"Damn it, Dean," you cursed, slamming your coffee cup on the table, wincing as the scalding liquid sloshed over the Eeyore cup you cherished. But it didn't deter the frustration you were feeling.

Dean stood at the door, his arms crossed, his mouth in a tight line promising the fact that he had already made up his mind. You wanted to hurl your coffee cup at him, but you didn't want to lose your favorite coffee cup. Instead, you stood up and poured your coffee and your breakfast in the trash. You were no longer hungry. Not after the bombshell that Dean had just dropped.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to face him. "Dean, why? You knew that today was our anniversary. You promised me. No research, no hunting. Just you, and me and a trip to that nice little resort a couple of hours away."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Things happen. Jobs show up when we least expect them. What do you want me to do? Say sorry, I'm not going to come save your lives because I need to go pamper myself."

You rolled your eyes before pushing past Dean. "Once again, you're missing the point. I don't begrudge your saving lives. I just wish you weren't so married to the job. That you would remember you married me. And sometimes, you have to work on that marriage as well."

You turned down the hallway to see Sam standing there, his mouth hanging wide open. You smiled sadly as you passed him, not letting the first tear drop until you were alone. Dean's bag was already packed and on the bed. Your bag was packed, but not for a hunting trip. It had your seldom used one piece swimsuit. A simple black one that Dean always said he loved seeing you wear.

You had also planned on surprising Dean with your new set of lingerie. Lacy and red, you had been hesitant to buy it, but you wanted something special for your anniversary. But now it didn't matter.

Angrily wiping the tear away, you yanked the items out of your duffel bag, throwing them in a heap on the chair before shoving in some flannel and Jeans. An extra shirt or two along with your holy water and angel blade.

"Here, I can take that," Dean spoke up from the doorway, no sign of regret in his eyes. You wouldn't have minded the change of plans if he had pleaded with you. But he had already made up his mind, without consulting you at all.

You threw your bag at him before storming past. Sitting down in the backseat of the Impala, you slid on your headphones. You were determined to stay mad at Dean for ruining such an important weekend for the two of you.

It wasn't like you asked for much. Your wedding had been a simple affair, officiated by Cas, attended by Sam, Jody, Donna and your hunter friend Slyvia. No honeymoon, no fancy night at a hotel. Just back to work with the promise you would do something nice later.

For your Birthday Dean had taken on a hunt in South Dakota with Jody, leaving you alone in the Bunker to drink an entire bottle of wine on your own.

It wasn't that you expected him to give up hunting. You had just hoped that he could pull away just a little bit to give your marriage the support you so desperately needed.

You stayed silent the entire trip, falling asleep somewhere in Colorado. Sam had kept glancing back at you while Dean had acted as if nothing was wrong. As if you weren't spending your anniversary on the road once again.

Instead of a night spent in a cozy little cabin, you were currently laying on a lumpy old mattress, the broken TV taunting you in the corner. Both Sam and Dean had gone to talk to the witnesses, while you had opted to stay behind, lounging in bed, wearing one of Dean's old flannels.

"Broken heart?" a man's voice spoke from the bathroom. This tall man ducked as he stepped through the doorframe, his shoulders brushing the trim. He had sandy blonde hair, a strong jaw and long legs that rivaled Sam's. But it was the black eyes that had you reaching under your pillow for the blade you always kept there. "Oh, I don't think so sweetheart."

With a snap of his fingers, your blade flew away, landing in his hand. "Who the hell are you?"

He sighed, placing the blade in his pocket. "I do suppose you don't recognize me. Not in this sweet little get-up. Isn't this meat suit handsome? I'm going to try to hold onto this one. But the name's Agarus. Ring any bells?"

Of course, it rang bells. He had been one of the Demons going through a small town a couple of years ago, killing anyone they could get their hands on. It had been one of the more horrifying hunts you had ever been on. You had been able to trap and kill one Demon, but he had vanished.

