Dean was three hours outside of Star City by the time the sun went down that day. God, he really hated that stupid statue. Even if Oliver got swamped with work and couldn't find time to commission a new one, he knew that Thea would come around and make him do it. It had been a while since he had seen Thea. Something he needed to rectify as soon as he got done with this new hunting trip Castiel notified him about. Some rogue serial killer demon in Chicago.

September 11, 2011

Dean got wind of Laurel being in New York with Sara, for the anniversary week of the Twin Tower attacks, and elected to surprise her. The pair hadn't seen each other since his birthday that year, where she apologized profusely for kissing him the last time they saw each other. Dean said he hadn't minded, that it was okay, and expressed his happiness that she seemed to be getting back into the swing of things. He kissed her forehead before he left and gave her a bottle of his favorite brand of whiskey to commemorate said recovery. It was empty, obviously, and in hindsight he was fully aware that it was a terrible and somewhat insensitive gift for someone with family history of alcoholism, but she was gracious and accepting of it anyway. He knew she probably threw it out and he didn't care. He just wanted to give her something. Anything.

Now, today of all days, was going to be different. Laurel was different, special. She deserved something special. The sisters stayed in a two-bedroom suite which none of them knew how they afforded. He didn't have much cash on hand or a credit card that could be used for something that was actually somewhat trivial but it was Laurel. He bought her a stuffed bear and bought Sara a backpack for college. She thought it was lame, but expressed said disinterest in a far less obvious manner than she would nowadays. Later that evening, Laurel brought Dean into her room for a private conversation.

"Dean. I need to ask you something and I need you to be honest with me."

"Oh… okay. Sure. What's up, DL?"

"What is this? What are we?"

"Laurel-"

"Don't 'Laurel' me, okay? You sound like my sister. Do you want to be with me or not? Are you just gonna keep popping up for visits randomly? You know how I feel about you and it's not fair to me to keep dangling hope in front of my face like a dog with a stick. I deserve better than that and we both know it.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. I…" this was the moment of truth and it was all-important, Dean knew this. "I'm not… I like you. A lot. You're fun and kind and smart. You don't judge and you don't become some petty little minx like some of the other women I've come across. I mean they were demons, so…" he was fumbling and he had to say something positive. He backtracked. "There's only one other woman even remotely like you I know and she doesn't even hold a candle to you. She's not important or relevant to this conversation," he caught himself. Nice save.

Laurel, though, was less than impressed. "I better not be just some piece of ass to you, Winchester."

"You're not, I- this life. It's not something you want. I know you've said otherwise, but trust me on this."

"You're worried the road is gonna change me, that I won't be sweet innocent Laurel anymore. You don't gotta worry about that. Ruby already irrevocably changed that."

Dean wanted to hug her or wrap her in blankets and tell it would all be okay. Maybe hugs and blankets, and that was about as alien to his personality as it was his baring his feelings so honestly to someone he had only known a handful of times.

"You don't want me, Laurel. I'm a mess."

"I'm a mess too. Why can't we be messes together?"

"In another life."

And that was it. He turned to go, Laurel stopped him and kissed him again, but he still left. Neither of them really knew what the kiss meant, and it would take Dean months to recognize that the random show of affection meant anything to him, but it meant something.

Dean wished he could have given her a straight answer then.

"She was your heaven, wasn't she?" came an all-too-familiar voice from the backseat. Glancing in the mirror, Dean saw Amara in the back looking directly at him. He slammed on the brakes hard enough to leave marks on the road. That red hair and black dress haunted so many of his nights when he first met her. It scared him that something so powerful had such an investment in him. Any sort of investment.

"She was your heaven," Amara repeated.

You are my heaven, Dean Winchester, was the closest Laurel ever came to outright saying she loved him before her poorly timed and altogether unnecessary demise.

If we're sinners then it feels like heaven to me were the lyrics of a song Laurel used to play for them whenever they stayed in and had a night wrapped up in each other's arms. It wasn't very many times they enjoyed such nights but she always played the song at least three times. It would blast through the apartment, neighbors and their sleep cycles be damned. Now that wasn't to say that Laurel didn't feel bad about that little fact, afterwards, but in the moment she did not care. He didn't either.

