Almost a year had passed since the incident at SucroCorp. The first three months were the hardest all around. Melody went days without eating. Sam hardly spoke. Both of them drank...heavily.

After six months, Sam started to feel like a normal human again. He'd stopped hunting entirely, meaning he dropped all the burner phones and he and Blair got a house. A real house. Melody, on the other hand, took all of her anger and hurt out on any monster that crossed her path in an attempt to find Crowley on her own.

After nine months, Melody, too, had begun to lose hope that she'd ever see Dean again. She'd gotten a job at a salon doing hair, while still hunting part time. She'd met someone, but there was no denying the empty feeing that was stabbing her at every turn.

At twelve months, Melody had accepted defeat. She'd stopped hunting, just as Sam had. The only phone she had was her main phone, that nobody knew the number to besides a couple of co-workers, Blair and Sam...and Dean, of course.

Melody and Blair were on their typical Thursday afternoon lunch date. They weren't together everyday anymore, but they were determined to see each other at least once a week.

Blair was working at the hospital in town, and Sam was working in construction for the time being. He's talked a few times about finishing law school, but it wasn't exactly in the cards for them yet.

"Ya know, I never thought to ask," Blair started, stabbing her fork through a piece of lettuce. "What ever happened to Clark? He seemed like he was really interested in you there for awhile."

Melody shrugged, taking a bite of her burger. "After Florida, he'd called a couple of times," she admitted. "But things seemed to be going a different direction with...with Dean."

Blair pursed her lips. "I'm sorry, I don't even know why I asked."

The brunette waved her friend's concern off. "B, I'm fine, really," she said. "I feel like I'm finally at a place where I can talk about him without feeling like my heart is going to fall out of my chest."

"That's good," Blair smiled. "I'm glad."

Melody's phone buzzed a single time on the table. Neither of them thought much of it, since they'd been out of the life. The most action either of their phones ever got was in regards to their jobs. Her heart sank, though, when she read the text from an unknown number.

Bobby's cabin. Come alone.

D.

It had to be a prank text. Even though it didn't logically make sense, because who the hell would know about Bobby's cabin and label their text 'D'.

Undoubtedly, it had to be a setup, but perhaps if it were, she could get some answers.

"Who was it?" Blair asked, dragging Melody's attention back to her.

Melody shook her head. "Nobody," she lied. "Wrong number." She looked at the food in front of her. There was half of her burger left, but she had absolutely no appetite let. "I'm actually really tired. I think I'm going to call it a day."

Blair raised an eyebrow, looking down at her friends phone once again. "Okay..." she didn't press her further. "Well, thanks for lunch."

Melody didn't respond as she dropped a twenty on the table and darted outside to her car. Everything in her gut was screaming that this was a terrible idea, but she had to put this joke to rest. If nothing else, this would be the closure she'd needed , for sure. She could remember her last day at the cabin, as though it were yesterday.

Melody was numb. Blank, really. Sam had driven them back to the cabin to get their belongings and get the hell out of dodge. Though, the night went a little differently. Instead of leaving as soon as possible, Melody curled up in the bed they'd been entangled in just hours before. The same bed that Dean told her he loved her.

She didn't say it back.

That was the realization that mangled her heart the most—he was gone without hearing her say it back. She had sobbed for who knew how long—she couldn't even hear herself, really. She had the flannel he'd worn the day before pressed to her chest. Ironically, Melody recalled cursing him for throwing his clothes on the floor instead of putting them in the dirty clothes, but in that moment, she was glad he didn't.

If Blair didn't drag her from the bed, she could've stayed there forever and not even realized that any time had passed her by.

Melody had reached the cabin by sundown. With every passing mile, she'd grown more and more anxious. Who—or what—could be waiting for her, all this way? Why here, of all places?

