"No, I'm not," Lyra refused once again.

For the past few minutes she and Dean had been arguing over some inane matter as usual. She didn't want to wear the security company uniform Sam had insisted upon, which seemed, quite honestly, useless to her. Even Dean secretly shared her opinion but just for the sake of argument, he had taken it upon himself to make her wear it, just as he was going to. It was now a usual scene to see them butting heads, no matter the issue. The air between the two had been frosty as of late, which Dean suspected was a delayed reaction to Cassie. And he wasn't entirely wrong.

"The hell you're not!" Dean nearly shouted, turning around to face her. Sam was hiding safely in the bathroom, prolonging his shower just to avoid being a witness to their verbal sparring.

"If you didn't understand it the first or the second time 'round, let me tell you once again- no. I. Will. Not." She replied in a controlled voice, though it was harder than steel and her eyes were the same. Oh yes, the battle tactics of the two couldn't have been more diverse. While Dean had more of an explosive anger, Lyra was all cold fury. And if she was the master guilt-trapper, his words were sharper than a vampire's fangs and cut deeper than just her carotid.

He was losing his patience now, "Son of a…!" He threw his wet towel on a nearby chair and took a half breath to reign in his loud voice. "What's your bloody problem Lyra? You've never been this brattish before."

"Brattish!?" she all but shrieked at him. "You call this brattish? Let's see." She crossed her arms over her chest, a tell-tale sign that she was going into one of her defensive tirades. "Who whines when they don't get their pie? Who monopolises the music during car rides? Who throws a fit when their car gets so much as a scratch? Who pouts like a child when something doesn't go their way? Who uses the 'I'm older' card just to establish their authority? Oh who could be all this? Me? But that's you, isn't it?"

"Can we not do this?" he said in a defeated voice. "Just wear the damn thing and get it over with."

"No, why don't you let me sit this one out?" she threw back. "Or maybe Sam can do it on his own; it'd save you the trouble too."

"Don't be stupid! You know I can't let him go in alone. And if I can wear this clown dress, so can you." His tone left no room for further argument and Lyra was smart enough to not do the contrary.

"Fine!" she yelled, snatching up the ill-favoured clothing and stomped to the bathroom, at the entrance of which Sam was standing awkwardly. The door closed after her with a bang, eliciting a wince from the tall Winchester, who was searching his elder brother's face for something. He didn't know what though.

Dean heaved a sigh, closing his eyes for good measure, and pulled himself together to give the other guy a smile- a smile that clearly didn't reach his eyes. "You ready to go?" he asked, trying to put false cheer in his voice. He had long learned not to let the recurrent squabbles with his wife affect his behaviour otherwise. If that were the case, he'd be a grumpy old man way before his time.

"If you are," Sam replied hesitantly. He was debating whether to prod the elephant in the room or not, and in the end chose the wiser of the two alternatives. Pretending that he hadn't just overheard battle #24 of their on-going war was the best option when Dean had already been pushed to his limits.

"Trust me; I've never been more ready to take on a gig. Body torn to pieces? Something new finally," he answered with a smirk, but his eyes belied the lightness of his tone. And Sam understood just what he meant- he was eager for an escape, anything to keep his mind off of tearing of something else and pieces of a different kind.

"Yeah, something very new." Dean's carefree façade faltered for a moment when he understood that Sam wasn't commenting upon the case when he said that. But he had no words to explain it to his younger brother just how he felt about the 180 degrees turn his relationship with Lyra had taken. He just hoped that their ship would somehow resurface before hitting rock bottom. Honestly, he couldn't even tell up from down, anything he tried took them down in the dark water. Oh the irony of it! To think that they were sinking deeper when he felt he was out of his depth here.

Just then the door to the bathroom opened and out strode Lyra, looking like nothing had happened mere minutes ago. She walked over to the main door, picking up her phone on the way and stopped at the threshold. It was only then did she give any indication that she'd noticed the other occupants of the room, "You guys coming or what?" She said this so nonchalantly that it was hard to discern the actual state of her mind.