"Yeah," Dean grunted after an what seemed like a brief eternity. "What about it?"

"My heart breaks for you, Dean. If there was something I could do… I know I brought Mary back but Laurel was important to you too. I understand that. I hope it gives you some sort of solace to know that she is in Heaven. She is where she belongs. She's happy. Small comfort I know but it is something. You gave me what I needed most. Drive another mile. You'll find your friends and I have done the same for you."

"OOOOHHHHH! RRRNNN!"

"Come on, Laurel! Come on, you can do it!"

"I can't, Thea, I can't!"

"Yes, you can," Thea and Dean's voice, simultaneously right there with her and a million miles away, were the cables tethering her to reality. That this wasn't the be-all-end-all of the universe. That the pain would pass soon.

"Push, Laurel," Dean whispered.

A few deep breaths later, Laurel pushed one final time, a mighty bellow escaping her lips.

Then there he was. They're little boy they had been waiting a good 42 weeks for.

A little while later, the happy family were playing in a playground. The boy would be hiding behind the big tree on the property then poking his head out at his parents with a laugh. It was fun.

Laurel saw the boy grow up and marry the love of his life. Who that love was changed every single time. Sometimes a guy, sometimes a girl, sometimes himself. She wanted nothing more than for her son and her husband to be happy.

When she died, they were both right there. Dean passed on with her.

And then it all started over again- until one day it didn't.

She vaguely recognized the man in the trench coat who stood before her. He and the man in the black suit had beckoned her to join them. It took a lot of convincing that this was all some vision but eventually she assented to their request. They opened a door for her and she was blinded by light as she stepped into a pristine white hallway.

Then she was somewhere else. It was cold, damp. Rain had fallen recently, its scent was thick in the grass beneath her feet. She was naked now but she didn't mind. The clothes she woke up in, in that grave, were old and not at all what she envisioned herself wearing when she died, so she ripped them off. She didn't want to be reminded of the recent happenings whirling in her mind like water going down a storm drain and so she removed the funeral clothes with all the slowness of a toddler. It probably strained her muscles and she most likely sprained something but she didn't care. She was dirty, her hair looked like a rat's nest no doubt. She didn't know anything, well nothing except one thing. All she knew was she had to find someone. Someone with green eyes and a kind smile. He would be good for her, he would have clothes and a roof and food for her. There was a road and she followed it.

Coming up on someone driving in her direction, she weakly flagged them down. She remembered how to wave, to use her voice. "Hey! Hey!" She croaked out in a small little yelp, her voice hoarse from nearly a year of disuse in her physical form.

Dean was alone by the time he came upon her. Amara had smiled and bid him ado. Rolling down the window, he just stared at her. His mouth was agape for longer than he knew was appropriate. Laurel's arms were wrapped around her chest and her hair was a mess. She seemed both aware and terrified. Almost immediately, he got out of the car and looked at her. Glancing back in the vehicle, he saw a trench coat there. Funny, that wasn't there before. Castiel never went anywhere without it. Grabbing it and draping it over the shivering woman, Dean looked her dead in the eye.

"Laurel? You okay?"

"I know you?" He certainly looked familiar. It took her a minute to realize who this was. The man with the green eyes and the kind smile! A name formed on her lips. She put a hand on his chest.

"Dean."

She put her other hand to her own chest. Something came to her then, something he used to call her.

"DL."

Dean smiled and kissed her. To his surprise, she returned the kiss. He didn't think he had ever kissed her first before then.

"Yeah."

He helped her get in the car and they drove back to the bunker.

For that moment, at least, all was right in the world. Castiel and Crowley looked on from the roadside, hidden behind the foliage and trees.

"Good on you," the king of hell smirked. "Good on you, Squirrel."

Cas moved to clap his shoulder.

"I will stab you in the face if you tell anyone about this. Let's say the boys have grown on me a bit. And the girl's nice enough."

And then the duo were gone.

Laurel was dozing for most of the ride back. When they finally returned to the bunker, Dean texted Thea to hold the door for him and not to ask why. The tears that cascaded down her face when she realized the sleeping woman had a pulse, the impossibility of it all, and the confused look on Sam's face were enough to make Dean actually have faith in the God he had met.

Miracles were possible, and he was going to take care of his.