xvii. | she finally blew up

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Dead's Man Blood; Part One
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"I've been in love. It's painful, pointless, and overrated." -Damon Salvatore

"DEAN," EMERY MOANED, SWATTING AT THE man's face that was obviously hovering over her's. She did not want to wake up. It was probably really early and she just couldn't deal with it right now. She had just died like two weeks or so ago, but Dean and Sam had thought she had only fallen into a minor coma. They thought that is what had happened when Max had shot her too, which was good, because Emery didn't want them thinking she was a danger to them.

Because she wasn't.

"C'mon, Em, we gotta get moving," Dean said, which made Emery sigh.

She pushed the elder Winchester out of her way before swinging her legs over the side of the bed and getting up. Fifteen minutes later, she was showered, dressed, and packed, making her way out to the Impala and shoving her bag into the backseat.

"Are we going or what?" She shouted, smiling as both Sam and Dean rolled their eyes at her, but nonetheless followed.

They pulled into a diner at the next town over, all because Emery was complaining that she was hungry. She had noticed Dean roll his eyes at her in the rearview mirror, before he pulled into the tiny, family owned diner.

They got a little table, Sam pulling up a chair since Dean and Emery had snagged the ones that were across from each other. Sam got his laptop set up, while Dean read the newspaper, Emery going to the counter and ordering a waffle.

A few minutes later, she took a seat and dug in, waiting for both men to find cases. Dean smiled smugly and opened his mouth, Emery sighing before cutting some of the waffle and feeding it to him. He had a shit-eating grin as he looked around the quaint shop.

Once finishing her waffle (Dean ate half of it, Emery feeding him messily, trying to get it everywhere), Dean folded the newspaper, putting it on the table, before linking his hands together and resting them on it.

"Alright, dude, not a descent lead in all of Nebraska, what have you got?"

"Well, I've been scanning Wyoming, Colorado, South Dakota," Sam stated. He pointed at something on his laptop screen. "Here, a woman fell ten thousand feet from an airplane and survived."

"Sounds more like 'that's incredible' instead of the twilight zone," Dean retorted, Emery giving him a toothless, tight lipped smile.

"Yeah," Emery and Sam chorused.

"You know, we could, uh, just keep heading east," Dean said. Emery noticed Dean's smirk, and caught onto what he was saying.

Sarah.

"Yeah, maybe there's a case in New York. Upstate," Emery and Dean shared a look. "I would really like to see Sarah again. I'm sure she'd like to see you."

"She's a cool chick, man. Smokin'," Dean whistled along with that statement. Emery felt a burst of jealous in her stomach, but pushed it away. "You two seemed pretty friendly. What'd you say?"

Sam let out a scoff, "Yeah, maybe, someday."

Emery almost face-palmed. Sam could be so clueless sometimes. Or he really wanted to find Yellow Eyes.

"But, in the meantime, we've got a lot of work to do, you know that."

"Yeah, you're right," Dean mumbled. "What else you got?"

"Uh, a man in Colorado, a local man named Daniel Elkins was found mauled in his home," Emery read over Sam's shoulder, before kissing his cheek. He sent her a small smile.

Tragedy ° DEAN WINCHESTERWhere stories live. Discover now