"Y/N, we're here." Dean's voice sounded from somewhere up above you, and squinting your eyes open, you saw him start to wrap his arms around you.

"The bunker?" You mumbled, letting him slide his arms around you, effortlessly picking you up.

"Yep. Gonna clean you up and get you into bed." He promised as you felt yourself away with his body movement.

"Thanks Sammy." Deanls voice rumbled through his chest as he walked through the opened door to your shared room. Dean carefully placed you down on the bed, before grabbing your T-shirt and sliding it over your head. He winced at the dark line of bruises covering your neck, along with the ones shaped like a hand on your arm. "From Cas?" He asked, his fingers ghostly tracing the bruises on your neck.

You nodded, your throat still sore from the torment.

Frowning, Dean unbuttoned your jeans, moving to slide them down and you gasped in pain. The blood from the gash had dried your jeans to your skin, and it was pulling the sensitive skin.

"I'm sorry." He muttered, and with one yank freed your jeans from your skin, and you hissed.

The blood started flowing again, and Dean pressed your ruin shirt to it, before grabbing the first aide kit that was laying on the nightstand.

Taking deep breaths, you held onto the pillow, your knuckles white as he cleaned and stitched up the wound. Soon it was over, and he pulled a long, clean shirt over your head.

Your eyes were closed, but you heard rustling. Before you knew it, Dean had slipped in behind you, pulling you tight to him.

With the light still on, he could see the bruises around your neck, and you felt his body stiffen as he brushed your hair back from them. "I know he was under the spell. But every inch of me wants to find him, and beat him senseless."

"It's over, and we are all alright. That's all that matters." You assured him, as you felt yourself falling to sleep once again.

--------------------------

The next morning you woke up, stretching, feeling only a slight discomfort in your hip and your neck.

Rolling onto your back, you were a little disappointed to not find Dean in the bed with you. A frown on your face, you slipped on his gray robe, making your way into the kitchen, needing coffee more than usual.

You heard voices, loud voices coming from the kitchen, showing both Winchester brothers were awake. Standing in the door frame, you watched with a slight smile on your face as Dean ironed both of their white shirts. It was a mundane task, a glimpse of normal in an other wise crazy life.

"Dean, stop ironing my shirts with beer!" He yelled as he pushed past you. "Y/N, you need to go back to ironing our shirts."

"Okay Sam." You answered, before moving in to grab a cup of coffee. "Really Dean, beer?"

He just shrugged, unplugging the iron. "It's straight, that's all that matters."

Sitting down at the table, you munched on an apple as he sat down next to you.

"So how's Cas?" You asked him, surprised to not see the Angel joining you in the kitchen. He always seemed to enjoy the room, especially when it was occupied.

"He's exhausted. That spell took a lot out of him. He's gonna stay behind, relax in the bunker while we go on this hunt." Dean explained. "He also feels bad about what happened to you." He said, his gaze dark as he looked at the bruises on your neck.

"A hunt? Since when was there a hunt?"

The look he gave you was one you hadn't seen for a while, his eyes lighting up with excitement, his mouth curved in a smile. It reminded you of the Dean you had first fallen in love with, and you lost yourself in it. "Since early this morning. Now if you want to go with us, you have five minutes."

You jumped up so fast, you almost knocked over your coffee cup. It seemed like forever since you had had a regular, monster of the week type hunt and you were excited. Kissing Dean on the cheek, you raced out of the room, already mentally planning everything you needed to do to get ready.

Within a half an hour you had showered, packed clothes, along with some books, just in case they decided to leave you behind at the motel. You walked past Cas' room, torn between wanting to see him, but also needing to stay away. You knew he felt guilty, and you didn't want him to, so you knocked on the door.

"Come in." Came his gravelly voice, and you opened the door to see him laying on a bed in only his suit pants and white shirt. He looked exhausted and ragged, a shell of the former strong Angel.

"How are you?" You asked quietly, fidgeting at the door.

"I should be the one asking you." He said, getting off the bed and coming your way. He reached his hand up, towards your neck, and you flinched, you couldn't help it. He dropped his hand, a look of pain crossing his face. "I'm weak, but I can heal that. I need to heal that."

You shook your head, not wanting him to weaken himself on you. "Cas, it's okay. Truly it is. Just worry about getting better. That's all that matters." You gave him a reassuring smile before leaving his room, hoping your resolution would help him. He had to forgive himself before he realized you had already forgiven him yourself.

 Dean had already grabbed his bag and was in the garage, double checking his Baby before she made another long road trip. She gleamed in the low hanging lights, the thorough cleaning Dean had given her early this morning showing.

Sam arrived seconds after you, lugging his laptop bag along with his backpack. Tossing it into the trunk, he gave the Impala a once over. "Car looks nice Dean. But maybe next time you can wash it in regular clothes. Those shorts were the stuff of nightmares."