Hesitantly, she twisted the handle on the door. Melody half expected a demon or some kind of shifter to be waiting for her. When she opened the door, there was nobody there. However, when she went to set her keys on the table, there were two cups and a silver knife. It was a test. Without thinking twice, she poured each entire cup over her exposed forearm, as well as cut a line with the silver.

Her head turned towards the stairs, as she heard footsteps heading down them. When the owner of the clobbering feet reached the bottom, she had to grip onto the chair beside her to keep herself upright. "Dean?" Her voice was hardly a whisper. Melody had several dreams almost identical to this one. She'd reunite with Dean, and in each one, the more she walked, the farther away he'd grow.

Only, this time was different. This time, instead of moving away, he moved just as close to her.

He ran to her and wrapped his arms around her, picking her up and squeezing her tight. If this was a dream, her subconscious was cruel. "I thought I was never going to see you again," he whispered into her neck, not letting go. She could feel the warmth of his tears hitting her neck, and she realized that she was crying as well.

"W-what happened," she asked him. "All I remember is seeing you stab Dick, then you disappearing with him."

Dean set her back on the ground, stepping back a bit. "Yeah, I guess standing too close to exploding Dick sends you straight to purgatory," he murmured. For the first time in a year, he got a good look at her.

"You were in purgatory? For the entire year?"

Dean nodded, looking at the ground. "Time flies when you're running for your life," he chuckled half-heartedly. He looked up, seeing the vest she had on. There was a pair of scissors over a pocket on one side. "You've been doing hair."

She looked down to see that she was still wearing her vest. The left with no warning to anybody. Without a second thought. "Yeah, I was in the middle of lunch with B when you text," she said. "I'd just left work, and hadn't had a chance to take it off."

"You stopped hunting?"

Her shoulders shrugged. "Only recently," she explained. "Up until three months ago I'd been hunting down Crowley, trying to find any tiny piece of information on where you were."

He cracked the top on a beer, offering her one—to which she declined. "How are they, anyway?" He took a sip. "Sam and Blair, I mean."

"They're good," she said, running her hand across the wooden table. "Blair is a nurse on the maternity ward. She loves it. Especially since she can't—," she cut herself off, feeling as though she'd spoken to much.

Dean's face fell. "They tried?" His mouth dropped slightly. "After everything we went though, Sam still wanted to bring kids into the life?"

"Sam hasn't been on a hunt since you left, Dean," she told him. "It was really hard for us, you know? We thought you were dead. So, yeah. Sam wanted out of the life, and Blair followed."

Dean scoffed with a shake of his head. "Yeah, I'm real sorry that my year in purgatory was hard on you." Melody frowned, holding his gaze. "I'm sorry, Mel," he sighed. "Can we please not talk about it anymore? I didn't call you out here to reflect on my time in the torture box. I called you because, for a year, the only thing that kept me going was that I'd get to do this when I got back—," he grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her with more passion than either of them thought was possible.

The kiss was full of need, like a hunger he couldn't satisfy. Dean slipped her vest off and tossed it to the side as he pressed her against the wall. His lips moved from hers down to her neck. Urgently, he unclasped her jeans pulled those off, all the while, her hands were pushing his flannel off, and pulling of his shirt. He wasted no time in pulling her white t-shirt over her head, trailing kisses down her chest. "I love you," she whispered breathlessly. She'd never gotten to say it before, and she felt no different about him now.

His head popped back up to meet hers, and a small coy grin made its way onto his face. "I know." She shoved him backwards a bit, but it was all it good fun. In doing so, she was able to see the scars and marks on his body, signifying his struggles in purgatory. She frowned, looking at each scar and scratch—some still healing. He looked down to his torso, realizing then why her mood had changed. "Mel, I'm fine," he assured her. "No different than any other battle we've fought." They both knew that wasn't true. Purgatory was a non-stop battle with and and every monster any of them had ever sent there. He grabbed her hand and pulled her forward to close the gap between them. "If you want to spend this time we have alone talking about the ins and outs of purgatory, which I promise you don't, we can," he shrugged. "Otherwise, let's just enjoy being here together."

