After Sam left, you changed into your sleep clothes, a pair of shorts that had seen better days, and a shirt, two sizes too big for you. At one time this shirt had belonged to Dean, but during a hunt he had offered it to you when yours had become unrecognizable due to blood, dirt and rips, and you had kept it ever since.

Crawling into bed, you wrapped yourself as deep as you could into the shirt, the subtle aroma of Dean still evident in the faded cotton. Your headache started to fade away, and soon you felt your eyes drift closed. As you slowly shifted into unconsciousness, you missed the gentle opening of the door, and the shadow of a figure standing near your bed, a look of utter remorse crossing his face.

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Shivering, you tried to pull the blanket up farther, but all you ended up doing was punching yourself in the face. Grumbling at the rude wake up call, you sat up, rubbing at the sleep clogging your eyes.

It took you a minute before you were thinking clearly enough to even attempt moving out of bed. As your legs slid out of the warm cocoon of blankets and hit the frosty air, you noticed a figure slumped forward in the chair you had pushed in the corner of your room.

Dean was sound asleep, his neck at an awkward angle as he rested his chin on his forearm, and you knew he would wake up with a horrible pain in his neck. He was still dressed in his clothing from yesterday, and you wondered how long he had been sleeping in that chair.

Feeling sorry for the knucklehead, you slip out the door, planning on bringing him a cup of coffee and some aspirin before he woke up.

Entering the kitchen, you noticed you weren't the only one up early. Sam was already sitting at the table munching on cereal and reading the local newspaper. Upon noticing you, he placed the paper down and winced in your direction.

Raising you hand up to your forehead, you felt the tell tale signs of the unfortunate accident that had happened last night. You still had quite a goose egg on your forehead, a colorful one at that, but at least it no longer hurt.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, watching as you pulled down two mugs and began filling them with coffee.

"Fine." You replied, stirring some sugar into yours before turning to leave the room.

"Have you talked to Dean yet?" Sam asked, getting up to rinse his bowl.

Shaking your head no, you returned back to your room, relieved to see that Dean hadn't woken up while you were gone. Setting the coffee cups down on the dresser next to Dean, you gently shook his shoulder, quietly saying his name.

As you expected, Dean woke with a start, his arms flailing everywhere as he tried to wake up and regain his balance. Stepping out of the way, you waited until he was looking up at you, one hand rubbing his neck, dark circles already forming under his eyes from lack of a good night's sleep.

"Here." You tell him, handing over the coffee and the pills. Gulping the pills down, he followed them with a sip of coffee, not blinking an eye as the burning liquid made its way down his throat.

Taking his hand, you pulled him out of the chair and forced him to sit on the edge of the bed, before climbing behind him, kneeling on your knees.

"Y/N, I..." He started to say but you quickly hushed him, so instead he took another sip of coffee. Placing a hand on either side of his neck, you started rubbing, putting gentle pressure on the kinks you felt laying underneath the skin. Finding a particularly tight spot, you pressed harder, earning a groan from Dean.

The two of you stayed that way for a while, you working on Dean's broad shoulders while he sat there, groaning and drinking his coffee.

Feeling that most of his knots had disappeared, you stopped and sat down next to him, and he leaned over handing you your cup of coffee. It had already gone lukewarm, but you still drank it, needing a jolt of caffeine in your system.

Dean tried once again to talk, his eyes focused on the bruise he had inadvertently caused, and this time you let him, knowing he wouldn't leave it alone until he got it off his system. "Y/N, I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me. I just had this sudden rage overtake me, and I couldn't seem to control my emotions or feelings. I know it's not an excuse, and I don't blame you if you want to beat my ass."

Once he finished talking, you sat there knowing your next move was very important to your relationship. You had already forgiven Dean, but he didn't seem to realize that, even though the neck rub was a good pointer. Knowing you weren't good at words, you did the only thing that came to mind, you leaned over and pressed your lips to his.

At first, his lips stayed frozen shut, probably from shock, but then they started to move against yours, before finally opening, and you could feel his tongue start to slide between your lips and you welcomed it, opening your mouth on a moan.

Dean took that as an invitation, and he gently pressed your shoulders down, until you were lying down on the bed, your coffee forgotten on the floor.

Laying next to you, he changed his angle, deepening the kiss while one hand wrapped itself in your hair. Your hands moved, traveling down the broad expanse of his back, getting lost in the muscles bunching underneath his shirt. As your hands urgently moves under his shirt to feel the warm skin, a cough interrupted your heated make out session.

"Oh shit, sorry!" Sam said, standing at the door, his eyes looking anywhere but at you and Dean. Growling, Dean pulled his lips away from yours, and looked at Sam.

"What?" He asked angrily, and you could see Sam gulp nervously. Sam was a fearless hunter, unless it came to clowns, or his brother's wrath.

"Cas just came by, said he found some clues about Abaddon's location, and I thought it was too important to wait." Sam explained, inching towards the door.

Running his fingers through his hair, Dean gave you an apologetic look, before standing up. "Give us time to clean up, then we will be there."

Sam nodded, and left the room. Dean quick started pulling his shirt off, and even though the sight made you drool, you tried to reason with him. "Dean, I know we were in the middle of something but don't you think we should hurry up and go out into the main room?"

Dean turned and looked at you, and that's when you noticed he had a different shirt in his hands. Understanding dawned on his face, and he chuckled before pulling the shirt over his head. "Don't worry sweetheart, we will finish what we started." With that promise he left you alone in the room.

Blushing, you grabbed some clothes and hurriedly put them on, not wanting to miss any of the information.