"You're just jealous you don't have legs like mine." Dean teased, causing you to laugh.

"Dean does have great legs." You agreed, causing Sam to groan as he slid in.

You had a huge smile on your face,  the bickering reminding you of when you had first started traveling with the brothers.

"Let's get going!" You exclaimed impatiently, slapping the top of the front seat.

"Hey careful!" Dean admonished but he was already pulling onto the road. Stretching out in the backseat,  you pulled out one of your books, planning on spending the next couple of hours doing something you hadn't had a chance to for a long time, relax.

As the road past by in a blur, you were more than content to get lost in your book, occasionally adding to the conversation Sam and Dean were currently having. After the third hour, you finished the book. Dropping it on the floor, you sat up so you could lean on the front seat, your head close to Dean's shoulder.

"How much longer?" You asked as he switched cassette tapes, playing a Led Zepplin one this time.

"Not until tomorrow." He told you, making you realize how little you actually knew about this hunt you were going on. "It's probably not even our type of thing, so I'm in no big hurry."

As he said that, he pulled into the gravel parking lot of a run down bar. A diner was across the street, but that was it, nothing else around for a couple of miles. "Dean, what are we doing here? There's not even a motel."

He shut the Impala off before giving you an exasperated look. "Seriously Y/N, you don't remember this place?"

You looked again at the place, with the wagon wheel fence, the neon sign with some of the letters darkened, the diner with its Formica counters and sparkly blue vinyl booths. "Should I?"

He sighed. "Y/N, this is where you and I finally decided to stop fighting our attraction for each other. Don't you remember? We were hustling pool, you were wearing this blue shirt unbuttoned lower than anything I had ever seen on you before. I actually lost that round I was so focused on you. Then we went out behind the bar where there's this old picnic table hidden by trees and..."

"Okay, that's enough for me. You two have fun with your memories, I'm gonna head to the diner." Sam grumbled, hopping out of the car. Deans loud laughter followed his brother as you sat there, the memories returning. You knew this place now. You had been thirsting after Dean for quite some time, figuring he never saw you quite the way you wanted him too. But then that night, you purposefully wore a tight fitting tank top, one that buttoned part way in the front. Leaving enough buttons undone to show quite an amount of cleavage, you paired it with your favorite pair of jeans, leaving your hair down.

"I remember." You admitted, feeling a blush creep up on your as your remembered exactly what happened behind that bar.

Dean slid out of the drivers seat, opening your door and pulling you out. "Want to go relive some memories?" He asked and you nodded, letting yourself be pulled into the dingy and dark bar.

---------------------------

Your shirt stained, the buttons missing or in the wrong place, your hair going all different directions, you stumbled as Dean pulled you out of the bar and into the early morning sunlight. "I can't believe I let you talk me into that." You muttered, blushing at the thought of everything Dean had talked you into.

"Hey, I couldn't believe they still had that table out there! And you were the one who wanted to hustle those bikers. You won 500 dollars off of them!"

"I still have it." You said, giving him a high five and almost tripping over your own feet.

"Wonder if Sammy spent the night in the diner." Dean asked, wincing as the bright sun enhanced the hangover he was no doubt carrying. 

"Probably knowing him." You said, opening the back door without looking, tossing your coat inside. Your back stiffened when you heard a grunt, and your gaze shot down, then immediately back up. "Or maybe not." You muttered, keeping your gaze up, never wanting to see that much of Sam again.

A blonde sat up, finishing the buttons on her uniform as both you and Dean just stood there. Dean had a huge smile on his face, before you smacked him on the shoulder and he turned around. You heard Sam muttering something, and the blonde replying before she sauntered past you, making her way back to the diner. You waited another moment, until Dean cleared his throat, letting you know it was okay to look. Sam sat there, looking completely happy and disheveled, a goofy grin on his face. 

He moved to get out of the backseat and back into the passenger, but you shook your head. "No way. There is no way I'm going to sit back there, not with what I know just happened. You can stay back there for now."

Sliding into the passenger seat, you waited for the argument, but Dean just burst out into laughter before climbing in. "Hey, at least he put a blanket down. Smart boy."

You shook your head, pretending to be grumpy, but truthfully, you were in a great mood. You had an amazing night with Dean, doing some of the same things Sam had probably done, and here you were, traveling down the road with your two favorite people.

After turning the car on, Dean put in a cassette, a sly look on his face. Bob Seger filled the speakers, and you raised an eyebrow at him. Sam leaned forward. "Seriously, you're night moving me?"

"Shh." Dean said, as you realized what song it was. As he pulled out of the driveway, he started to sing along, teasing his brother, and it wasn't long before Sam joined in, and you listened, with a big smile on your face.