"So, an angel named—"

"Zachariah."

"Right, Zachariah," Nadia murmured, her voice soft as she sat between Dean's legs. He carefully twisted her hair, adding a clip at the root before moving on to the next section.

It was the first time he'd done her hair, and she appreciated the gesture—she'd been too exhausted to do it herself lately.

"He put you in some alternate world... where you and Sam didn't know each other? Where you worked corporate jobs?"

Dean nodded, his hands steady and his eyes focused. "Yeah, kinda surreal. It was all messed up, though—me and Sammy were just regular guys, working the 9-to-5. But you... you were there too. You were pretending to be my assistant, hired by Zachariah. I didn't know, of course. You pushed me to dig into the case, even when I didn't want to."

Nadia processed this for a moment, nodding slowly. "How'd I look?"

Dean smirked. "Your hair was different. Even in a professional setting, you had me droolin'."

Nadia smiled, a warm laugh escaping her lips.

"Okay," she said, taking a breath and trying to process everything. "So, Zachariah's whole point was to show you that no matter what you do, this life was the one you'd always end up in?"

"Yeah, even us."

Nadia froze at that, her chest tightening. Dean noticed her tension and slowly pulled his hands from her hair as she turned around to face him.

"Us?"

"Yeah," he said, wiping some leftover loc gel from his hands with a towel. "In the other world, you told me you were always meant to be my guardian angel. But when we fell for each other, we threw a wrench in their plan."

Nadia's stomach dropped, the weight of his words settling in. What if the alternate version of her had said something she was withholding from Dean?

"What else did she say?"

Dean hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "Pretty much what we already know. The angels have some big plan for me. She didn't know all the details, though. She would've told me if she did."

"She didn't?" Nadia asked, a glimmer of hope rising in her chest.

Dean shook his head. "No. She said they keep her on the outside. She lived as an angel, but because you're half-human, she wasn't allowed to know the important stuff."

Dean's face shifted as if he were remembering something else.

"What is it?" Nadia asked.

He looked at her, his eyes far away for a second. "She told me that if whatever they want from me ends up costing me you, or anyone else I care about, I have to make sure it's worth it. She said the angels were made to follow rules, no matter the circumstances—and that's what made her different than them."

Nadia blinked, taking in the gravity of that. She could feel the weight of those words hanging between them, even though part of her didn't want to admit it.

"What?" Dean asked, catching the shift in her expression. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing..." she said, but her voice was small, like she was holding something back. She hated that she even had to say it, but the thoughts had been weighing on her. "It's just... Even in an alternate world, I know I lose you."

Dean's eyes widened, and he immediately closed the distance between them. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said, pulling her into his arms. "You're not gonna lose me."

"I'm starting to find that hard to believe," Nadia murmured, her throat tight. "I mean, you got topside in September last year. Dean, it's April now. We've been busting our asses for months trying to stop this apocalypse, and the angels just keep beating you over the head about their plans for you. In so many words, they're saying you don't even have a choice in the matter."

Dean's jaw tightened, but Nadia wasn't done.

"And the worst part is, they're right. You're being treated like some kind of... pawn in their game. I hate it." Her voice cracked, the anger and fear bubbling up together.

Dean looked at her, concerned but also deeply moved by her words. He could see the fear in her eyes, and it scared him more than he wanted to admit.

"Babe," he said, gently rubbing her arms, trying to ground her. "I feel like we're switchin' roles here. You're supposed to be the positive one."

"I am positive," Nadia choked out, her voice laced with emotion. "Positive that I don't want you to be their hero. Let alone the world's hero. I want you to myself, even if it means the world burns. And you know what that makes me?"

She sniffled, her eyes welling up with tears. "An angel. I'm just as selfish and stubborn as they are, and that's what scares me."

The admission hung in the air between them. Dean stared at her for a beat, as if he was still processing what she had just said. The woman who had always supported him, always encouraged him, was now telling him that she didn't want him to be the one they were counting on.

Nadia couldn't help but feel relieved for saying it aloud, but it felt like a weight was still bearing down on her chest.

