"Hold Me"

The plan was simple enough. Dean wanted to head off and explore a new area on his own — but Emma just wouldn't allow that to happen.

Over the past few days, the two had wound up traveling farther than they'd ever gone before. After making their way up a rocky hill, then moving down into a thick forest, the pair exited the woods and ended up on a beach.

The shore was much whiter than the one they'd arrived on. The water was a rustling ocean of blue.

Emma touched her hips and bent down a little, her ponytail flapping amidst the breeze. Their search was beginning to look painfully fruitless. They'd hoped to find something useful amidst this journey, but the trip was producing nothing at all.

After all the walking, climbing, aching, and pain, they'd found the same kind of area that they'd left behind.

Emma took a deep breath and closed her eyes, holding back a slew of colorful screams. Her face began to redden as she looked around.

Dean noticed her mood, and took his cue. It was time to try cheering her up again. After all, she'd only made this trip out of concern for him, and he couldn't help but feel guilty about that now. "Hey," he said in a friendly tone. "You know what I think we…" Dean's jaw fell open as his words trailed off. "Whoa…"

Emma caught sight of his face, then turned around. Upon seeing what he saw, her expression matched his.

A small tree house was nestled in a thick, short tree. A wooden ladder was beneath it, laying half-buried in the sand.

Emma squinted and glared, looking skeptical for a moment. As the sight before her began sinking in, her eyes widened and her lips parted.

For a few seconds, she wasn't quite sure just how to react. It seemed like they kept finding things that she wished they'd found sooner.

"You coming?" Dean asked, facing her with a smile.

Emma paused, then followed him across the sand.

They lifted the ladder and began their ascent.

Emma had a faint hope that living in the tree house would be like living in the city. If possible, she wanted it to provide the best of both worlds.

One look at the place told her to forget about that.

The building was a holey square with a slanted ceiling. Dirt and splinters were everywhere, and a small window could be seen in the back.

"Well…" Dean muttered, letting his gaze wander. "It's…it's…" He sighed, then placed a hand behind his head.

Emma found herself growing curious about its origin. She turned to Dean with a face full of questions.

"We know we're not the first people to live on this island." Dean entered the tree house and looked around. "I've got no idea when this was built, though." He stepped over to a window, and got another view of the beach. The building was positioned sideways above the sand.

"This place is so dirty," Emma said.

"It's nothing that a little water won't fix." He looked around, then flashed a grin. "Okay, maybe a lot of water."

Emma giggled, running a hand through her hair.

"I can haul some up here in that barrel we saw. I'll bet that we could have the place gleaming in about a week."

She looked about, offering no response.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she mumbled. "It's just that if we moved in here, we'd be saying goodbye to the old beach, you know? We've had so many nice moments there. And we'd have to walk pretty far to reach the lagoon from now on."

Dean nodded, going quiet. To his surprise, he found it unsettling to bid those places farewell. He didn't know that he'd grown so attached to them.

Emma lowered her gaze to the floor. "But I guess that's how it usually goes when you move someplace new. You have to say goodbye to your old neighborhood."

He studied her with a curious stare, then reached over and placed a hand on her shoulder. "We don't have to do this, Em. We can just stay where we are." Dean stirred as a sudden thought came to him. "Maybe we could take this place apart, and use the pieces for another raft."

Emma winced in surprise, glancing around at the walls. "It looks pretty old," she noted. "Do you really think the pieces would hold together?"

Dean began studying the place again. Emma definitely had a point.

"How far do you think we'd make it this time?" she asked.

He folded his arms and flexed his muscles. "Only one way to find out, I guess."

Emma raised her hands to her hips, then looked at the floor. "So we can use this place to try leaving the island, or we can let it stand, and try to embrace it as home." She paused in a bit of contemplation. "And if we came to embrace this place as home…we'd be doing the same for the island itself."

Dean looked a little confused. "I thought you'd already done that."

"No, what I did was accept living here. I haven't embraced it. There's a difference," she mused.

Dean paused to consider that. From what he could tell, Emma was happy most of the time, but she still wished that they could leave. The full transformation from city girl to jungle girl was something that hadn't quite happened yet.

Though Dean was a bit more content than she was, he knew that he wouldn't mind leaving either. He looked her over, then raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to try building this raft?"

