I do not own Supernatural or related creations made by the SP Crew.

I would define the rest of my day as, in a word, awkward.

First, I had to ask my new host to borrow a pair of pants, a belt, shoes, and a car. He didn't actually let me borrow the car, but he did give me a ride into town.

I could get money as long as I had access to a smartphone. Fortunately, Bobby had quite the selection. A few emails later and I was ready to pick up a bank card from the bank.

It was not shocking to me that Bobby did not want me out of his sight, maybe the idea of Cass dating in general was just a little too unbelievable. He came with me to the bank, to buy new clothes, for lunch, pretty sure he debated following me into the bathroom.

I closed the stall door and closed my eyes. "Cass, I know you are super busy, but you should know to protect your secrets I had to tell your friend that we are dating. So try to find time to pop in around witnesses and act doting….amen?"

I shrugged and turned around to flush the toilet in case anyone was loitering outside the bathroom door. When I turned back Castiel was in the stall with me, looking annoyed.

I gulped, "Wow, Cass, buddy. I thought you were super busy…." His frown deepened.

I opened my mouth to explain when the door thudded open. I heard Bobby marching to the stall door, "I knew you were up to something, like I would believe that Cass…" As he touched the stall door I practically threw Castiel on to the closed toilet seat jumping on his lap facing him and trying my best to mess up his hair.

The door swung open and whatever Bobby was set to accuse me of died on his lips.

He stood there standing dumbly for a minute, before stating in disbelief, "You were tellin the truth?!"

Cass sighed heavily, "Yes, She is my…..woman."

I frowned then crossed my arms while still sitting on Cass's lap, "The correct term is girlfriend, it's good you are cute."

Bobby seemed to be trying to figure out how to make his mouth work.

I decided to take pity on him and stood up and gently pushed him out of my path. Before walking over to the sink to wash my hands. In the mirror I noticed Castiel stand up and move next to Bobby. "I am not surprised you didn't believe me. However, since Castiel is here."

I dried my hands with some paper towels and turned to face them. "Can you tell me why you dropped me with Bobby here?"

Castiel didn't hesitate, "He can keep you safe. You are still damaged."

I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose, "Did you consider that it would be polite to ask first?"

Castiel once again answered immediately, "No"

Bobby and I stared at him in mild disbelief. Finally he seemed to pick up on what I was saying…sort of.

He turned fully to Bobby and said, "Please keep my woman safe and don't tell anyone about this." then disappeared, leaving me yelling in a women's bathroom.

"Girlfriend, the term is Girlfriend!"

Bobby was silent the whole way back to his place, but was gracious enough to help me carry in my shopping. He pointed to a hallway, "The boys usually stay in that bedroom. It's yours until…..your boyfriend…comes back to get you."

I tried to ignore the tone in his voice, "Boys? You have sons?"

I walked down the hallway, but heard the gruff reply behind me, "Close enough. Through that door."

Whatever reply I had fell out of my head when the door swung open. It was a mess and smelled of what could only be described as the smell of Dude.

I put my bags in the hallway just outside the door. "You can put those down. This room needs to be cleaned before any of my stuff goes in here." I ignored Bobby's obvious discomfort as I took off my nice new shirt and dug through my bags for a cheap t-shirt. "Are they college kids or just slobs?" Pulling on the t-shirt, I bent down to fish a hair tie from somewhere in my bags.

Standing back up, I tied my hair up in a bun, "I'm going to need all of your cleaning supplies, laundry baskets, and energy drinks as quickly as you can. Hurry and I will clean the rest of the house too."

I didn't wait for a response before I started gathering trash into a random bag. I am not sure why I decided to get hyper focused on cleaning, but I did. It was nice, the harder I worked the less I had to think about Castiel pretending to be my boyfriend. As I tackled the dishes, I didn't worry about the toll the past year took on me. As I mopped, I didn't worry about lying to people I liked. As I did laundry, I didn't have to think about that the closest thing to a friend I had gleefully tortured me nearly to death. As I dusted shelves, I didn't have to think about how sad it was that the King of Hell had been the closest friend I knew in years. As I tried to order books, I realized that Castiel was right, I was still damaged.

I wiped blood from a book cover absently before realizing that it was blood and it was mine. I had been running off of very little sleep, on a crusade to clean Bobby's home for days. Apparently the man recognized the signs of emotionally driven activity because he tended to steer clear. Now, he had gone to get dinner and I was bleeding from my nose pretty heavily. I staggered in the direction of the wall of phones while noticing that I could taste blood too.