Dean slowly reached up and cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear. "You are not like them," he said quietly, his voice steady. "Well, not completely. You're better. Trust me, I'd feel the same way if it was the other way around. You know I've never been one to follow the rules."

Nadia couldn't help but laugh through her tears, sniffling. "No, you really haven't."

Dean let out a breath, trying to lighten the mood. "They can beat a dead horse all they want, but you and Sam are the center of my life. I won't make any decisions without considerin' you. I'm not their soldier, their savior, or their puppet. I'm Dean friggin' Winchester, and I'll save the world as I see fit. Plus, this fight ain't over. We can still stop this. Just one day at a time."

"One day at a time," Nadia repeated, her voice soft, but steadier now.

Dean pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. "That's my girl."

Nadia smiled into his chest, feeling a sense of peace settle over her despite everything.

Dean was right. One day at a time.

Nadia woke up the next morning to a visit from Mother Nature. It wasn't a surprise, considering the emotional meltdown she'd had with Dean the night before. She wasn't one to shy away from her feelings, but lately, she felt exposed, like an open wound that wouldn't heal no matter what she put on it.

In a mood, she decided to stay behind while the boys went to check out a possible haunting at a comic book store.

Fighting the urge to nap, she pulled out the scrapbook she'd been working on since Dean's birthday. Photography had become something of a hobby for her ever since then. She didn't have the technical skills, but she enjoyed capturing moments, the quiet ones that held meaning without needing words.

The scrapbook was filled with pictures of her and Dean, of the Impala, of Sam and Dean together—despite the rocky road they'd been on these past few months, there were still small moments that spoke volumes.

Mostly, those moments were in bars, the three of them drinking, laughing, and for a little while, forgetting about the weight on their shoulders—the family issues, the impending apocalypse, and the mess of their lives.

She flipped to a page, smiling at the photo of her. The one Dean took of her when he first told her he loved her. It was raw, real, and full of emotion. She'd never forget the look in his eyes when he said it.

The sudden ring of her phone startled her, snapping her out of the memory. She glanced at the caller ID and smiled when she saw the name.

"Joanna Beth Harvelle," she answered, holding the phone to her ear with a small grin.

"So you are alive!" Jo's voice sounded relieved, and Nadia could practically hear the smile in it.

"I am," she replied, her tone light. "You know, it's a lot harder to kill me these days."

"Oh, I know it. How are you? You guys on a case?"

Nadia stood by the window, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked out. "I'm good... but just okay, if that makes sense. We might have a case, not sure yet. The boys went to check it out. We're in Kripke's Hollow, Ohio right now—there's a comic book shop that might be haunted. How about you?"

"I miss my best friend," Jo replied, her voice full of longing. "I wanna see you! I was hoping we could meet up. Just me and you this time. No moms talking about their sex lives."

Nadia laughed, glancing outside. She saw Dean and Sam pull into the motel parking lot, dressed in their FBI suits. They had stacks of books clutched under their arms, and their expressions were a mix of frustration and confusion.

"Yeah, I want to see you too," Nadia said with an curious expression. She paused for a moment, then turned back to the phone. "How about we meet up after the boys and I figure out whatever's going on here? I think some girl time would do me good."

"Yeah, me too. Just let me know where to be, and I'll be there."

"Will do," Nadia said, her smile warming. "I love you."

"Love you too, Nadie. Bye."

She ended the call just as Dean walked in, closing the door behind him. He tossed his coat onto the bed, looking more irritated than usual.

"What's with all the books?"

Dean sat the stack down with a frustrated sigh. "So, we walk into this place, normal routine. Flash our badges, ask some questions—then the guy accuses us of LARPing."

"LARPing?" Nadia raised an eyebrow, clearly trying not to laugh. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Dean frowned, clearly still puzzled. "LARPing. Live-Action—"

"Role-play," Nadia finished, smirking. "Yeah, I know what it is. Why would he think you were role-playing, though?"

Dean's eyebrows rose, accusingly. "Why do you know what that is? I didn't even know what it was until today."

