Sam took you to a separate room, one that hadn't seen use for quite some time. The furniture were still covered with sheets, a couple of cardboard boxes placed on the full size bed. There was a closet, and a small connecting bathroom, almost an exact copy of the room you had shared with Dean. Just the thought of his name was enough to send shivers down your body, and you were glad when Sam spoke, taking your attention away from your deep, dark thoughts.

"I took the liberty of placing your items in this room. I know it doesn't look like much, but we can slowly fix it up." He explained, pulling the sheet off of the dresser and chair across from the bed.

"Sam, I don't know how long I can stay." You told him truthfully.

He stopped what he was doing, his eyes sad as he faced you.

"Don't you dare!" You told him. "Don't you dare pull the puppy dog eyes trick on me."

"Why? I know it will be tough at first, but we're like family. And family sticks together." He explained.

Sighing, you began pulling the boxes off the bed, setting them on the dresser before pulling the protective sheet off the blanket. "I know, but after everything I've gone through, everything Dean did, I'm not sure I will ever be able to face him again." You said quietly, tears pouring down your face.

You wanted to stay, you really did. The bunker was your home, and Sam was your family. You had nowhere else to go, but knowing Dean was under the same roof as you, had you ready to pack and run. It wasn't fair to you, or Sam and Dean either, but after everything you had been through, it was the only thing that felt right.

Sam sat down on the bed next to you, his shoulders slumped, showing how hard this had all been on him also. "I understand you went through a lot, I really do. And maybe someday you will talk to me about what happened. But we both know that wasn't Dean back there, it was the Demon version of him. Once we save him..." Sam started saying, but you interrupted him.

"How do we even know the cure will work? He's not just a Demon, he's a special case." You argued.

Sam stood up, brushing back his long hair from his face. "It's the only thing we've got. I would rather kill my brother by trying, then leave him as a Demon. But for now, clean up, get some rest. Everything will look different in the morning."

You hoped Sam was right, that once you had a good night's sleep under your belt you would feel better, and things would look more positive. Nodding, you watched him walk out the door, turning to glance at you one more time, before slowly shutting it.

"Sam, wait!" You yelled just before the door clicked shut. He opened it a little, so you could just see his face. "You aren't going to try the cure tonight are you? It's so late, why not get some sleep tomorrow, then maybe I could help you." You told him, the last part coming out a little strangled and unsure, but you meant it. Maybe facing your fears would help push them away. You knew your relationship with Dean would never be the same, but you still had to help the man who had a hold of your heart.

"Are you sure Y/N? It won't be pretty, and Dean won't be cooperative. I think you've been through enough." Sam told you, trying to shelter you from as much bad stuff as possible. But after what you had seen, and gone through in the last 6 months, you were sure curing Dean wouldn't be the worst thing.

Nodding your head, you assured Sam. "I'm sure. No matter what he did to me as a Demon, my Dean is still hiding in there, and I want to help bring him out."

"Then there is hope for you two yet." Sam said softly before the door clicked behind him.

Walking over to the boxes, you opened the first one, grateful when it was full of clothes, the second containing your bathroom essentials. The bathroom was dusty, but you didn't let that bother you, promising yourself that tomorrow you would clean it, make it more usable. Tonight, or almost this morning since it was so late, all you were worried about was getting some of the grime off of you.

The shower worked just fine, and soon you were standing under a steady stream of hot water, hissing as your cuts and bruises burned as they were cleansed. It felt amazing to be able to stand in the shower, knowing you were safe, that you could take your time and no one would be pounding on that door yelling at you.

Finally you drug yourself out of the shower, feeling much more better and almost normal again. Pulling on a pair of sweatpants and an old faded tshirt, you almost felt like yourself again, except for the fact that you were starving.

Opening your door, you glanced down the darkened hallway, hoping to see Sam. When no sounds reached your ears, and nothing moved, you realized you would have to make the long trek to the kitchen by yourself. Shivering, you grabbed a flannel shirt that had probably belonged to Dean at one point, shrugging it on before slipping down the hallway.

As you walked closer to the kitchen, you were curious as to why Sam had put your stuff so far away from the rest of the bunker. Your new room was one of the last ones, and you had to pass a multitude of other rooms, including the storage room to reach the rest of the bunker.

Your bare feet were quiet on the tile floor, and you could hear the betting of your heart, picking up as you came closer to the storage door. It might look like storage from the outside, but behind those bookcase was the bunkers personal dungeon, and you knew that's where Sam had placed Dean.

Planning on walking right past it without stopping, you were shocked when your feet froze in front of the door, and no matter what you couldn't get moving again. It was then you heard the laughing, an evil, deep chuckle that you knew had to be Dean's.

"Come on Y/N. I know you're standing outside my door. Why don't you come on in, we can have a nice little chat." His voice sounded from the other side of the door.