Dean gestured for Sam to follow her out and thanked fortune once again for never blessing his parents with a daughter. His brother was bitchy enough as it was, he wouldn't have survived raising a teenage sister. But alas, he was meant to have a taste of such curse and so here was Lyra. Curse, ha! His mind was high on iron it seems, thinking up all those ironies. Him and thinking… his wife would consider that an irony in itself. But oh his wife… Dean Winchester's wife. No irony could beat that one though.

XXX

The car ride to Meredith's apartment was terse and quiet, with Lyra staying aloof in the backseat. It was quickly becoming a norm now, and while previously Sam enjoyed a little silence after Lyra's constant chatter, now he found it deeply unsettling. Worse thing was that he didn't know how to fill the void which Lyra's muteness had created. Dean was no good at small talk and she always had her earphones on. It seemed that nowadays she bothered her vocal cord only to argue with Dean.

Sam's musings were interrupted when the Impala came to a halt and Lyra hurried to get out. He sighed before opening his own door and joining Dean, who was walking behind Lyra with a wistful expression. But still his brother kept up appearances and Sam was forced to put up with the farce, even though he itched to call bullshit. And before long, they had reached the apartment and the landlady was leading them in. He saw Lyra enter behind them, as usual either two steps ahead or behind them but never together, always preferring her own company.

"Thanks for letting us look around," he said to the landlady. It was time to work, a welcome distraction now.

"Well, the police said they were done with the place, so…" she replied, moving with him further into the room while Dean inspected the front door. They stopped in front of the area where the body must've been, before it was removed. "You guys said you were with the alarm company?"

"That's right," Dean answered her, manoeuvring his body around Lyra to reach them.

"Well, no offense, but your alarm's about as useful as boobs on a man," the landlady commented and Lyra snickered albeit her sour mood.

"Or a brain on him," Lyra added. She was vague in her words but to the brothers it was clear who she meant. "But that's why we're here," she spoke again, addressing the elder woman. "To see what went wrong and stop it from happening again."

"Yeah, just like you did with us." Sarcasm. Dean was close to mastering its art after all. But apparently his talent wasn't so appreciated, for Lyra wordlessly turned around upon hearing that and went on her own. Sam could only suppress a sigh and distract the landlady from inquiring after Dean's remark.

XXX

It wasn't that Lyra enjoyed the discord that had cropped up between the two of them, rather the opposite- she despised it. But she was helpless when it came to talking things through and sorting out their issues. She couldn't do it. Every time Dean approached her with a level-head, wanting to know the root of all their problems, she'd panic and use the best defence in the world- attack. And his patience would only hold out for so long against her tenacity, turning their talk into an argument once again.

She knew that Dean was losing hope of ever building back their relationship. She didn't want him to, but nor was she able to overcome her fear. Oh yes, she was afraid, that all her insecurities would prove to be true. He was right; it had started all because of Cassie, but had nothing to do with her. It was a long time coming she guess. They were married and then they fell in love, simple as that. But was it? There was a curse involved and a whole lot of supernatural. Nothing was simple about their story.

Lyra knew that Dean loved her, truly, in his own way. But she feared that it might be a love born out of circumstances than the feelings of his heart. She had once told Sam that she wants the best out their fated marriage, but to think that Dean grew to love her to make the best out of their situation was unbearable. The seed of this doubt first took root in her mind when they were helping Cassie and it has only grown ever since. No matter how many times she uprooted it, another would take its place. And it had gotten worse over the past month. She didn't want to actually ask Dean about it, thinking that if he confirmed her doubts, she wouldn't be able to take it. At least it was just that right now, a doubt, and she could live with it.

But would you call this torment 'living'? This was the question she'd been mulling over since the morning. While Dean and Sam searched the crime scene for evidence, she searched her mind and soul for an answer. The daily fights they now had, they were taking a toll on her. She ate less, slept less, and talked even less. Both brothers had noticed this change in behaviour, Dean more so than Sam, but neither was able to coax her into divulging the reason to them. They were clueless on the matter. And so was she. Lyra wanted it to change, for things to go back to as they were before. She wanted to stop fighting and start smiling but her emotions were out of her control. All she felt now was despair, anger and loneliness. All she felt now was depressed.