Nadia bit her lip to suppress a grin, trying to keep her tone casual. "Well, I might've dabbled a little bit with an old boyfriend—"

Dean's face twisted into a judgmental look. "Uh-huh."

"You do know we LARP for a living, Dean?" she said defensively, pointing to his FBI suit. "Now, focus. Why did the guy think you were role-playing?"

Dean grabbed one of the books from the pile and handed it to her. "Because of this."

Nadia took the book, her eyes scanning the cover before widening in disbelief.

"Supernatural by Carver Edlund," she read aloud, her voice tinged with disbelief. The cover was dark and mysterious, showing two muscular men standing under the moonlight in front of the Impala. One wore a vest, the other was shirtless, his abs practically carved from stone.

She glanced up at Dean. "Is this supposed to be you and Sam?"

"Yeah," Dean said, looking more uncomfortable by the second. "And get this—" he waved a hand toward the book, "—that's only the first one."

Her eyes drifted to the stack of books. "It's a series?"

Dean nodded, clearly dreading what was to come. "It's a series."

"No way," Nadia muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. She flicked through the pages, her amusement growing.

"Oh, I'm not finished yet," Dean added with a wry grin, tossing her another book.

Nadia was quiet for a moment too long for Dean's comfort.

"Robin?" he asked, unsure of her silence.

She snapped out of her thoughts and glanced at the back cover of the book, her brow furrowing.

"Born a fighter," she read aloud, her voice flat. "Nadia Hope Turner fights the monsters that go bump in the night while trying to maintain the relationships of her broken family. Nadia questions her faith, heart and spirit having always felt like something was missing from her life. Read about her story of resilience and how a tumultuous year in her life led her to meeting a man she would never forget."

Dean waited for her to look up, but when she didn't, he broke the silence.

"Dean, what the hell is this?"

"According to the guy at the shop," he replied, his tone a little heavy, "it's about your life, leading up to the day you meet me."

Nadia scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. "So, what you're telling me is that someone has been writing books about our lives. And people have been reading it?"

Dean shrugged, clearly just as confused by it all. "There's a big enough fan base for LARPing."

"How didn't we know about this?"

"It didn't sell well apparently." Dean's arms flail. "It has more of an underground cult following."

Nadia threw the book onto the table. "I think I would've preferred the ghost."

Dean rubbed his face tiredly. "You and me both. . . Sam's gonna be over in a minute. We gotta figure out how deep this thing goes, and more importantly, who this Carver Edlund is and how the hell he knows so much about us."

Nadia picked up the book again, flipping it open, her frustration giving way to curiosity. "Guess we might as well read while we're at it."

Dean gave her a sideways glance. "I was thinking the same thing." He went the bathroom to change into his regular clothes. Meanwhile, Nadia sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard, and started reading. After a few minutes, be joined her, stretching out beside her with his own book.

Not long after, Sam arrived, having changed out of his suit as well. He came in with his laptop and a fresh stack of books. While Nadia and Dean settled in to read, Sam sat at the table, his focus glued to the screen.

The couple quickly became surrounded by open books scattered across the bed. Dean was lying down, propped up on one elbow, while Nadia sat with her back still against the headboard beside him.

Dean turned the page and muttered under his breath, "This is freakin' insane. How's this guy know all this stuff?"

Sam didn't look up from his laptop. "You got me."

Dean sighed heavily, closing the book with a snap. "Everything's in here. I mean, everything. From the trunk to – to me having sex. I'm full-frontal in here, dude."

Dean sat up, his gaze focused on Nadia. She looked like she was getting emotional.

"Robin, what's wrong?"

"Back in '07, someone—a woman—called Bobby's house, but you answered. Do you remember that?"

Dean thought back, his brows furrowing in concentration. "I think. I never knew her name, we only flirted, really. Sassy thing she was... I remember her telling me, 'My heart goes out to the woman who's gonna have to listen to your—'"

"Corny pick-up lines for the rest of her life," Nadia finished his sentence.

Dean's eyes widened in surprise. "That was you?"

