A/N: These stories follow no set time line. The are snap shots taken from the relationship of Dean and Princess. As of right now she has no name, or physical description. That may change in later chapters
It wasn't the apple pie life like Dean thought it would be, but it was nice, it was safe. It wasn't long after he found her, that he officially moved in. He found a job as a mechanic; after all it was what he knew best. It was an easy life. Sometimes he'd pick up the groceries, or dinner, and in return she let him stay. She let him find comfort in her; not in the physical sense. But if he needed someone to just sit next to him, just so he wouldn't as alone even for just a few minutes, she was there. Sometimes she would hold his hand, give him reassuring squeezes, and sometimes he would squeeze back. Sometimes, after he had drunken himself into yet another stupor she was lead him back to his room help him out of his dirty work clothes ease him into bed, and she would just sit there until he fell asleep. Her presence beside him was always comforting. So no, it was not the apple pie life Dean envisioned for himself, but it was his life.
Sometimes he considered trying to be something more with her. But he was scared, he wasn't ready to let anyone in like that; not ever again. He couldn't stand to lose her too. He found himself thinking sometimes, that if he ever maned up, he could have that life. Move out of her shitty apartment, maybe find a house, get married, have a couple kids. But that's not what fate had in store for Dean Winchester. Oh no. As it turned out, when he picked her up from work that day (her car was in the shop) there was an unexpected guest sitting at their table.
"Sammy?"
It was a blur after that. There was a fight, she remembers. Her table splintered into large pieces of wood, pots and pans strewn throughout the kitchen, some broken plates that had been in the dish holder next to the sink. It was clear, only after Sam had pinned Dean down, that he was indeed Sam, and nothing else.
"How long have you been back?" Dean asked from his seat on the couch. Sam stood leaning against the doorway of the kitchen. Dean winced, pulling his hand back as She dabbed anti-septic on it. She rolled her eyes, pulling his hand back, and bandaging it.
"A while."
"And you didn't say anything?" Dean snapped.
"You were out Dean. I wanted to, but Bobby said you'd found…" Sam looked pointedly at the young woman.
"That doesn't mean you can't pick up a fucking phone and say "Hey, guess what, I'm not dead!'"
"Dean, calm down." She spoke softly.
"Princess, can you give me and Sam a minute alone?"
"After what you two did to my kitchen? Not a chance in hell."
"Sam, why are you here? Why now?" Dean demanded standing up, giving his injured hand a few clenches, testing it.
"I need your help Dean."
She always knew that something would pull Dean away. Don't get it wrong, she was thrilled to have Sam back. Really she was. But she was selfish, and she wanted Dean to stay. Dean had always only been one foot in this life. He wasn't cut out for the apple pie life. He wasn't meant to be in her life. So when Dean said he'd be home in a few days, she just smiled. If that's what he had to believe then fine. But she knew. God did she know; Dean was meant to hunt things, save people. After all, as he had told her once, it was the family business.
