Chapter One

Five years ago:

She was curled up on his bed waiting for him when he stumbled drunkenly into his bedroom. Annie Winchester...no, not Winchester after all, she thought bitterly. Annie No-Name opened her eyes and watched her not-brother-anymore, Dean stare down at her in confusion. He blinked and scanned the room quickly, surely thinking he'd entered her bedroom by mistake.

"Annie?" His voice was smooth and he stumbled over the two syllables slightly in his inebriated state.

"Yeah." She whispered pushing herself upright on his mattress and leaning against the simple but elegant dark wood headboard. Annie pulled tear dampened strands of red hair off her cheeks and neck and took a deep shaky breath, her heart racing dangerously in her chest. This feeling burning through her body was all she had left that was truly honest and real in the life she recently learned had been a lie. It had shamed her when the thoughts began invading her dreams. Hot wet dreams about this man who was her brother in memory if no longer in fact. Thoughts that were so wrong yet too potent to dismiss. How did it all change in the space of a few weeks? Last month, he was Dean, the annoying, chauvinistic, obnoxiously over-protective older brother who she adored with reluctant sisterly devotion. Tonight he was Dean, the man who now held center stage in some warped erotic burst of want that began to thrum through her veins.

"What are you...? What?...Where the fuck have you been?" Irritation, mixed with frantic, drunk worry filled his voice as he stepped towards his bed and for a fascinated second Annie wondered if he was gonna grab her arms.

"At a motel outside of town. I needed to think, to get away." She admitted closing her eyes as a fresh burst of pain washed through her.

"A motel? A motel? And you couldn't be bothered to call and let us know you were okay? Fuck, Annie! Dad thought you were lying in a ditch somewhere. Or something got you!" His fists at his sides were shaking.

"Your dad, not mine, remember? Yours and Sam's."

"He's still your father in the way that counts. Sam and I are still your family. Blood be damned." He spat.

"Just because you wanna believe something, Dean, doesn't make it true. You and I, we're nothing." Annie reminded him, the words feeling foreign and cold in her mouth.

This time he did grab her. Dug his fingers painfully into her upper arms and pulled her up onto her knees on the bed, bringing her face up to his.

"Don't say that. That's bullshit and you know it. You're pissed, I get that, but that doesn't change that we're your family in the ways that count. Dad raised you, cared about you. Mom loved you too."

"Oh right, the woman I mourned all these years turns out not to be the one who have birth to me after all. So I lose her not just once, but twice." Annie sniffled lowering her face so she was pressed against Dean's black t-shirt collar. He smelled of beer and some cheap perfume. Her stomach tightened with a shiver of furious...jealousy? What the hell else would she call it when her breath hitched at the mere idea of some random woman pawing Dean?

He sighed and she felt his hand cup the back of her head.

"So what made you come back?" He asked softly, his breath caressing the curve of her ear.

"You." She whispered burrowing closer to him.

The hand at stroking her hair stopped. His body went very still and Annie knew that on some instinctual level, he knew exactly what she meant.

"Annie, what are you--?"

"You know what I mean. Don't make me say it." She wasn't feeling particularly that brave.

"You're just upset. You're not thinking clearly." Annie could feel him trembling against her and felt her own body begin to shake as well at the change in the air around them.

"You're the one who's drunk, Dean. Not me. It's all different now. Don't say you don't feel it. I can feel your heart racing." To prove her point, she pressed the palm of her hand to his chest feeling the strong quick beat beneath her fingers.

"This is--"

"Wrong? I know. I don't care." She pulled back and glared up at him defiantly with dark green eyes that echoed the intoxication he could definitely smell on her breath. "Neither do you." She pressed a hand to his chest. "You're burning, Dean. I can feel it. Tell me I'm wrong." Annie was drawn to his mouth, waiting.

"You're not...I don't..." Dean stammered, his breath warm on her face. The fingers on her upper arms tightened and he began to push her back, away from him.

"Why not, Dean? Huh? Why the fuck not? There's nothing to stop us. We're just two random people here. Not connected in anyway." The words were meant to convince him but they hurt her to say, Annie blinked away fresh tears. She shot the words out, wanting to hurt him somehow because he had known. Known all this time, for years that they weren't family and because daddy told him too, he'd kept silent. That was Dean through and through. Daddy's boy. Daddy's good little soldier. Annie wanted to smack him.

"You're drunker than I am, kid-" He shook his blond head and stepped away from the bed.

"You gave it to me." Annie crossed her arms, petulantly.

"I did not." He rubbed his eyes, losing patience quickly.

"Well, I found it under your bed, same difference." She snapped, then threw her arms around him and Dean either had to step closer or watch her land on her face on the carpet.

Annie sobbed into his collar. "Whoever my real family was, they didn't want me. Now you don't want me either."

"Annie, come on. We can't do this."

"Sure we can. Watch." Annie stubbornly pressed her mouth to his, feeling a sharp burst of adrenaline and some strange pulsing begin low in her body at the feel of his soft full lips.

For such a wise-ass, smart mouth, Dean's mouth was surprisingly supple, Annie marveled as he let out a groan and pulled his mouth away.

"Whoa...whoa. Time out, Annie. Don't." He insisted holding her wrists when she tried to reach for him again.

"You're such a fucking hypocrite, Dean Winchester!" She punched his chest. "You've practically screwed your way through the entire senior class and all of a sudden you've developed scruples? Or is it just me, huh? Red-heads turn you off?"

"You know that's not- God, I'm too drunk to--" Dean ran his hand over his face. "We're both not thinking clearly here."

"To hell with thinking. I'm so sick of thinking, Dean. That's all I've done for the past two weeks." She grabbed the waistband of his jeans and pulled him back towards her.

"Jesus Christ. We have to stop this, Annie. Now, before--"

"No. I don't want to stop. I don't want you to stop." Annie sighed, running a nervous finger along his cheek, feeling the slight stubble there. She followed her finger's path with her lips and heard Dean's breath hitch. Yes, give in. Give in and love me, she pleaded silently moving closer to his mouth. Love me and stop this noise in my brain, stop this shredding of what used to be my life.

"It's okay." She whispered, teasing his mouth open with her own, a steady hum beginning under her skin. "It's okay,"

"No, it's not." He protested weakly pushing her away. He stopped taking deep gulping breaths to try and calm every surging hormone in his body down. Then looked at her again. Big mistake. "Fuck it," he groaned and then closed his mouth over hers.