"That was me. I just didn't remember it until now," she said, gesturing toward the book as she stood and began pacing. "There are a lot of things in this book I didn't remember until now. Jo told me about you two.  You and I talked on the phone twice without knowing who each other was. And I was kidnapped during Halloween... by two demons. They were gonna kill me until this mysterious man saved me. A man I couldn't even remember. I still don't. Even in the book he has no name. There's barely anything about his looks. It's the same mystery man I bumped into at diner where he erased my memories at the end of the book."

"Let me see that," Dean said, his voice tight with confusion as he took the book from her.

Nadia turned to Sam. "How come we haven't heard of them before?"

"They're pretty obscure. I mean, almost zero circulation," Sam replied, his fingers dancing over the keyboard. "Started in '05. The publisher put out a couple dozen before going bankrupt. And, uh, the last one—'No Rest for the Wicked.'"

The couple joined Sam at the table as he turned the laptop so they could see. Nadia sat down, and Dean hovered at her side.

"It ends with you going to hell," Sam said, his tone flat.

"And you two have a whole series, while I have one book," Nadia said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Ironic."

"Is it, though?" Sam asked, glancing between them. "That book alone tells you that someone's been erasing your memories. Your mom when you were younger, this mysterious guy, and who know who else has? He sounds like someone who's wanted to help you, but also keep his identity a secret."

"It has to be an angel, no?" Nadia said thoughtfully.

Sam shrugged. "It's very likely."

Dean, clearly shaken, exhaled sharply. "I reiterate: freaking insane."

Nadia leaned her chin on her fist as she scrolled through the pages. "Look. There really is a fanbase. It's not very big, but an audience is an audience." She glanced at Sam. "Did you read this?"

Sam ran his fingers through his hair and nodded. "Yeah."

"I will say, though," Nadia continued, "they are very opinionated for fans. Simpatico says: the demon storyline is trite, clichéd, and overall craptastic."

Dean scoffed. "Yeah, well, screw you, Simpatico. We lived it."

Sam chuckled. "Yeah, well, keep on reading. It gets better."

Nadia smirked. "There are Sam girls, Nadia girls/boys, and Dean girls. Sadia shippers?" Her face contorted in disgust as she shared a look with Sam, both of them shuddering at the thought of being together.

Nadia's eyebrows furrowed as she skimmed the page. "What's a slash fan?"

"Now that's a porno." Nadia cackles.

While she thought it was hilarious the Winchesters did not.

"Oh, I'm sorry, only you get to make the porn jokes," she rolls her eyes at Dean.

"Doesn't seem to matter." Nadia reads over the comments by the slash fans.

"Oh, come on," Dean scowls in disgust. "That. . . That's just sick."

Nadia quickly pulled her hands away as Dean shut the laptop. "We got to find this Carver Edlund."

"Yeah, that might not be so easy." Sam leans back, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Why not?"

"No tax records, no known address. Looks like Carver Edlund is a pen name."

Nadia shakes her head. "There has to be someone who knows him."

Unfortunately, Carver Edlund seemed to be nonexistent. There was no way to find him, not until Sam stumbled upon the publisher. They managed to get an interview scheduled for tomorrow morning; they'd be going in as journalists.

The boys went out for dinner, but Nadia chose to stay behind. Too tired, too moody, and just too overwhelmed to be in public. She freed herself from the clutches of a bra, swapped into one of Dean's t-shirts, and bed-rotted in the dark, staring at the ceiling until sleep finally claimed her.

Around ten o'clock, Dean returned, waking her with a soft kiss on her forehead. Nadia groaned, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as she pulled him down toward her. She buried her face in the crook of his shoulder, inhaling the familiar smells of the Impala, fried food, his body wash, and a faint trace of cigarette smoke from the bar he and Sam had been at.

"I brought you some stuff back," he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

"Stuff?" she mumbled against his skin.

"Yeah." He smiled and patted her thigh gently. "Come on, let's get you up."

She rubbed her eyes, yawning, her body sore from the cramping, but too comfortable to leave the warmth of their bed.

"First, here's dinner." Dean handed her a grease-stained paper bag. "A bacon cheeseburger with extra cheese, extra bacon, and extra pickles."

