Relationship: Dean/Reader
Word Count: 1,030
Summary: After the incident with Bloody Mary, Dean decides it's time to tell Sam. Time to tell Sam about what he did during the two and a half years Sam was away at Stanford and Dean wasn't hunting with John. Time to tell Sam about what they both had in common with their father.
Warnings: none for now
A/N: This is the first of 5 parts that I have written so far, but I'm not sure how many parts it is going to be once it is finished. I need you guys to comment on this fic and send asks about it so that it can get written!!!
~Jordan
October 20th, 2005
Dean pulled the impala over to the side of the deserted highway. Sam turned his head and looked at his older brother with a confused expression. "What?" Sam asked. Dean sighed, dragged his hand over his face, and closed his eyes. Sam could sense Dean reliving a painful memory. "What's wrong?" Sam prodded.
"Sammy, there's something I gotta tell you," Dean admitted. "Back there, with Mary... your secret was that you dreamt about Jess' death before it happened..." Dean trailed off. Sam thought he was about to finish his thought, but he didn't.
"Yeah," Sam said painfully, holding his breath.
"It wasn't your fault, Sam. You couldn't have stopped it, even if you tried," Dean told him.
Sam shook his head. "I shouldn't have ignored it. I should've warned her, I should've protected her," he argued.
It was Dean's turn to shake his head. "You couldn't have protected her, Sam." Dean looked at his little brother. "It was always going to happen. The same way it happened to mom, the same way dad couldn't save her."
"That was my fault, too," Sam muttered.
Dean scoffed and looked ahead. "It wasn't your fault. You were six months old, you didn't do anything."
"That's exactly why it's my fault Jess died! I didn't do anything! I didn't warn her!" Sam yelled. "First our mom, now Jess! Consider yourself lucky, Dean, that you didn't have to go through losing the love of your life like that," Sam said coldly.
Dean shook his head. "Man, for a Stanford boy I would've thought you could do better math," Dean mumbled.
"What are you talking about?" Sam asked.
"You were gone for four years." Sam just wore a confused expression. "I told you I'd been hunting with dad for the last year and a half."
"Yeah, I just thought you were hunting on your own for the other two and a half years," Sam said.
"Not all two and a half."
August 15th, 2001
You were packing your hunting equipment back into the trunk of your car, having just taken down a nest of vamps. The sun had just set when you heard the rumbling engine of another car in the distance. Moments later, a black '67 Impala rolled over to you and came to a gradual stop, headlights beaming directly at you. You held your hand over the lights to shield your eyes until the driver turned the engine off and got out of the car. A tall man with short, spiked, dirty blonde hair and bowlegs approached you. He flashed a fake police badge before saying, "Miss, I'm gonna have to ask you to..." The man trailed off when he looked in your trunk and saw your bloody machete.
"Here's a tip, rookie. Don't go after a vamp nest at night. That's when they've got the real advantage over you," you said.
The man smirked. "You took down half a dozen vampires on your own?" he asked incredulously.
You chuckled. "One of my easier hunts," you replied. "I didn't waste time questioning 'witnesses' before I got the drop on 'em."
Dean snickered, glancing in the other direction. "You're good. What's your name?"
"[Y/N]," you told him without missing a beat. "Yours?"
"Dean. Dean Winchester."
"Well, Deano, since I took your hunt, what do you say I help you find a new one?" you offered. Dean looked hesitant. "Come on, I don't bite," you joked. "Not on the first date, at least," you added. That got a laugh out of the Winchester. "Come on. What motel are you staying at?" you asked.
"The Giles Motel about fifteen miles down the highway," he told you. "You?"
"I usually don't spend more than a couple of days on a hunt," you replied.
"Okay, so?" Dean questioned.
"I don't stay in hotels. I just sleep in my car."
"In that thing? That's a sad little Herbie you got there." Dean pointed to your '63 Bug.
You shrugged. "Say what you want about it, it gets the job done. Plus it's not mine. I'm just borrowing it while my real ride is getting fixed up," you told him.
"Who's fixin' up your real ride?" Dean prodded.
"Why's it matter to you?" you retorted.
"I'm just tryna make sure you're not getting ripped off," Dean claimed, putting his hands up.
"Yeah, well, I could've done it myself, but I didn't have enough time, you know, what with all the ass-kicking and name-taking that I got going on," you told him.
Dean chuckled and put his hands in his pockets. "Well, how about you come back to the motel with me, maybe sleep in an actual bed?"
You pretended to be offended. "Dean, I'm not that kind of girl!"
"It's a room with two fulls. Call it reparations for you taking my hunt from me," Dean said coolly.
"Well, I mean, if that's the only way to repay you..." you joked.
"Come on. Dinner's on me," Dean said, ushering you to his car. You walked around it and climbed into the passenger seat, leaving the bug behind as Dean sped down the highway. "So what's your story?" Dean asked after a few minutes of silence.
"What story?"
"Come on, everyone's got a story. About how they started hunting. What's yours?"
"Dean, you're gonna have to earn my trust before I just go and spill all my secrets for you." You had been looking out the window, but as you spoke, you turned your head to face him. You tried to avoid thinking about the answer to his question.
Dean glanced over at you before looking back at the road. "Is it bad? Sorry, stupid question, sorry I asked."
"Wow, you're smooth, aren't you?" you replied, snickering.
"Oh, shut up," Dean muttered.
"So what's for dinner?" you asked, changing the subject.
"What?"
"You said dinner's on you. So what's for dinner?"
"Well, sweetheart, what do you like?" Dean asked.
You smiled to yourself. "After a vamp nest? Mexican food," you told him proudly.
Dean looked at you momentarily, squinting his eyes. "Are you mocking me?"
"Maybe," you said playfully, shrugging a shoulder, your lip curling into a smile.
