A/N: I do not own anything! Not Supernatural as a whole, not the boys (but damn, did I wish...), nothing. Except this little plot bunny, inspired by some dreams I've been having and the movie The Vow. Yes, it does contain OCs, and it is AU! Mary and John are not dead, and while there will (probably) be no actual hunting or supernatural things going on, our favourites will most definitely be making an appearance at some point.

Also, bear with me here. I have not written anything in years, so please, don't be overly harsh with your reviews. They will help me make a better writer, but flames and harsh critiques will definitely discourage me from posting more.

Faithfully

It was snowing when they left the movie theatre that night. Big, fluffy white snowflakes fell from the dark night sky, littered with small, twinkling stars. Streetlamps lit up the road, making the thin layer of snow seem to glow ever so lightly.

Pausing in her path, shivering as she yanked a pair of gloves out of jacket pocket, she took a minute to look up at the sky and couldn't help the smile that crossed her face. It had gotten significantly colder outside over the two hours that she had been inside.

"It looks like Christmas is finally going to be a white one."

"And we're gonna start looking like Jack Frost if we don't get moving."

Turning to her companion, she shivered involuntarily again and grinned. "What's wrong, Dean? Afraid of a little cold and snow?"

The man snorted and shoved his own gloved hands deep into the pockets of his deep, green jacket. Bouncing on his toes a little, the movement did little to warm him, and he fought to keep from letting his teeth chatter.

Managing a small smirk, he peered at the female with green eyes. Standing at only 5"3, her deep, red hair tucked underneath a matching beanie, Dean Winchester had no idea how she was choosing to stop and take a minute, instead of wanting to run back to the black Chevy Impala with him.

Cold, dry winters in Lawrence, Kansas were regular. The cold bit through layers of clothing, settling deep into a person's bones. Winter was the reason one chose to not be outside for any longer than they had to.

"I wanna get my baby warmed up, so I can get the both of us home. I don't really feel like becoming a human popsicle tonight."

"I swear, Dean," she answered, watching her breath appear for just a moment as she spoke, and followed Dean to the Impala, leaving footprints in the thin, cold blanket of snow as she went. "I think you have a bit of an unhealthy relationship with this car."

Unlocking the trunk, Dean pulled out a black and red ice scraper and snorted again. Tossing the keys to the woman so she could start the engine, he peered at her over the roof. "She's been good to me over the years. Can't help but love her, Kelsey."

The woman rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the smile that played along her lips. She got in as quickly as she could, and shut the door behind her, as if that would keep the dreaded cold at bay. Turning the key in the ignition, she smiled again as the Impala roared to life, the gentle purring of the engine a comforting sound. She didn't know much about cars (if anything really), but she could and did have an appreciation for the 1967 muscle car. Black, sleek and beautiful, it really was a gorgeous sight.

"Come on, come on!" she urged with a bounce in her seat, as she watched Dean quickly brush the thin layer of snow off each window, hustling around the vehicle, before sliding in behind the wheel and tossing the ice scraper into the back seat.

Blowing hot breath into his cupped hands and rubbing them together, Dean reached over to the dashboard and punched a button to get the heat to turn on. Though, it was useless. It'd take a while for the old car to warm up, but at least they weren't directly outside again.

Taking a brief glance at his friend, he cocked a brow and grinned. Her cheeks were flush pink with chill, the tip of her nose red. Her thin lips, already a dark pink, seemed even darker from the cold. He watched her yank her scarf up around her face, as if doing so would provide her relief.

"What?"

Dean chuckled and blew hard into his cupped hands again, and shook his head. "Nothin'. You're just really red in the face." Wagging his brows suggestively, he smirked again, teasingly. "Are you happy to see me?"

"Oh, shut up, Dean." The redhead rolled her eyes, but Dean was sure, even though he couldn't currently see her mouth, that she had that crooked smile, the one that always slid across her face when she was trying to fight the urge not to laugh.

Finally, when Dean decided that he had enough warmth in his hands - his body as a whole needed a whole lot more warming up - he seated himself properly, and sliding into Drive, he pulled out of the parking space, and headed out of the parking lot.

Slowing to a stop at the intersection, he glanced at the woman beside him bounce lightly in her seat beside him, her cheeks puffing as she blew out hot breath into her own cupped hands, now free of the gloves she had been wearing.

Jesus, she was like a ball of energy. Unable to sit still. Dean knew it was cold. Hell, he could feel it in his bones (and boy, didn't that make him sound like an old man), but for someone who had teased him about being afraid of the cold and snow earlier, Kelsey Livingston couldn't exactly keep still and hide the fact that she was freezing.

Not that she was ever a really motionless person to start with. At 23 years of age, Kelsey Livingston was one of the most energetic people Dean knew. She was the kind of person that would squirm and shift positions one too many times while sitting, or get up for a run at 8 am, no matter what day it was. Why she liked running, Dean would never know. He didn't understand why people would want to torture themselves like that.

In his opinion, if he were going to run, there had better be a bacon cheeseburger and a hot chick waiting at the finish line. Or some serial killer from some crappy, low-budget horror movie wanting to hack his guts out. Something to give him motivation, you know.

"Did you like the movie?"

Dean was pulled out of his thoughts at her question and he nodded. "Yeah, it wasn't too bad. The car chases were pretty awesome."

"I thought you'd-"

BANG. The Impala shot forward into the empty intersection, the light for Dean still red. Caught off guard, Dean had no idea what had just happened until it was too late. He had reflexively slammed his foot back onto the break pad, in an attempt to stop the wheels, but that succeeded in doing nothing. The wheels kept spinning, unable to create traction on the snow and ice of the roads.

The sounds of shattering glass, a high-pitched cry, the protest from the car's engine as Dean pounded on the break pad... the sound of metal, cranking and groaning in protest as it folded in on itself. These sounds filled the air, filled Dean's ears for what seemed like forever.

And then silence.

Please review and don't hesitate to offer suggestions! I've always got an open ear!