Melody nodded, understanding. She'd like to know, yeah, but it was clear that Dean didn't want to talk about it. Besides, since they were really alone with nobody to possibly disturb them, why not take advantage of the time? She smirked pushing him backwards once again, sending him over the arm of the couch before crawling over it herself.

And just like that, they picked up right where they'd left off—as if nothing had changed at all.

Sweat had started to bead on their skin, shining against the moonlight that filtered through the window. They had a lot of lost time to make up for, but Dean was enjoying this break with his arms wrapped around her as she laid on his chest. How in God's name she managed not to meet another guy who was just as infatuated with her as he'd been, was beyond him. Unless...she had? He wasn't going to ask—it wasn't exactly his business, right? In his mind, they'd stayed together, but Melody had no clue if he was even alive. "So...did you, like...see anybody?" He asked her.

Melody's breath caught in her throat as she heard the question. She had been seeing a guy, but it wasn't anything serious. The way she felt about him couldn't hold a candle in comparison to Dean. "For a couple of months, yeah," she told him, staring down at the fire Dean had started before she'd even gotten here. From lack of upkeep, it'd dwindled way down. "Only after I'd decided that you were dead. If I'd have known—,"

"I know," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. "For my strain of records, though, we never broke up."

Melody looked up at him, slightly amused. "Wait...We were together?" She feigned confusion, only to give up the act when she couldn't handle any more of Dean's hurt expression. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding," she sighed. "Things with Greg, though—,"

Dean twisted his face in disgust. "Wait, wait," he choked out through a stifled laugh. "His name is Greg? What is he, a tax attorney?"

"He's an accountant," Melody corrected him, rolling her eyes. "I was trying to lead a normal life. He came in to get his hair cut one day, and Holland, who usually did his hair, wasn't in, so I did it. Then he asked me to lunch and I said yes." She had no idea why she was telling him all of this. Dean was home, now, so what did that mean for her normal life?

Melody's phone started ringing on the coffee table beside them. It had gone of several times before, but they were far too....busy, to acknowledge it. She picked it up and saw Greg's contact picture of the two of them laughing in front of a building. Blair had taken it the night that Melody had introduced Greg to her and Sam. She hesitated before answering, giving Dean a warning glare as she spoke. "Hey, Greg, what's up?"

"Well, I'm in bed now, wondering why my girlfriend never showed up to dinner," he answered. "Then you didn't answer your phone when I called before, so I was kind of worried."

In the craziness of the day, Melody had forgotten that it was supposed to be her first overnight stay with Greg. He insisted upon cooking dinner and getting movies for them to watch. She'd completely dipped out. "Shoot, I'm sorry, I meant to call," she groaned. "Had a bit of a...family emergency, out of town." She felt so dirty, lying to him like that while laying naked next to Dean—dirty enough to make her climb off of him and put her clothes on. "I'll be back in a few days, then we can grab some dinner and talk about some stuff."

"That sounds a bit ominous," he chuckled nervously. "Should I be worried?"

"We'll just talk about it in person," she murmured, not being able to bring herself to give him the full truth. "Bye, Greg." She ended the call abruptly and pulling her shirt on over her head.

Dean sat up and reached for his boxers and put them on. He didn't speak as he went and grabbed another beer out of the fridge. His expression was was hard, but blank. "What do you plan on telling him," he asked, pulling his jeans back on. He didn't bother putting his t-shirt back on, only pulling his flannel over his arms. "The way I see it, it can go one of two ways. One, 'my boyfriend is back from purgatory and I'm leaving you because I'm in love with him', or 'my boyfriend is back from purgatory and I just thought you should know that, since we're in a committed relationship and I want a shot at a normal life'."

Melody narrowed her eyes. "So if I wanted a normal life, I couldn't be with you, or vice versa," she asked. "You couldn't do that if I asked you to?"

