"I was 20, I think, when it happened….yeah…I'd just had my birthday. Anyway. I had just had a nasty fight with my mom and I was driving way too fast to my boyfriend's house. I was living with my mom; I guess I should have said that earlier." She shook her head and pushed bangs out of her face and looked down at the glass of water in front of her.

Since beginning the interviewing process, Chuck had been in more diners, coffee shops, dives and parks than he could count. And it seemed that each person starred at their drink or fiddled with their drink more than looked him in the eye, and each person seemed unsure as to whether or not they should even share their story, worried that their story was insignificant, and that it didn't matter in the grand scheme. Because "Dean Winchester saved the world" and how did their story of him saving their life compare to that?

"Go on Emily."

"Really? Is it even important? I mean, for goodness sake he saved the planet!"

"I want, no need, the world to know what he was like before he became the legend."

"But, he is the legend….People worship him now."

"And that is another part of it. People should know what they are worshiping."

She licked her lips, tucked hair behind her ears and sighed. "I was driving too fast. I went to cut hard to the left, and get out from behind a truck, and well, I wasn't exactly paying attention, and I ended up…."

***

Tires screeched and the sound of metal colliding, glass breaking, people screaming, echoed for miles and then all was silent, deadly silent. The tree, that had stood its ground for decades, perhaps centuries, was left unscathed, while the little green Pontiac, was crushed, twisted, destroyed, and its passenger left mangled, bleeding, and fighting for her life.

Dean Winchester, on his way to a job, saw a car off the side of the road, and the closer he came the more he realized that the car wasn't just pulled over, but had crashed into a giant tree. He gunned the old powerhouse and skidded to a stop, threw her into park and hurried to the car that was encasing her like a tomb.

"Miss! Miss!" He yelled when he got to the car. She moved her head a little, her eyes opened briefly and turned to his.

"Hang on!" He yelled, and with a steady hand he called 9-1-1.

***

"A lot of it is a blur from here Mr. Surly. I remember the window was broken, and I remember that he put a hand on my face, and checked to make sure I was breathing."

"Please keep going Emily."

She sighed and looked him in the eye for the first time since they had begun this conversation and she smiled slightly.

"The rest is what my mom told me after the fact."

"That's fine. Please just tell the story."

She nodded, shifted in her seat, and took a breath…

***

A young man wearing a blood stained green coat was in the waiting room when Amelia Isaacs ran into the ER waiting room, and he waited until he heard her state her name and Emily's before he stood and went to her and touched her shoulder.

"Ma'am?"

"What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy?!"

"Emily with a green Pontiac?" he asked.

She stopped and looked at the man and noted the blood on his clothes and she cringed back. "You?"

"I called 9-1-1. I just wanted to be here until you got here, in case she needed someone." His face wrinkled and an insecurity passed along his face that the mother was too distracted to read.

She swallowed. "How….bad?"

He seemed to consider what to tell her and that made he grow impatient and angry, "Just tell me! I'm a grown woman. I can take it."

He licked his lips and looked down. For the first time she noted just how young he was, and she could tell that this was hard on him. But she didn't care. She wanted to know about her daughter, wanted to know that she was okay, and this boy knew, and damnit she would beat him black and blue if that encouraged him to talk.

"She was pretty bad. I kept her talking to me while we waited for the ambulance. I busted her window in, and I held her hand to keep her grounded I guess. She told me about you, about her boyfriend, and that she was sorry about what happened." He shrugged. "I don't know what happened, she didn't tell me, but she was sorry." He shrugged and shifted is feet again. "I think they took her to surgery. They wouldn't tell me because I'm not family. But, that's what I overheard them saying."

"Did you ride with her in the ambulance?"

He shook his head. "No. They wouldn't let me. But I followed it." He dug his hands into his jeans pockets. "I just thought that there should be someone here for her, until you or her dad or boyfriend could get here. And now that you're here, I'll leave." He gave her a smile and turned away.

"Wait. Young man." He turned.

"What's your name?"

"Dean."

"Dean, will you please stay, at least for a little while, until the others get here?" He nodded.

"Yeah, I can do that."

"You don't have anywhere…."

"No. I was just passing through town. No one is expecting me." Relief was apparent on the older woman's face.

"Thank you." He shrugged it off and guided her to the chairs. Once she was sat down he told her he would be right back and returned with coffee, handed her a cup.

"I hope you take it black….I didn't see any sugar or cream over there."

"This is fine." She took a sip and starred at the cup.

"She just turned twenty." She sat back in the chair. "She was my little miracle. I didn't think I could have babies, but there she was. All ten toes and all ten fingers. Just absolutely beautiful. And when they called me, I saw all of that flash before my eyes, saw all 20 short years flash and whir by me. My little girl could die. And I wasn't very nice to her." She put her hand over her mouth and a sob escaped that could have shaken even the most harden criminal. He put his coffee down, took hers, and wrapped his arms around her and hugged her and let her cry on his shoulder."

***

"Mom said that he talked to her for over an hour, because it took longer to get a hold of my dad and Scott, my husband…he was my boyfriend then, and she said that it was like, one minute he was there and the next he was gone. She and I both never had the chance to thank him properly for saving my life. And now, it doesn't matter. I mean, he saved the world. He must be some kind of angel."

Chuck shook his head. "No. Trust me. Angels aren't as kind as Dean Winchester."

"What?" she asked brows crinkled.

"Never mind."

"I really don't know how that can help you sir."

"Oh it does. Thank you so much."

She stood, grabbed her crutch and followed Chuck to the door, limping heavily. "If you ever get to meet Dean Winchester.." she started. Chuck stopped and turned around and she gave him earnest eyes. "Tell him that Emily from Minnesota says thank you for saving her life."

"I will young lady. I most certainly will."