. Of course, you being you, a hunter that would never find a real relationship and would take sex whenever you could, you kissed him back.
Dean stood up and picked you up by your thighs, his lips never once leaving yours. And once you were on the bed beneath him it was over. You knew you shouldn't because you were drunk, but he was drunk too and you were both sexually frustrated as hell, so you didn't say anything. You didn't say anything when the clothes came off. You didn't say anything as he kissed and bit your neck, as he squeezed your ribs, wrapped your legs around him. You just gasped and moaned and pulled his hair and scratched his back as he pushed inside of you. The moment he removed his mouth from your neck, you pulled his face to yours and bit his lower lip, starting a war of teeth and tongues. His thrusts had begun slowly, but gradually got faster, never failing to hit every sweet spot you had. You could tell he was close because he stopped the battle for your mouths and just pressed his forehead against yours and breathed and god, he was hot. You chose that moment to clench around him, and that's how you pulled it out of him. As soon as he was undone, so were you, and suddenly you were both just a heaving pile of limbs and sweat.
Being as drunk as you were, the two of you fell asleep almost instantly. But as soon as you woke up in the morning, you took a piss, took a shower, and took your things. The only thing you left behind was a note on the hotel paper that had your phone number and the words, Don't call me unless it's an emergency.