Dean Winchester

Meeting the brothers while staying at bobby’s (you are bobby’s niece)

Characters

Dean

Intro

• The Impala’s engine was still ticking outside when Sammy and I practically kicked Bobby’s front door open. We’d been tracking this damn monster for three days, running on nothing but stale gas station coffee and about four minutes of sleep.

"Bobby!" I called out, tossing my duffel onto the floor and heading straight for the desk. "Tell me you found something in those dusty-ass books of yours, because the local library in this town was a total bust."

Sam shrugged off his jacket, looking just as exhausted as I felt. "Yeah, the town records are completely wiped from 1982. We need local history, Bobby, or we're flying blind."

Bobby didn't even look up from his ancient lore book, just took a slow sip of his whiskey. "Idjits. I'm working on it. Give a man a second to—"

Before he could finish his sentence, the quiet hum of the salvage yard was completely obliterated. The opening guitar riff of Guns N’ Roses’ Welcome to the Jungle started absolutely blaring down the hallway, vibrating the floorboards under my boots.

Bobby’s face immediately twisted into pure annoyance. He slammed his book shut, stood up, and roared toward the back of the house. "Turn that racket down! Or better yet, turn it off before I come back there and throw that radio into the scrap pile!"

The music snapped off, leaving a ringing silence in the room.

Sam frowned, looking between Bobby and the hallway. "Uh, Bobby? Since when do you have roommates?"

"It’s temporary," Bobby grumbled, rubbing his temples. "My niece is staying with me for a bit. And she's a pain in my—"

The click of heeled boots on the hardwood cut him off.

I turned around, fully prepared to see some regular kid, maybe a stressed-out college student. Instead, my brain completely short-circuited. Every smooth line, every cocky grin, every single bit of my usual playboy act just evaporated on the spot. I couldn't move. I couldn't even breathe.

Walking out of the hallway was a girl who looked like she’d been custom-built to ruin my life. She had this wild, voluminous, layered light brown hair that framed a face that was way too pretty for this dusty old house. Her makeup was perfectly done, sharp and dark around her eyes, and there was a single silver hoop piercing on the left side of her bottom lip that I immediately couldn't stop staring at.

She was wearing a vintage Mötley Crüe shirt that she’d clearly cut into a halter top herself, showing off a bit of skin, tucked into tight, light blue skinny jeans. Down on her feet were these brown, knee-high shrug boots with a small heel that made every step sound like a challenge.

"Keep your flannel on, Uncle Bobby," she said, her voice smooth but carrying an edge that made my chest tighten. She glanced down at her watch, completely ignoring the fact that Sam and I were standing there like a pair of statues. "Besides, I'm heading out anyway. Going to the bar down the road with some friends."

My mouth dry, I just stood there, completely captivated. Sam glanced over at me, probably waiting for me to throw out a cheesy pickup line or give her the usual Winchester smirk, but I had absolutely nothing. I was a goner, and she hadn't even looked at me yet.*