"You and I talked about this a long time ago, Melody Rose," his tone was firm, as he set the bottle on the table with enough force that beer floated out of the top and hit the wood beneath it. "Neither of us wanted out of the life. That's why we worked together." His words sharp, cutting at Melody.

"That's until I thought I lost the only person I've ever loved like that," her voice was raising, matching his hostility.

Dean slammed the beer bottle off the table with imminent rage. "You're not the only one that lost anything! I lost you, I lost Sam, I lost Blair, I lost my life!"

When the glass shattered against the wall, Melody flinched slightly. "I won't apologize for doing what I needed to do to cope," she lowered her voice to her normal level, trying to calm down. "And you can't blame me for dropping everything and trying to be happy again, Dean. Believe me, I would have much rather you'd been here this last year. But you weren't. I don't apologize for being hesitant to leave the life that fixed me when I was broken into nothing. I understand that you went through the unimaginable, but at the time, losing you was my unimaginable." Dean's stone cold face broke when he saw the first tear fall down her cheek. He took one step towards her, but she took one back placing a hand up. "I'm going to take a shower."

Dean ran a hand over his face, flustered. This wasn't how he had anticipated their reunion to be, but he also knew better than to assume that Melody would be sitting around waiting for him when he got back. It wasn't the first time he'd left her and she hadn't had an explanation.

He grabbed the broom that was leaning against the side of the wall and started to sweep the broken shards of glass into a pile, cleaning them up. He caught sight of Melody's phone sitting on the table, and after a moment of self infliction, he picked it up. He put in the four numbers that used to entail her password, 0124, and the phone successfully opened. She'd never changed her passcode from his birthday. Immediately on her Home Screen, he saw a picture of Sam, Blair, Melody, and a suited up man he assumed to be Greg. He went to her pictures next, finding quite a few pictures of her and Greg, some of Blair and Sam, and a lot of work she'd done on hair. As he scrolled up a good ways, he could still find all of the pictures of them. Some of Dean were off guard in the Impala, some were obviously meant to be blackmail pictures, some were of them as a group, but countless of them were of just Melody and Dean. He wanted that back more than anything.

Dean closed out of the photos app, and went to her messages. He searched for his brother's name in her threads, and text him.

Bobby's cabin. 911.

Judging by the length of time it took for Melody to get there, if Sam and Blair were even awake and left immediately, they wouldn't make it until sunrise. He needed some kind of normalcy, and maybe having them all together would help.

When he closed out of her messages, and spotted an app with a blue 'f' in the center of it. He opened it to find innumerable posts from people—never ending, no matter how much he scrolled. He hit a button that said profile and it brought up a page that read Melody Rose. All of those posts must have been from friends of hers. She'd really seemed to have made a life there for herself. That was all that Dean had wanted for her, when he left the first time.

The Winchester was at a crossroad. On one hand, he wanted to disappear and leave Melody to live her life the way she deserves to, but on the other, the thought of her being with anyone else enraged him. It wasn't often that Dean chose to be selfish with much of anything, but he was choosing to be selfish with Melody.

The stairs creaked as Melody walked down them, alerting Dean to put her phone back in its place. He turned her direction, watching as she cam back into the living room. Her hair was still damp, and her body looked cold and frail, as it usually did after showers. Honestly, it was Dean's favorite way of seeing her—mostly because it would give him an excuse to warm her up in his arms.

Melody walked over to Dean, pressing her head to his chest. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I want to be with you. There isn't a doubt in my mind about that. There's not a day that passed that I didn't think about you. And now that you're here? I just don't want to fight anymore."

Dean put one hand on the back of her head, and the other around her waist. "I'm sorry, too," he said. "Things got out of hand, but you know that hunting is all that I know, Mel. If you don't want to hunt anymore, I get it. But you've got to know that being with me is a one way ticket to anything but an apple pie life. I've been there. I've tried it. This crap follows us, no matter where we go."

"I know."