You could still remember that day as if it was yesterday. It wasn't. It was two long years ago, but you could still see the annoying determination on Dean's face. You could still feel the heartbreak, your heart panging with it to this day.

It had been a stupid fight but weren't most of them. You had wanted more in your relationship. He had wanted it to stay exactly as it was. Instead of meeting in the middle, here you were. Miles away from Dean, away from the hunting life, completely unhappy.

You had a crappy job working nights at the gas station at the edge of town. An apartment the size of a closet with a leaky roof. A car that you weren't sure was going to last another hundred miles.

None of that mattered though. You could have been living in the finest house, with all the money you could have ever wanted and you still would have been miserable. Because you weren't with Dean. Dean made you happy, and you knew you had made a huge mistake.

Acting impulsively, you began packing all of your belongings, sparse as they were into bags, tossing them into your car. Leaving the keys on the table, you closed the door on that horrid apartment, grateful to be leaving it behind.

Your car needed gas, and you pulled into the gas station you worked at. Filling it up, you walked inside, handing over your badge. "I quit," you announced happily, the manager glaring at you, but saying nothing.

With the last part of your new life taken care of, you turned the car towards Kansas. Towards home. You weren't sure what the reception was going to be, but you had to try. You missed Dean so much, you needed to see him again. Even if he pushed you away.

The drive was only three hours, but it gave you plenty of time to think. To worry about what was going to happen when you arrived. It was Christmas Eve, and you knew he wouldn't throw you out onto the snowy streets. More than once you had pulled over, planning to turn around and head back. Back to what? A crappy life, full of pain.

Before you knew it, you were parking in front of the bunker, beside the Impala. Your heart racing, you took a moment to glance in the mirror. Brushing your hair back, checking your teeth. Delaying the moment that you were anticipating or dreading.

Snow was falling like crazy around you. It was starting to pile up on the side of the road, the road turning white. If things went with south, you were going to have quite the drive back to town.

Each step felt like lead as you took the stairs up to the front door. Your mouth dry, you knocked on the door, once, twice, and then again. And then you waited.

You could hear footsteps on the iron staircase, Dean yelling something to Sam before the door swung open and Dean was there. In front of you. Looking just as good as the day you had left.

"Y/N?" His voice was barely a whisper, his green eyes wide as he stared at you in disbelief.

"Hi, Dean. It's been a while." Your hands twisted together nervously as you waited for his next move. Was he going to shut the door in your face, or pull you inside?

In an instant, you could see the shock get wiped off his face as he carefully turned his face to stone. He was so good at it, at not portraying any emotions. It was great for hunting, but horrible when you were trying to read him. "What are you doing here?"

Gulping, you tried not to show how nervous you were. "I came home for Christmas. To...um...to apologize. And hope that maybe we can fix things."

His cheek twitched, but his face remained stoic. "Y/N, it's been two years. Two years that I haven't heard from you. Why now?"

The snow was covering your thin sweatshirt, your hair turning white. "Can I come in and we can talk? Then you can kick me out. I promise I'll go, no argument if you still want me to."

"Like you did last time," he muttered, but stepped to the side and let you enter the bunker. The bunker was just as you remembered. Except it was Christmas Eve, and there was no tree beside the war table. No Christmas decorations anywhere.

"Y/N!" Sam exclaimed, standing up from the table, actually excited to see you.

"Hi Sam," you answered softly, walking down the stairs, Dean following quietly behind.

Before you were even down the stairs, Sam was enveloping you in a hug, pulling you off the last step. "God I've missed you," he said, squeezing you so tight that you couldn't breathe. But you didn't mind.

"Sam, give Y/N and I some time," Dean ordered, his voice suspiciously calm.

Sam patted your shoulder, giving you an encouraging smile. "Dean, please don't be an Ass."

He headed towards his room, and you stood by the table, waiting and wondering.

"You want a beer?" He offered awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Whiskey?"

He nodded roughly, heading towards the counter and pouring two healthy glasses of whiskey, handing one over. "Why don't you sit down."

Perching on the edge of the chair, you took a healthy sip. "There's no Christmas decorations."

He downed his glass in one gulp. "Haven't really felt like celebrating the past couple of years. So, why don't you tell me why you're really here."

Getting right down to the point. "I made a mistake," you started. "I never should have walked out on us. I know there's probably no chance in hell we can reconcile this, but I needed to tell you that I've regretted it ever since."

"Good, you've said it. Now you can go." His mouth was a thin line, but you could see the emotions hiding behind his eyes. The hurt you had put him through was hidden deep, but you knew him well enough you could see it.

"Dean, please," you pleaded. "Let's talk this through. It's been two years. I've apologized. Please talk to me."

"An apology two years after the fight? Yeah, that's really gonna make me forgive you," he muttered. "Y/N, you asked for the moon, and instead of talking it through you left! You left me, and I had no idea where you were. If you were okay. I missed you so freaking much. And now, when I was finally getting over you, here you are. Y/N, I want to forgive you, but who's to say you're not going to leave when you don't get your way again."

A tear slipped down your cheek. "I never want to go through that again. I've learned my lesson. My life was dull without you. Pointless. You were my world, and I need you."

"You were my world too," he sighed. "And you still are. I was miserable without you. Please tell me, you're here to stay."

"I am," you assured him, relief flooding through you as his mask fell, and you could see the love for you still shining in his eyes. "Dean, I love you."

"I love you too sweetheart." Standing up, he pulled you to your feet, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tight. Cuddling into his chest, your head perfectly resting against his collar bone, you were so grateful that you had finally taken the chance to come back home. "How about we get this place decorated for Christmas? It feels right now."