After getting off the phone with Sam, you stayed in the room, laying on the bed, not sure if you were ready to go out and confront Dean yet. You weren't really mad at him, you knew that he was being controlled by the Mark, but he had still scared the crap out of you. 

It was eerily quiet, you had figured by now that Dean would be pounding on the door, begging for forgiveness, or to at least see how you were. But time passed, you got dressed, but he never came by. Giving up, you  grabbed a small knife, tucking it into the back of your pants, before quietly opening the door. Peeking around it, you weren't surprised to see it empty.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly crept to the library, stopping dead in your tracks at the sight in front of you. Dean was sitting at the table, his ankles crossed as he propped his feet on the table, the laptop in his lap. A glass of whiskey was on the table next to him, a half empty bottle beside it. He looked calm and relaxed, as if this morning had never happened.

"Hey Y/N, there you are." He said, noticing you standing at the edge of the stairs. "I think I found us a hunt."

You could only stand there, confused. You had known that with his Mark, his moods could swing, but you hadn't expected him to act as if nothing was wrong. "Dean." You started, moving into the library, staying off to the side, still unsure around him.

"It's not too far from here actually. I think we could get it done, and be back home soon. What do you say?" He asked, his eyes never leaving the laptop.

"What's the case?" You asked, gingerly sitting down across from him, ready to spring up at a moment's notice. Before he could answer, Sam came bounding through the hallway from the garage, surprised to see the two of you sitting together at the table.

"But..what..." He stuttered, staring between the two of you.

"Dean found a case." You explained to him, deciding you would follow Dean's lead and pretend nothing had happened earlier. You weren't sure you wanted to bring it up, and have it explode on you all over again.

"Really?" Sam asked, frowning as he took in the bruises around your neck, and the small cuts on your hands.

"Yeah, it sounds interesting. Some girl had her eyes scooped out. And the room was locked, from the inside. Supposedly, the only witness saw the guy jumping out the window." Dean explained, dropping his feet off the table so he could set the laptop on it.

"So? What's the big deal of jumping out a window?" Sam asked, sitting down next to you, silently asking you if you were okay. You nodded.

"Well, when it's on the third floor, and he walked away. Think that makes it our type of deal." Dean said, standing up. "Let's go."

"I'll be right there." Sam replied, and the two of you watched Dean make his way to the garage. Once he was out of view, Sam turned his full attention on you. "Y/N, what's going on? Last I heard he was attacking you, and now we are planning on going to a hunt."

Keeping your voice low, you answered. "I have no idea. I came out of the room, and he acted as if nothing happened. Either he doesn't remember, or he doesn't want to. Truthfully, I like it better this way."

"But Y/N, look at you." Sam said, gently brushing the hair from your neck, wincing as he looked at your bruise.

"Sam, it's just a bruise. And it was because of the Mark. I don't blame him." You insisted, but you wondered how many times you could say that, before he let it go too far.

"Well, I don't want to leave you alone with him again." He told you, as the two of you made your way to the garage, where Dean was already sitting and waiting in the Impala.

________________________________________________________________________

"I can't believe this case brought us back to the Steins." You muttered, slamming the Impala door as you made your way back into the bunker. Sam and Dean followed suit, the three of you making your way into the library.

You had driven to the building, looked at the room, watched the surveillance  video. It was a hunt, but what had surprised the three of you more than anything was the fact that the man jumping from the window had a very familiar, and unique tattoo on his wrist.

"So, what do they want with other people's body parts?" You asked, as you slipped down into one of the chairs at the table.

Sam sat across from you, and Dean sat next to you, his arm casually draped over your arm rest, his fingertips brushing your jean clad thigh. He had made no attempt to apologize, or talk about what had happened earlier in the bunker, and you didn't want to bring it up either. It was the elephant in the room, all of you tiptoeing around it, none of you knowing what would happen if it was brought up.

"I have no idea. But I have no idea where to look next." Sam said, grabbing his laptop and opening it.

You were both startled when Dean suddenly stood up, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair. "I'm hungry. Pizza sound okay?"

You nodded. "Sure, pizza is fine."

"Good, I'll go get a pie, be back." He told you, before leaving the room.

You and Sam shared a look, before he turned back to his laptop, searching for more clues.

It was a good hour before Dean returned, and by then you and Sam were getting worried. You had all the files containing any information of the Steins in front of you, while Sam had his laptop open, looking for any new information that might help you out.

"Sam, he should be back by now." You said for the fifteenth time, chewing on your lip as you glanced at the screen on your cellphone. 

Sam glanced up from the glow of the screen. "You know Dean. Maybe he stopped for a drink on the way. It's too early to worry yet."

You had nodded, turning your attention back to the files, but soon you were worrying again, checking your phone again. Just as you opened your mouth to ask Sam again, you heard the roar of the Impala's engine.

"He's back!" You exclaimed, just as you heard Dean yelling down the hallway. "Little help please!"

You and Sam rushed down the hallway, expecting to see Dean with his hands full of pizza and beer, but what you saw had you tilting your head in confusion. Dean was standing there, a smug smile on his face, a cut gracing his lip. He had his hand wrapped tight in a shirt, one that was hanging on the man from the video earlier. Dean had somehow managed to go out for pizza, and return with the man you had been looking for.