How Could You

An Upsetting Reunion

About three years later.

You could hardly remember the past few months. That's why, as soon as you gained consciousness and you made sure you were in control of your body, your hunter instincts took over. You had woken up in some motel room, and you searched desperately for your hunting bag, to no avail. You couldn't even find your car keys. All you had on your person was your burner phone. Which was dead. You hoped maybe the charger was in the room too, and you finally got lucky when it was plugged into an outlet. Once you plugged your phone in, you scrolled through all of your contacts, searching for one in particular. Another stroke of luck, he answered the call. "Hello?"
"I need help," you said, your voice shaky. "I'm stranded in some motel room, I don't have anything. I can't salt the place or make any devils traps or holy water-"
"Wait, what happened?"
"I don't know! Everything for the past however many months is a blur! I just... I need some help from another hunter," you weeped.
"Okay. Where are you, do you know?"
You shook your head, looking around the room for any sign of a location. You saw a picture on the wall of the 'Welcome to Vegas' sign and promptly opened the curtain to look out the window. Far off in the distance, you saw light pollution from where you could only assume was Las Vegas. Turning your head the other way, you caught a glimpse of the motel's sign. "I think I'm in a motel outside of Vegas. The Grenwick."
"Sending someone your way," the hunter said before hanging up.
Once you were off the phone, you stripped down and got in the shower. After washing your hair and body, you didn't have the energy to do much else but sit down in the tub, holding your knees to your chest, and you let the water run over you. You didn't know how much time passed before someone kicked the door in, but you didn't care.
"[Y/N]?" A familiar voice asked from just outside the bathroom door. You slowly turned your head to see Dean Winchester. And when he saw that it was you, he rushed into the bathroom, shut the water off, and threw a towel over you. "What happened?" he asked quietly.
"Demon," another voice said. He stepped forward into the doorframe and tilted his head towards your back. That's when Dean saw it. Your anti-possession tattoo had been sliced right down the middle. He could tell there were multiple cuts by the scarring where it had tried to heal just to be sliced over again. A demon had been possessing you for months, but because of the ink, had to repeatedly break the lock you had put on your body to secure it from evil spirits.
That's when some of it came back to you. A sudden flash of the memory of getting attacked on a hunt, feeling the sting between your shoulder blades, but your attacker was careful not to stab you fatally. Why would they do that?
"We need to get her out of here," the other man says.
Dean nods and focuses on helping you, but all you can do is look at his face. He's aged. Not badly, but he looks far more than just three years older. And you had thought he'd seen some shit when you first met him. You can only imagine what a Winchester would see in three years. Three years is a long time for hunters, given that you all have a short life expectancy. Thirty is lucky, forty is pushing it, and no one ever lives to see fifty. Not in this life. Lots of monsters to hunt in three years.
"[Y/N]!" Dean yells, you suspect it isn't the first time either. You hum in response. He's got you back into your clothes and he's strapping you into the car. "I need you to tell us everything," he says as he drives off.
"Who's he?" you ask groggily.
"I'm Sam-" the other man begins to say.
"I'll explain later," Dean interrupts.
"Where are we going?" you continue asking questions.
"Somewhere safe. Tell us what you know," Dean replies.
"Dean, I don't know anything. The last thing I remember is from October. I was hunting something, I guess it turned out to be a demon, and it attacked me and cut my tattoo. That's all I know."
"Oh [Y/N]..." Dean says.
"What?" you ask.
"It's February..." Sam tells you.
"Please tell me it's 2013 not 2014," you say, fearful.
"It's 2013. But that still leaves you with about four unaccounted for months," Dean points out.
"Yeah, I realize that," you spit.
You figure Dean doesn't have anything else to say because he simply remained silent after that. After a few quiet minutes pass, you begin to talk to the other man, Sam. "So your name is Sam?" you ask to confirm.
"Yeah," he nods. "Sam Winchester."
You pause, confused. Dean said his brother was gone. So why? "You're Dean's brother?"
"What, he didn't say anything about me?" Sam asks surprisedly.
"All he said... was that he used to have a partner, his brother, and that he was out of the picture..." you told Sam. You could almost hear Dean cringe at the sound of you talking about him as if he weren't there.
"Dean, was this after-"
"Yeah. I told you I couldn't stop hunting," he says gruffly.
"After what?" you prod.
Sam seems to decide maybe there was a reason Dean hadn't told you everything, because he then says, "Tell you later. It's complicated."
"I'm a hunter, I eat complicated for breakfast," you sass. Sam chuckles, but your ride continues in silence. Until you reach your destination.
Dean insists on helping you walk inside, and you don't want to argue, so you just let him. It's a bunker. A huge bunker- a hunter's heaven you find out. The brothers didn't tell you much, but they did tell you about this. The Men of Letters, the key their grandfather gave them. You were certain even that wasn't the full story, but it was enough.
Once you get to your new room, Dean helps you into the bed and closes the door. "What happened?" he asks confrontationally.
You groan. "I told you!"
"No, not about that. Three years ago, what happened?" He wanted answers and you had none to give.
"What do you mean what happened?" you ask, not sure what he wanted you to say.
"Well I mean, I know what happened but... what happened? Why'd you leave? In like, one of the most cliche ways possible, might I add."
"Well, I left because we didn't make good hunting partners and I work alone and I thought you could find someone else. You're the one that followed me. So I had to leave when you couldn't follow me," you explain.
"So you just slept with me so that you could sneak out in the morning when I wouldn't follow you?" he asks.
"I guess?" you ask. Dean looks offended and it's only mildly funny. "Look, you're the one that brought me to a motel room and kissed me when you knew I had lower inhibitions. I didn't have to have sex with you."
"Oh," he steps away from the door and stands closer to the bed where you're laying. "So you just... wanted to have sex with me?"
"Oh my god, Dean. Wow, you really just- wow. Just leave. I'm not having this conversation with you." Really? How old is he? He's practically baiting you for slut shaming.
He does look genuinely disappointed in himself for making you want to kick him out though. "Okay. Sorry." He gets off the bed and leaves, closing the door behind him.