~Written by Ink~

Dean drew in a deep breath as he tried to steady and ground himself. The smell of sulfur and the sweltering and unbearable heat of the phantom flames dying down til they were nothing but memories once more. He sat on the bed a while longer before deciding that he couldn't go back to sleep. He wasn't afraid of the nightmares to come, much unlike Pippin, it was just that he was tired. The sort of exhaustion that came with being a Hunter and the burdens it came with. He stumbled down stairs and into the kitchen, vaguely surprised at the warm coffee already made before remembering that Emmy most likely hadn't actually slept. Once he had some coffee he was ready to see Emmy and stumbled tiredly into the living room of the bunker where she sat curled up on the couch.

"Morning Dean." She smiled softly; though it didn't quite reach her eyes. He observed the tear streaks on her cheeks and the special relapse tea in between her hands.

"Mornin' Little Wing." He whispered gently as he pulled her into his arms and set their drinks down on the coffee table. She shifted and curled up into his embrace while he nuzzled his face into the base of her neck and shoulder.

"Not a good night for either of us, hm?" He asked, lips brushing softly against her skin, and she chuckled emotionless for a moment.

"Your death in the book." She admitted honestly while she ran a thumb across his knuckles in support and love.

"Hell." He finally sighed and Emmy turned around on his lap before giving him a swift little kiss.

"You don't have to tell me Dean," She started honestly. "But I won't ever think of you differently if you did." Dean breathed a small sigh of relief as Emmy curled back up into his chest. They sat comfortably for a long time; the light of the rising sun slowly peeking through the drawn curtains in the bunker.

"It wasn't four months." He finally said and Emmy perked up, gazing up at him in confusion. "It was four months up here, but down there..." He trailed off and Emmy intertwined their hands in a silent show of support. She didn't dare interrupt him now that he had begun.
"I don't know. Time's different. It was more like 40 years." Dean sighed tiredly and Emmy's mouth opened slightly in shock.

"Oh my crowes, Dean." She whispered in shock, causing him to shake his head slightly.

"They, uh...They sliced and carved and tore at me in ways that you...Until there was nothing left. And then, suddenly...I would be whole again...like magic...just so they could start in all over. And Alastair...at the end of every day... every one... he would come over. And he would make me an offer. To take me off the rack... if I put souls on... if I started the torturing. And every day, I told him to stick it where the sun shines. For 30 years, I told him. But then I couldn't do it anymore, Emmy. I couldn't. And I got off that rack. God help me, I got right off it, and I started ripping them apart. I lost count of how many souls." He retold, trying to keep his composure in front of Emmy. Even after all these years it still tore at him viciously.

"The - the things that I did to them." He shook his head before Emmy cut him off softly. She kissed him again before resting her forehead against his.

"I...I can't say I know what that's like." She started, unsure but determined. "But I know what it's like to want the pain to stop, or just to want to feel nothing. And I want to make it go away I do." She admitted tearfully before Dean leaned forward and kissed her passionately. When he finally pulled away he smiled at her while rubbing up and down her arms.

"You do Little Wing." He said sincerely before Pippin stumbled into the room with her eyes closed.

"Everybody better have pants on." She grumbled and the pair immediately burst into laughter at the comment.

"Way to ruin the mood Pippi." Emmy laughed happily. Dean stared at her lovingly as the two traded snarky comments back and forth for a moment. He was going to be alright. He had Sammy and Cas, but most importantly he had Emmy.