The answer came as a startling realisation. But thankfully she knew how to pull herself out of it. She'd battled depression before and emerged as the winner, she can do it again. Besides, it wasn't as severe as it had been when her parents had died, and she had the key to freedom this time. She'd decided. Tonight she would talk to Dean and set everything straight. Either he will confirm her doubts or dismantle them. She would prefer the latter option, but both ways she'll have a closure on the issue. Only problem was her uncontrollable emotions. She'd never felt more like a teen with raging hormones before now. And this too would happen when she was at the edge of crossing her teenage. Fate must really hate her.

XXX

They were at the bar where Meredith used to work. And Dean was in dire need of a beer after such a long day. It was a respite indeed that Lyra seemed calmer than she'd been in a while. He hadn't overlooked the fact that her demeanour exuded a serenity which had been missing from her expressions of late. This peacefulness had a contagious effect on him, and he found that he could breathe a little easier. 'Another day gone by,' he thought as he took another swig from his drink. Yes, the day was over but the night was still young.

"So, did you get anything?" Sam asked him as he took a seat beside his brother and his wife.

"There's nothing to find out," he answered, eyes involuntarily turning in Lyra's direction to check her over. "I mean, Meredith worked here, she waited tables, everyone here was her friend. Everybody said she was normal. She didn't do or say anything weird before she died, so—what about that symbol, you find anything?"

From their investigation of Meredith's apartment, they'd discovered that the drops of her blood on the floor, when connected, formed a strange symbol. Sam had been researching about it and Lyra, well, she'd been keeping him company.

"Nope, nothing. It wasn't in Dad's journal or in any of the usual books. I just have to dig a little deeper, I guess," Sam replied but Dean heard little of it, so keenly was he watching her. And so when their eyes met and she smiled tentatively, Dean was dumbstruck. She raised one brow at his expression and offered him the fry she had picked for herself. He took it with barely concealed surprise and couldn't help but return a small smile to her.

"Well, there was a first victim, right? Before Meredith?" Dean enquired but his voice came out as a little breathy, and Sam looked up from the papers before him with a quizzical look.

"Right. Yeah." Sam alternated his gaze between Lyra and Dean until his brother tore his eyes away from the former. "His name was, uh—his name was Ben Swordstorm. Last month he was found mutilated in his town house. Same deal—the door was locked, the alarm was on."

Dean fleetingly read the newspaper clipping Sam had handed him, not really paying any attention. He had more than enough faith in Sam to leave the fact finding to him. "Is there any connection between the two of them?"

"Not that I can tell—I mean, not yet at least," Sam answered. "Ben was a banker, Meredith was a waitress. They never met, never knew anyone in common—they were practically from different worlds."

"Yeah well…" Dean trailed off, his attention again focused on Lyra, who was playing with the fries. He was looking at her so intensely as if copying his creepy stare would turn him into Edward Cullen and he'd read her mind. Yeah, likely. But both of them were brought back from their reveries when Sam abruptly stood up. They followed him with their eyes as he made his way over to a blond girl sitting at another table with her back to them.

"A friend from college perhaps?" It was Lyra who had spoken and Dean's mind turned blank for a moment. He couldn't comprehend that it was indeed her talking and that it wasn't an insult thrown his way.

"Maybe," he agreed, reduced to monosyllables in his state of shock. "Shall we?" He inclined his head in the direction Sam had gone, receiving a silent nod in reply.

Together they walked over to where Sam was talking to the girl and took a place behind him. Dean cleared his throat to get their attention but Sam seemed intent on asking her whatever it was he wanted to know. When it didn't work the first time, Dean cleared his throat a little louder the second time, earning a 'what the hell' look from Lyra. But it had done the trick and the girl addressed him with a "Dude, cover your mouth", which clearly wasn't the response Dean was hoping for.

Sam finally took note of them and made the introductions, "Yeah, um, I'm sorry, Meg. This is, uh—this is my brother, Dean and-"

"This is Dean?" Meg interrupted him with a surprised face.

"So, you've heard of me?" Dean said with a smile, hoping to impress her.

"Oh, yeah. I've heard of you," she replied, sounding harsh for a just met stranger. "Nice—the way you treat your brother like luggage."

"Sorry?" Dean was confused and beside him Lyra had narrowed her eyes.

"Why don't you let him do what he wants to do?" Meg raved. "Stop dragging him over God's green earth."