Emma slowly shook her head. "We both know it won't work."

Dean's confusion grew a little. "So you're choosing to stay."

"I'm choosing to survive. The way I figure it, we've got two options here: we can go out on a raft — and probably die this time — or we can stay right here, and let life go on." Emma took Dean's hands in hers. "I think we should choose the latter."

After a week of cleaning and decorating their tree house, Emma and Dean officially moved in. A number of ornaments were hung about, and the word welcome was etched on the entrance floor.

Emma smiled while admiring the place, knowing that she and Dean would build some new memories here.

Once night had fallen, a beach party began.

Emma danced before a fire with a playful look. A flower crown rested upon her head, and a thick lei was dangling around her neck.

Dean rested on his side while eyeing the scene, grinning as Emma shook her hips. He erupted in applause as the performance ended, shaking his head in adoration.

Emma crouched down and held Dean's face, then placed a long kiss upon his lips.

The next morning, Dean prepared to embark on a private journey. The trip was expected to take a few days.

Unlike their recent trek together, Dean was heading someplace familiar this time. However, that didn't do much to brighten Emma's mood. "Are you sure about this?" she mumbled.

Dean nodded, tying a strap around his forehead. "Once I get this wood, we can keep the fires going a little longer. It's convenient for cooking." He leaned toward her and raised an eyebrow. "And it means I get to watch more of my favorite show as well."

While Dean was away, Emma would be gathering up food for a nice, big feast. Ultimately, they'd decided that it was best for them to split up on this endeavor. It would save time.

Dean didn't know why she was taking this so hard. It wasn't his first expedition, and it wouldn't be his last.

She looked him over, then lowered her gaze to the sand. "Whenever you go off on these little missions…" Emma paused, lifting her eyebrows. "I guess I still worry that I'll never see you again."

Dean touched her chin, then offered a smile. "I'll be back in a few days," he promised.

Emma nodded, still looking away.

An orange hue had spread along the beach, and the sun was descending over the distant waters.

Emma carried a bundle of pineapples across the sand, a dark silhouette against the gold horizon. She let the fruit fall amidst a pile she'd amassed, then crouched beside it while taking a breather.

Dean's absence was affecting her in the usual ways. The first day was always the easiest to bear. Rather than longing for him, she embraced the change; even the truest lovers could use some time on their own. The experience also brought her a sense of pride. She liked knowing that she could take care of herself.

Emma chuckled, then sprawled out on her back, spreading her arms as she looked to the sky.

Day two was when the loneliness began to arrive. As the sun began making its descent again, Emma stared downward while playing with the sand. The beach seemed so spacious — and so utterly quiet.

Unlike Dean, Emma had never been a loner. Isolation was one of her biggest fears. It was why she'd always been quick to surround herself with friends, even ones who she didn't have much in common with.

In addition to feeling lonely, she also felt worried. She was beginning to wonder if Dean was all right.

Once night arrived, Emma stripped off her clothes and cuddled up in a cover, touching herself in all the places that Dean usually did.

Dean looked up at the stars while sitting by a fire.

Whenever he got some time on his own, he was always reminded of his life in the city. Back then, he could spend days, weeks, or even months by himself. He'd lived in a shell while shutting out the world, seeing little value in interacting with others.

However, once he'd found Emma, he'd found his heart as well — and it was resting squarely within her hands. He still liked being alone sometimes, but he didn't like being that way for too long.

Dean threw a somber look at the stars. He put the fire out, then went to sleep.

Day three had arrived, and Emma was deeply sullen. Another sunset was looming before her. The area had been largely quiet all day.

She sat cross-legged by the shore, watching the waves with somber eyes.

"Hey," called a voice behind her back.

Emma shook a little, and her face lit up. She turned and saw Dean striding across the beach. A pile of firewood was laid out behind him.

Emma charged across the sand and threw her arms around Dean, smiling brightly as she closed her eyes.

Dean hugged her back, and ran a hand through her hair. "I missed you so much, Em," he said.

"Hold me," Emma whispered, nuzzling her unclothed body against Dean's. She glanced out the window of their new tree house, letting her gaze drift up to the stars.

Dean snuggled Emma beneath the cover, nestling her back against his bare chest.

Emma smiled and closed her eyes, resting her hand over his.