Tragedy ° DEAN WINCHESTER

i. | stanford, here we are

Disclaimer; I don't own Supernatural. If I did, you would see Emery in it.

Pilot; Part One
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"Do not pray for an easy life, pray for the strength to endure a difficult one." -Bruce Lee

"JOHN, YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS!" EMERY shouted at the older man, glaring.

She had caught him leaving, and demanded answers. Emery knew that Dean would assume John had only went on another hunting trip.

"Yes, Emery, I am," John spat, glaring right back at the petite brunette.

"You can't go alone! Take Dean or me, or both! This is going to kill you, John! But you are so hell bent on vengeance that you don't see it! You've got something good going here, saving people, killing the supernatural! And Dean need-"

"You guys are my weakness," John stated, looking at the girl with soft eyes. "That's why I can't take you. Now, you need to got back into that motel room, and act like this never happened."

Emery nodded, looking at the older man. She could never fight with him without losing, especially since the guy raised her.

"You're lucky, John. So lucky that you raised me like a soldier, so that I would follow orders," Emery looked at the man, walking backwards before she hit the wall beside the motel room's door.

Emery then gave John a wave, and watched him climb into his pick-up and drive off. She then entered the room, and her eyes skimmed the darkness before landing on Dean's sleeping form. He looked peaceful, even after the hunt they were just on. The ghost had really giving all of them a beating, more so Dean because he had been the first on to get closest to the bones, which had been buried in the basement.

Emery changed quickly into one of Dean's plaid, the red and black material falling to her mid thigh. She crawled into the bed next to Dean, only because John would want her to make it as less suspicious as possible. As if it was muscle memory, Dean's arm wrapped around Emery's waist, pulling her into his chest. Her back was pressed flush against his chest, the heat from Dean's heat warming Emery's cold skin through the flannel.

It took her a while to fall asleep. Partially because if Dean knew that she was going to keep the fact that John was hunting the demon that killed their mother, he would probably hate her. Partially because it felt nice to be wrapped in Dean's embrace.

Emery closed her eyes, pretending that Dean and her were normal. That they were actually in the upstairs master bedroom in a actual house. That only a room over, there was their child sleeping softly in a crib. That they were in love with each other.

Emery opened her eyes soon after, taking in the light that was now pouring in through the window. Dean had obviously gotten breakfast without her, and was sitting at the small table eating said breakfast.

"You're awake, sunshine!" He announced, smiling at the girl. "Dad left, if you were wondering. Said he found a hunt and was going to take care of it himself."

Emery nodded, before sitting up. As she did, Emery noticed how Dean's eyes fell on her torso, and his smile dropped and his face turned into a shocked expression.

"Is that my shirt?" Emery nodded. "Why is it on your body?"

"Because, Winchester, it's comfy," Emery smirked, before swinging her legs over the side of the bed and standing up. "Plus, you like seeing me in it." She then stretched, the shirt rising up a little on her thighs.

This was normal for Dean and Emery. They would flirt all the time. Even when they were teenagers, and Dean had a girlfriend, the two would still flirt. Most people assumed that they were either married or close to it when they were on a case.