"Whoa," Lyra cut in, chuckling bitterly. "And why don't you let Sam fight his own battles?" Her words surprised Dean who hadn't expected her to jump to his defence.

"You must be the tag-along who stole his brother away from him," Meg retaliated with a sneer plastered on her face.

"Then you must be the bitch who sticks her nose where it doesn't belong." Snarky is Lyra's middle name for all intents and purposes, what with the amount of snide remarks she can give.

"Why don't you two calm down," Sam stepped in, forced to play the mediator once again. And Dean almost expected the floor to freeze when he saw the two girls glaring icily at each other.

"Nice company you keep Sam," Lyra said acerbically, briefly directing her gaze at him.

"Yeah, very nice family you have there," Meg replied in an equally acidic tone. "An overbearing brother and his-" but she couldn't finish her sentence as Lyra was suddenly crowding her space.

"Don't talk about things you know nothing about." Lyra's voice was so low that she could've been telling her a secret or delivering a threat. And it certainly wasn't the former.

But Meg wasn't one to be cowed. She matched Lyra's intimidating stance and looked more evil somehow with that smirk. "Sam told me enough."

Lyra let out a dark laugh, looking at the other woman with something akin to commiseration. "It's a pity that you'd give weight to a stranger's words rather than form an opinion of your own," she said, and after a pause added, "I was wrong. You aren't just a bitch, you're a dumb bitch."

"I think that's enough." Dean finally deemed it necessary to intervene and placed his hand on Lyra's shoulder, urging her to move. But truth be told, he was having a hard time suppressing his smile. They left a scowling Meg and an embarrassed Sam behind to get out of the bar. His wife seemed to be simmering down and so he kept his quiet, lest he angered her again by saying the wrong thing.

"She was wrong," Lyra said once they were in the open air. "And so was Sam if he told her that."

"Told her what?" he asked, his voice a combination of curious and confused.

"That you're overbearing." Her answer was short and he thought it wise to leave it at that. But he was touched that after all their fighting, she still saw him in a good light.

She broke the silence after a while of mustering up her courage, "Aren't you upset?"

"And why would I be?"

"Because your brother bitched to some girl about you and the same girl confronted you over it. In a public place no less."

"Well, I've got more upsetting things on my mind than that." His reply shut her up and she actively avoided his eye. Dean felt a little bad for saying that but he consoled himself that it was justified, everything considered. Just because she'd stood up for him didn't erase their differences. They still had a lot to talk about and all he hoped for was to cross that bridge without blowing it. But right now, Lyra's words had got him thinking, did Sam really think him overbearing?

"Did Sam ever talk to you about this?" he asked, trying to meet her halfway in having a normal conversation. If she could initiate it, he had no problem in continuing it.

"Yeah, he did," she replied sheepishly. "He wanted us to stop fighting and-"

"No," he interrupted her, knowing what she was talking about. "About what the chic said inside."

"Oh, about that." She flushed in embarrassment. Her thoughts had been on their strained relationship and so she'd answered him accordingly. "No. Whenever we talked, it was usually about us. He'd always change the subject when it came to his feelings," she told him, reminiscing about the day when she'd confronted Sam on the issue. He'd evaded that talk too. "But I did ask him if he felt as if I was interfering between you two. And funnily enough, the answer was yes. That idiot thought you were going to discard him now that I was in the picture."

Dean was surprised on hearing that. Was his brother really that insecure? Sam had always avoided family sentiments, thinking them too much to handle, but it looked like he was quite starved of it. And he was so attached to him that he was jealous of Lyra. This thought curled Dean's lips upwards and he smiled genuinely after a long time.

"Dean?" Lyra called him warily, hoping the smile would stay there when he looked at her. But it faded away against her wishes.

"Yeah?"

"Can we… talk?" she asked uncertainly. 'Talk' seemed such an inadequate word for the conversation they were going to have.

"About damn time."

A/N: I'm sorry guys. I know it's been almost a year and I didn't update. Hope this was up to your expectations. My summer vacations will be a month long and I think I'll be able to update frequently in this period. And yeah, do tell me if you have any ideas for this story, I'd appreciate them. Well, thanks a lot for your reviews, favs, and follows. See ya!