"Jesus, see, I knew you would do this. You're always crying, or getting insecure, or whining." His stormy green eyes meet yours. "I used to be all right with it, but it's getting real old, Y/N."

xxxxx

You wake up with a gasp, shuddering, and for a moment you refuse to open your eyes. It was a dream, I'm still in that horrible cell, I didn't get rescued, oh, God, he's not coming for me-

"Princess?"

Dean's concerned, sleep-roughened voice has your eyes snapping open. You're on your side, facing him, your front pressed to his. He blinks slowly, and his green eyes slowly focus on you.

You catch your breath for a moment, waiting for him to wake up enough to react to you being there. Despite your reunion, there's a little part of you that firmly believes he doesn't want you. That maybe, even if he is here, even if he is nice to you for a while, it will only be out of pity.

He doesn't want me, he doesn't want me, I'll just go-

Then his eyes warm, and his lips tilt up into a smile before he leans forward and captures your mouth with his. You freeze for just a moment, then kiss him back gently, gasping just a little bit into his mouth.

He groans softly, then you pull back. You cover your mouth with your hand and blush.

He frowns a little, which makes your heart ache. "What's wrong?"

"Dean, it's been three months since I brushed my teeth."

He blinks, then chuckles and wraps an arm around you. He moves down to nuzzle your neck. "Taste good to me, princess," he husks against your skin.

You sigh a little and lean into the touch, lean into the solid, real proof that he wants you. A man who doesn't want you doesn't ignore morning breath just to kiss you.

"Dean," you say softly with a smile, "Dean, let me go take a shower, and do things that normal people do for once."

Now he leans back, presses a kiss to your forehead, and examines your face. "You… They didn't let you shower?"

You shrug self-consciously, looking down. "I dunno, no. I mean, it wasn't… I was always clean, I don't know how, but-"

His lips against your forehead again stops your flow of words. "Princess, it's okay, I just…" He takes in a deep breath, then lets it out explosively. "What did they do to you?"

Morning breath be damned, you lean forward and press kisses to his jaw, trying to ease the raw pain in his deep voice. "Shh, I'm okay. I'm here now, with you, and I'm okay."

He buries his face in your hair, so you move your lips to kiss along his collarbone. "Can you tell me? What they did to you?"

You sigh and press your face into his warm chest, fighting your emotions down. You want to tell him, you do, but there's a deep-seated fear that when you tell him about the dream where he leaves you, there will be relief on his face, not horror or upset. That he'll use that to start the conversation he's been trying to figure out how to have with you for a long time. That he really does want to leave you, and it wasn't a torture dream, it was a prophecy.

So you lean back and smile up at him. "Shower first?"

xxxxx

Dean sits nervously in the kitchen, his leg bouncing, watching the coffee drip into the pot. He hasn't started breakfast, because obviously he's not going to ask her to make breakfast the first day she's free, but maybe she'll volunteer to make breakfast. It's a shitty thought, but Dean is pretty fucking tired of burnt toast.

He perks up a little when the shower turns off, but he waits patiently. He understands needing a moment, needing just a second to convince yourself that you're really back. Which is why, as much as he wanted to follow her into the shower and make her scream his name pressed up against the tile, he let her have her space.

Winch, predictably, took up post just outside the bathroom. Dean gets it. He wants to wait on her there, too. But here he sits, watching coffee drip, waiting on her here.

When she comes down the stairs, Winch next to her every step of the way, she's smiling shyly. Dean stands, unable to take his eyes off of her, and not wanting to anyway. He spent quite enough time not being able to look at her, thank you very much.

So he looks his fill, and he can't help the grin on his face. She's wearing one of his old sweatshirts (with what he hopes is nothing on underneath it) and a pair of what used to be tight jeans. She has definitely lost too much weight, in his opinion, and the clothes are all but hanging off of her.

She also looks worn out, there are dark circles under her eyes, and she moves with the slow deliberateness of someone who's exhausted. He wants to haul her right back up to bed and make her sleep for a week.

But somehow (and maybe there will come a time when he stops being surprised at her ability to surprise him), she still manages to look radiant. Her smile, though hesitant, is shining. Her face is pink from being scrubbed, her hair is damp on her shoulders, and her feet are bare on the hardwood. She's dwarfed in his hoodie, but she's the most beautiful thing Dean's ever seen.

