"Face it Dean, you're stuck with me." You told him, watching as his face ran the gauntlet of emotions. From nervousness, to shock, to hope, everything crossed his face before he launched himself on the bed, pulling you down with him.

Giggling, you wiggled in his arms, loving this side of Dean. Once the two of you were on your sides, facing each other, you reached over, cupping Dean's cheek with your hand. "Dean, I understand why you acted the way you did. Did I like it? Hell no. But it's always been you and Sam, and I know you've never really been open to adding anyone to your posse, maybe except Cas."

"Did you say Posse?" He asked, winking at you, and you smacked his shoulder.

"Dean, I'm being serious. It was easy to see how much you fought Sam when he brought me along. I know that you don't feel comfortable having another person in your group. That it's another person to care for. Another person that might end up leaving you again, or hurting you. But I'm not going to leave you. I'm not going to give you the chance to push me away. You might try, but you're stuck with me."

"Why?" He asked seriously. "All I've done is be nothing but a jerk to you, pushing you away time and time again. I've been rude to you, and yet you come back."

"Because there's something about you, that draws me like a magnet. Not that I believe in soul mates or anything as cheesy as that, but Dean, I think we're meant to be together. You came into my life when I needed you the most, and I care for you, deeply. Hell, I even love you."

"Really?" He asked, still seeming uncertain, and you nodded. "I love you, ya big idjit."

He pulled back then, looking extremely unsettled. "What is it?" You asked, wondering what you had said wrong.

"My dad, well, he was my adopted Dad, Bobby. That's what he called everyone, and it's just not something I really want to hear in bed." He answered, and you couldn't help but chuckle.

"Fine, no idjit in bed." You agreed, moving until you were closer to him. Rolling on his back, he pulled you with him until your head was once again resting on his chest.

"Y/N, it scares me. Having another person that I care so much about. If anything happened to you, I would never forgive myself. That's why I hesitated so long. Not because I didn't care for you, but because I cared too much, and it scared me. And I don't like admitting things."

"Dean, I think we need to just start fresh. Can we do that?" You asked, as your finger ran circles on the t-shirt he was wearing. "I'm not meaning the whole cheesy my name is thing. But can we just start this relationship at the beginning, where we both aren't letting other things get to us?"

"Sounds good to me." He answered, but you could still tell he was hesitant. "I'm going to try my best. But I've had that part of my heart closed off so long, I'm going to need your help."

"Of course." You answered, just as Sam banged on your door.

'How long are you guys going to be lounging in bed?" Sam yelled through the wood. "We need to go on a supply run!"

Groaning, Dean sat up, moving to head out to his brother, but you could already see the difference. Some of the weight on his shoulders had been lifted, and he seemed happier, more carefree. And it made you happy that you knew you had some little part in that.

"Need anything from the store?" He asked you. Shaking your head, you laid back down in bed as he quickly dressed, before joining his brother in the hallway. Soon, you could hear the roar of the Impala, and you knew they would be gone at least two hours.

Deciding you were going to spend the rest of the day relaxing, you stood up, not even bothering to get dressed as you gathered items for the bathroom. You had found a room, far away from the other bathroom, that held an old-fashioned claw foot bathtub, and you had slowly been turning it into your private oasis.

Rounding the corner, your shin connected with a box at the end of Dean's bed. Cursing out loud, you dropped your clothes, wincing at the red spot on your skin. Reaching down to pick them up, you noticed the box was slightly open. Moving to close it, you saw a couple of pictures inside, and your curiosity got the better of you. Reaching in, you pulled out one of the pictures, seeing a much younger Dean standing next to his brother, and a gruff man who must be the Bobby Dean had talked about. The next picture was two kids, one just a little baby. They were being hugged by a beautiful blonde woman, who must have been their mother.

Feeling as if you were trespassing, you placed them back when you noticed something familiar laying next to the pictures. Reaching down, you picked up the strip of cloth, the shirt you had worn when he had brought you home from your time in Hell as Crowley's prisoner.

Wondering why Dean kept it, you placed it back where you had found it, stepping up and grabbing your clothes. Walking in just your long shirt, you rounded the corner, making your way to your favorite room when you heard what sounded like pounding coming from the room next to you.

Nervously nibbling on your lip, you sat your stuff down on the floor, knowing you shouldn't do anything until you went back and got some sort of weapon. As the pounding intensified, you opened the door, knowing this was the dungeon. The room was dark, and you reached beside you, turning on the light. It was empty, the shelves that separated the storage room from the dungeon, still closed tightly shut.

The pounding was coming from behind there, and it was louder than ever, a voice muffled inside as well. Reaching over, you grabbed the knife laying there, before pulling open the hidden door. Stepping to the side, you waited for whatever it was to come rushing through. As the seconds ticked by, you could still hear the pounding, but the voice was much clearer, and your heart seized as you heard it.

Without a second thought, you raced around the corner, your eyes huge as you stared at the man struggling in the middle of the devil's trap, his hands wrapped in shackles.

"Dad?" You whispered.

A