"I can see it has," he answered gleefully. "I've been waiting for this moment for so long. To finally get revenge for the death of my dear friend. I set this trap, hoping that it would bring the Winchesters and Dean's girl here, and it worked exactly as I had hoped."

"So what? Now you're going to kill me? All that's going to do is set Dean Winchester on your tail until you die a slow, painful death."

"I would like to think I'm smarter than that," he seemed offended. With another snap of his fingers, he had you transported across the room and slammed into the wall so hard your teeth knocked together.

"How original," You taunted. "Yet another power happy male Demon slamming people into the wall. Do you guys have any imagination at all?"

Your words dug deep, his smile turning into a snarl as he squeezed his hand into a fist. Immediately your insides turned to fire, trying to burn you from the inside out. Clenching your teeth together, you fought hard not to scream, a moan the only satisfaction he would receive.

"I should have realized that anyone who would marry Dean Winchester would have to be tough skinned," he growled, watching with glee as you squirmed under his torture. "It will be my pleasure to make you scream."

"If anyone makes Y/N scream, it will be me," Dean's voice was low as he stepped into the room. "And it won't be from torture."

"Kinky," the Demon chuckled. "But I think I have the upper hand."

You could see that Dean was by himself. But it was hard concentrating on anything else when it felt like lava was flowing through your veins. "Let her go now," Dean insisted, pulling out the Angel blade he always carried. The Demon just shrugged at the threat, tightening his hand until blood slipped from your lips and you cried out. "Damn it, leave her alone!"

The Demon, you couldn't remember his name, shook his head. "You took everything from me. I had a great life. I was topside with my best friend. We could kill whatever we wanted. We took whatever meat suit looked good. It was perfect and then you had to come along and take her away."

You could Dean was as confused as you were. You had taken out so many Demons that it was hard to remember a specific one. "See? You don't even remember her! She was the one wearing the gym teacher's outfit. Who had a habit of taking out annoying students."

"Oh," Dean finally remembered. "And you were the sheriff, covering it all up, weren't you? But you got away before we could kill you."

"Exactly. So I could wait and plan my revenge. Let you find out what it's like to live without the one that matters to you most. And do you know what I find hilarious?"

"What?" Dean's jaw was clenched tight, his knuckles white as he squeezed the angel blade.

"This is so fitting! Because I know today is your anniversary. And you were stupid enough to come on this hunt instead of lavishing attention on the one you love. If I had known my time was limited with Crocell, I would have spent every minute of it with her."

"How did you know it was our anniversary?" Dean asked, his eyes glancing over at you, concern and guilt filling the green pools.

Agarus rolled his eyes. "It was an easy knucklehead. Even Demons can use the internet, and I do have my sources. So instead of spending the day showing Y/N how much you love her, now you get to say goodbye."

Dean's eyes widened, and he charged, raising the Angel blade high and slashing it down. But Agarus was too speedy and he slammed Dean into the wall, the blade slipping from his hand. Tears rolled down your cheek, your entire body in agony. "Y/N, I'm so sorry," Dean whispered. "I should have listened to you."

It took a moment for you to realize the pain was gone. The Demon's hold on you had vanished as well, and you took a step forward when Argus grabbed your arm. He had Dean's blade in his hand and with a gleeful chuckle, he slid it home between your ribs.

"No!" Dean screamed, struggling against the Demon's hold, watching as blood blossomed on your borrowed flannel. The once gray and black flannel now had a deep red spot as you slid down to the ground.

"Let's see how you handle this one," Agarus laughed before his eyes went wide. Sam was standing behind him, his Demon blade buried deep in his side. His eyes flashed orange before Sam threw him off to the side.

"Y/N!" Dean exclaimed, falling to his knees beside you, his hand hovering over the gaping wound in your chest. Blood was quickly pooling around you, taking all of your strength with it. "Damn it, I should have listened to you."

You tried reaching up for him, tried speaking to tell him that it was alright, you forgave him. The words refused to leave your lips as blood trickled down your chin before your head tilted to the side, leaving Dean in a tidal wave of agony and regret.