He meets her in the middle and puts his arms around her to hold her close. She winds hers around his neck slowly, and when he tilts his head down to kiss her, she kisses back cautiously.

He doesn't like that. He doesn't like the careful way she acts, like she's expecting him to turn away or lash out at any moment. He doesn't know what the archangel did to her, and he didn't see any physical marks on her lovely skin the night before. He thinks it was probably some sort of psychological torment, and as he moves his lips against hers, he silently vows to kill the bastard for it.

But for now, she's relaxing minutely in his arms, so Dean takes that as a win and lets vengeance leave his mind for the time being.

xxxxx

Dean kisses you for what feels like both forever and no time at all before his belly rumbles. He seems content to ignore it, but you smile against his lips and pull away slowly. Always undeterred, he starts mouthing at your neck instead, his strong arms keeping you close. "Dean," you protest softly, laughing. "I can hear your stomach. Don't you want to eat?"

He grunts an answer, but his actions make what he wants very clear.

You smile. "You know, if you let me go over there, I can-"

"Jesus, Dean, she's been back for twelve hours and you're already attacking her. Could you not?"

Sam's voice has you turning to look at him with wide eyes. You didn't really even see anyone the night before, you just stuck to Dean like glue. So now, you examine Sam closely.

He looks tired and skinny, too. It's like none of them ate while you were gone. But his hazel eyes are warm, and he's smiling down at you. "Y/N, I'm glad you're-"

You cut him off by stepping away from Dean (who lets you go with an irritated grumble) and stepping into Sam's arms, wrapping yourself firmly around him. You press your face into his chest. "I'm glad you're okay," you whisper.

You feel his arms come around you, slowly returning your hug. "Back atcha," he replies huskily.

You take a deep, deep breath. This is what it was for. This is what we saved. We did it.

"What's everyone standin' around for?"

Now it's Bobby's voice that has you turning and beaming at him. But when your eyes land on him, your mouth drops open. "Bobby! Holy shit!"

He blinks, then smiles. "Yeah, Sarah fixed me up."

You pull away from Sam to fling yourself into Bobby's arms. "That's amazing!" Your exclamation is muffled by his shirt. He chuckles and hugs you close for a moment before you step back. "Damn glad you're okay, kiddo."

You smile shakily, and tears start to well up in your eyes. You're having trouble believing that you're back, that you're here, that you're safe…

You're having trouble believing that you're home, with your family.

Big hands from behind you turn you to face Dean, and you cuddle into him, sniffling and trying to get yourself under control. His hand runs up and down your back, holding you close and comforting you at the same time. His breathing is a little ragged, too, and that's comforting, too.

You finally lean back and smile a little. "I'm okay. Sorry, long couple of days." Bobby scoffs, which makes you chuckle.

You take a deep breath (been doing a lot of that lately) and look around the kitchen, which smells like coffee. You frown when you realize how empty it looks. It's still mostly clean, but it doesn't look like it's been used very much in the time you were gone.

It hits you that it probably hasn't been used very much. You're the one who cooks, when it's left up to the men standing around you, at the most it's usually toast or sandwiches. Oh, my God, these nerds haven't had an actual meal in three months.

You look around at them, trepidation making your voice kind of small when you ask, "Can… Can I make breakfast?"

Sam and Bobby smile a little, looking relieved. "Yes. Please," Dean says fervently.

You feel a real, good smile stretch your lips for the first time in a long, long time.

xxxxx

Her smile is like the sun coming up after months of darkness. Dean doesn't know what he did right, or what about her making breakfast for them is what she needs. But he knows that he would walk through fire for her, and he'll do this for her, too.

xxxxx

You're doing breakfast dishes and humming when a thought occurs to you.

You tilt your head to look at Dean, who's standing behind you with his arms around your waist. He hasn't let you go for more than a moment since you woke up, and it's ridiculously reassuring.

"Dean, where's Sarah?"

He presses a kiss to your cheek. "No idea."

"She said that they have other work to do," Sam says behind you. You and Dean both turn to look at him. "She didn't say when she'd be back."

You frown. "Well, should we be looking for her?"

"Cass has his cell phone," Dean says. "If they need us, I'm sure they'll call."