Nadia's face lit up, her stomach rumbling as she eagerly unwrapped the sandwich and took a big bite.

"Good?" Dean asked, watching her with an amused grin.

"Mhm," she nodded, sighing deeply. She grabbed a handful of fries and stuffed them in her mouth, a tiny smile playing on her lips.

"I also got you..." Dean's voice trailed off as he reached into the bag again.

"Lollipops!" Nadia's eyes widened as she saw the variety pack. She dropped her burger back into the bag and wiped the bun dust off her hands together excitedly. The moment the pack was in her hands, she ripped it open.

Dean chuckled, then pulled out a small bag of popcorn. "Figured we could watch a movie." He placed it on the bed beside her. "And I got some meds for the cramps." He set a bottle of Tylenol on the table and added, "The lady at the store said these would help, too," pulling out a heating pad from the bag.

Nadia smirked and raised an eyebrow. "You know, I'm pretty sure you're the only man who'd remember heating pads and Tylenol."

Dean grinned and shrugged. "Well, I try."

He reached into the bag one last time and pulled out two greeting cards. "And lastly..." he held them up, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I thought you'd appreciate these as much as I did."

Nadia stuck her lollipop in her mouth and took one of the cards. She read the first one aloud: "You are bloody awesome," accompanied by a cartoon of a tampon, pad, and menstrual cup. Her eyes went wide, and she let out a muffled giggle.

She flipped to the second card. It read: "I love you and your tampon tunnel." Nadia cleared her throat, fighting a laugh. "Wow, these are..."

"Hilarious, right?" Dean asked, his voice full of smug satisfaction.

"Very," she giggled, a genuine smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks, Batman."

Dean chuckled, leaned in, kissing her.

"How you feelin'?" he asked softly, his hand resting on her leg.

"In general?" Nadia sighed, her voice quiet. "Bloody."

Dean chuckled under his breath, his thumb tracing circles on her leg as he waited for her to settle. She took another bite of her burger, before putting her lollipop back in her mouth.

"I meant about this whole book thing?"

Her tone shifted, growing more somber as the words spilled out. "It's crappy. Really crappy. Jo told me about you. And we talked on the phone twice—still didn't know each other's names. Bobby didn't even tell us about each other. Do you know how insane that is, Dean?"

Dean's brow furrowed, his hand tightening on her leg, sensing the depth of her frustration.

Nadia's voice broke, the panic creeping in again. "We're not in control of anything, Dean. None of it. Somebody wanted us to meet at a specific time. Their timing, their plan. Not ours."

"Nadia..." Dean's voice was soft, but firm.

"I know," Nadia takes a deep breath. "One day at a time. I know. I just . . . I don't know who's in charge, but I feel like we're puppets. Maybe we've always been." She shrugged disappointed. "Even after our talk about Zachariah, I thought maybe, maybe we were in control, you know? Maybe we could make our own decisions."

Dean's chest tightened, a familiar ache rising up in him. He could feel it—the same weight she was carrying. The fear that maybe all the choices they'd made weren't their own, that they were just following some invisible script. But Dean wasn't going to let her go there. Not tonight.

He scooted closer to her, his presence solid and steady. "Hey," he said, his voice low and warm. "You've always had control, Nadia. Just not in the ways you think."

She looked at him, her eyes still wide, unsure.

Dean cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing over her cheek. "I know it feels like everything's falling apart right now. But you're not losing control. You're in control of the things that matter. You're in control of us."

Her eyes softened, but the tension didn't leave her body. She let out a shaky breath. "What if Zachariah was right? What if this is all just leading us to the same end? What if none of this matters?"

Dean pulled her into him, wrapping her up in his arms. He held her tightly, feeling her heart racing against his. "It matters, Nadia." His voice was steady. "Everything you've done, everything you are... it matters. I'm right here with you. And we're gonna figure this out together."

Her eyes closed, and she leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body, his strength grounding her in ways she couldn't explain. For a moment, the world outside seemed less terrifying, the chaos quieter.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible, the tension in her shoulders easing.

Dean kissed the top of her head, his lips brushing her hair. "Always," he whispered back.