You turn back to doing dishes, not sure you're okay with that answer. But you're wrapped up in Dean, Winch is lying in his patch of sunlight, and you're home, so you let it go for now. Worry for your friend stays in the back of your mind, though.

xxxxx

Dean is watching, with some amusement, as Y/N desperately tries to stay awake through the movie. It's pretty clear, even outside her head, that it's a losing battle. Her pretty eyes are fluttering as she puts up a good fight, but she finally just sighs and turns to press her face into his chest. The movement, probably insignificant to her, fulfills some deep craving in him to protect her, hold her. So he wraps an arm around her and tucks her close.

They're lying on the couch, despite Y/N's protests. She wanted to get right back to work, but Dean flat-out refused. She needs to rest, even just cooking this morning seemed to take it out of her. She still hasn't told him all of what she went through, but for now, he wants her on the bench.

As he holds her close, he knows that she won't let him keep this up for long. She's strong willed, and it's a testament to how tired she is that she let him put a movie on and pull her onto the couch in the first place.

She stirs in her sleep and frowns. He looks down and smooths her hair away from her face, smiling a little. She's so pretty, he thinks in a sappy way that he will never admit to out loud.

She whimpers, and the distress that tinges the sound has the smile slipping off of his face. What the hell?

xxxxx

You run, determined to get to him in time. This can't be happening, no, no, no, please no!

You find Castiel on his back in the middle of a huge crater. You skid down the side, your breath tearing in and out of your lungs. "Cass!"

You fall to your knees next to the angel. There's blood everywhere, and there are several injuries that have bright white light shining out of them. Castiel's grace is shining through.

You notice with no small amount of horror that Castiel's grace is beginning to fade.

You take his battered, bloody face into your hands. "Cass," you whimper desperately, "Cass, oh, fuck. I'm so sorry, Cass."

You hear the gravel skitter behind you as the Winchesters catch up to you. "Cass, come on, you'll be all right," you're whispering, "I'm so fucking sorry, it'll be all right."

Dean falls to his knees next to you, effectively pushing you out of the way. You go willingly, because it's your fault that you're here. "Cass!" Dean shouts. "God dammit, Cass! You're gonna be fine! You hear me?!"

Castiel's blue eyes fall on yours as Dean pulls him into a sitting position. The angel frowns. "Why, Y/N?"

There are tears pouring down your face. "I'm so sorry." Neither of the Winchesters are even looking at you.

The light is fading from Cass. "Why are you even here? What made you think you could change anything?"

xxxxx

Oh, God, that was a new one. Oh, God…

You wake up crying, panic and terror making it hard to breathe. There are muscled arms around you, and you fight against their hold until they release you. You push yourself away, and you fall onto the floor gracelessly.

There's a loud buzzing in your ears, and breathing hurts, and you can't deal with this. You can't take anything in, you don't know where you are, and the nightmares are supposed to be over.

You feel warmth behind you, then wrapping around you. It tries to move you, and you fight against it. There's a deep rumble in your ear, but it stops trying to move you. It just resettles behind you.

You feel an arm come around your waist, anchoring you. From the other side, a big hand rests on your chest. It doesn't press down or constrict you in any way, it just stays there.

There's more rumbling in your ear, and the warmth behind you starts to shift, then shift back. It becomes a steady rhythm that your mind syncs with quickly. It takes a long time, but your breathing begins to match that rhythm, and the buzzing in your ears starts to dwindle.

You realize that a high-pitched babble is falling from your lips uncontrollably.

"-and then Cass fell and he was in a crater and I'm sorry oh God I killed Cass I didn't mean to his grace his grace is coming out and why am I here why do I think I can change anything I killed Cass and then Cass fell and he was in a crater and I'm sorry oh God I-"

"Shh, inhale with me, princess, deep inhale. Come on, you can do it, good girl. Now, breathe out, there we go, nice and slow."

It feels like forever before you're calm enough to fall silent, to just focus on Dean's breathing and soft words behind you, and your own breathing within you.

You want to be embarrassed, and you can feel how humiliated you would normally be. But it's smothered by how shaken you are, how tired you feel, and the soul-deep sadness that this isn't over.

The fluttering makes you panic just a little again, but Dean's arms ground you, as well as his breath in your ear.

Sarah is kneeling in front of you, and she reaches forward to cup your face. You lean into her cool touch, letting your eyes fall closed.

"What happened?" Her voice soothes you, a perfect complement to Dean's deep one.

He must know that speech is beyond you, because he answers for you. "She had a nightmare, then a panic attack."

Sarah's eyebrows go up and her face pales. She meets your eyes again. "Was it…"

You nod.

She winces, then looks up at Dean. "How much has Y/N told you about her time in heaven's prison?"

Dean shakes his head. "We… Haven't gotten there yet."

Sarah looks at you again. "Would you like to tell him, or do I have your permission to?"

You whimper, and she takes it as what it means. I can't.

"Michael gave Y/N nightmares. Vivid, hyper-realistic nightmares."

"Nightmares of what?"

Sam's voice has your head turning slowly, very slowly to look at him. You realize that your whole little family is here, and you want to be nervous, or embarrassed, but you can't be. You just don't have it in you. So you just lean back against Dean's broad, warm chest, and sigh a little when he tucks you against him tighter.

"She had nightmares about the three of you." Sarah says, a tinge of accusation in her voice. "The three of you dying, the three of you rejecting or blaming her."

Castiel, Sam, and Bobby have looks on their faces that you recognize well. They're so familiar that they're almost comforting. It's the "well, that's not that bad" look. It's the "she's probably just a little crazy" look. It's the "she's not worth all this trouble" look.

Sarah must sense it, because she closes her eyes for just a moment, clearly struggling to control her anger. If you had it in you to smile, you would. Your angelic friend started experiencing something akin to human emotion when she met you, and it's a little bit of a fight for her to rein them in.

She opens her green eyes and meets Dean's gaze over your shoulder. "I do believe that most of them featured you leaving her. Quoting her worst fears word for word."

Dean tenses behind you, and you know that he understands. He understands how bad it is. The looks on the other three men's faces have changed, too, to sympathy. They've all had someone they feared would leave them, and that feeling brings it home for them.

Dean takes a deep breath through his nose, then lets it out slowly. You find yourself mirroring his actions unconsciously, and the little squeeze of his arms lets you know that he notices and approves. "What do we do?" he asks in a low voice.

Sarah takes a deep breath. "It is an active attack. It's not something that he has made innate, so it can be stopped."

You look up at her hopefully, but the sorrowful look on her face has your heart plummeting into your stomach again.

"But… I don't know how to make him stop," she says gently, trying to be soft when she tells you. "I… I think we may have to kill him."

You feel your breathing become erratic again, and tears cloud your vision. Dean's murmuring, "Breathe, princess, come on, slow inhale, inhale with me, Y/N, come on, baby, you can do this," into your ear, but you can't. You just can't.

The only way to stop the nightmares is to defeat an archangel? The only way to be okay, to be as all right as you've ever been, is to kill Michael? You barely beat him the first time, and that was by borderline cheating. It's impossible. Oh, God help me, it's impossible.

You feel yourself retreat into your mind, leaving your anxiety and your inability to breathe and the fact that you're close to passing out, leaving all that behind. None of that matters if you never deal with it, does it?

Dean's words fade, but the deep timbre of his voice follows you, just rumbling through you. It's comforting, it's nice. His warmth stays, too, it soaks into you and makes you feel comforted and safe.

As you sink deeper into your thoughts, trying desperately to protect yourself, one word echoes in your thoughts.

Brilliant.

xxxxx

Hi, beautiful readers! Here are my notes:
I don't own Supernatural or any of the characters. (heartbroken)
Reviews, comments, and kudos give me life and keep me going.
And, as always, thank you for reading, you beautiful, beautiful people.
**I am SO sorry this update took so long. This was a busy week for me. I don't know if anyone cares about the particulars, but I got my first tattoo last week (yay! and ow!), and also last week, a two week old puppy came into my care. She's very healthy and doing well, but her sister came to me a few days later, and she's extremely small and sick. They require round-the-clock care, so I've been pretty out of it. But they're doing a lot better! I've got some experienced in neonatal care for pets, so I think they're gonna be fine. :) Thanks for sticking with me, beautiful readers!
**We are going more and more off-book with each chapter, lol.