I didn't make it and as I passed out, I wondered briefly, just how badly damaged I actually was.

When I opened my eyes I was staring at the ceiling of my temporary bedroom. Everything hurt and even though I really tried, I couldn't really move much. I heard the door open and tried to move my head to look. Instead I was hit with a wave of dizziness.

"Don't move much, you lost a lot of blood." It was Bobby's voice. "I found you passed out last night. The angel mentioned you were damaged, but not how."

I was still staring at the ceiling and couldn't see his face, but I was sure he was studying mine. "I am not sure how it works but something with some kind of power damaged my body on the cellular level. At least that is what Castiel told me." He had said that using demonic abilities was damaging me in that way, once Crowley had heard that he had begun research on it as a method of torture, I guess he figured it out.

"From what I understand without an angel healing me completely, I need to try to take it easy or my body tries to break down. Guess I overdid it on the cleaning." I heard a loud snort, followed by the sound of Bobby's moving things around.

Suddenly, he helped me lean forward and placed some pillows behind me. "Cass asked me to take care of you and I let you work yourself sick." He sat in a chair that he must have set up while I was unconscious. "Overdid it? I don't think this place has been this clean since…" He trailed off then.

I was able to see his face now that I was in a somewhat upright position and I recognized the look that passed across his face, grief. He continued speaking anyway, "It's been a while. I thought Castiel healed you."

I instinctively tried to shrug but couldn't, "He did….as well as he could. I thought I had died but apparently he got to me in time to save me. I guess there was too much damage even for him to fix."

There was an awkward silence while Bobby seemed to process what I had said. He really seemed to be trying to take care of me. He set up my pillows and seemed to have stayed up to watch over me. "Riley."

He narrowed his eyes slightly at me, "What?" I sighed, "My name is Riley. It was rude not to tell you when you let me stay here. Thank you by the way."

He sat back in his chair, "Nice to meet you Riley."

Bobby took his role as caretaker quite seriously, I was pretty much on bed rest. He barely let up to go pee, then again if I moved too quickly or too much I would start leaking blood again.

We had tried to call for Castiel but he was not responding to us at all. Honestly, it was a bit concerning.

Bobby could tell that I was worried, he kept bringing me snacks, water, and books.

As he brought in another book, he asked, "Would it be easier if I wheeled the whole shelf in here?" As I was reading through the introduction of the book, I had almost tuned him out, "uh huh, sounds great." He snorted at me.

I glanced up at him, "Wait, what?" He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair that I had not even noticed he sat in. "Just how fast do you read? You have been stuck in bed for a couple of days and have read nearly a dozen books."

I shut the book, setting it on my lap and leaning back against my pillows, "I don't know, I have always been like this. My parents used to tell me that I didn't read books, I absorbed them. In hindsight, it should not have surprised anyone that I ended up in library work."

He raised an eyebrow, "Were people surprised? You seem like a book worm to me."

I chuckled a little, "People we're surprised I didn't die in a gutter somewhere. I believe most thought of me as a magnet for chaos and terrible luck. At least one of my grandmothers firmly believed I was cursed to ruin anything and everyone around me."

I paused, temporarily stunned at how much I had absently shared and when I looked at Bobby there was a look on his face that I couldn't identify. "You know, I feel kinda worn out. I think I will try to take a nap."

He kept a look on his face that told me he was thinking hard about something, but he graciously allowed me to pretend to nap.

I tried to stay awake, briefly I wondered how Crowley had explained my absence to anyone who noticed. I wondered if hunters were concerned about their cookie supplier.

I fell asleep despite myself and dreamed of things I wish remained forgotten.

It was the first big fight I had had with my husband. He was insisting that I could not have friends who were men. That they wanted to sleep with me and because I didn't want to cut ties with people I had known for years, I must want to sleep with them too.

I wasn't quite sure when I had stopped being angry about the insults to my friends and myself. Somehow I was now desperately trying to convince my new husband that he was the only one for me. Desperately fighting a feeling of guilt that I was trying to find a cause to; had I hurt his feelings, did I neglect him?

I tried once more to tell him that I wasn't interested in sleeping with anyone else, I swore it to him. He yelled at me to prove it, call right now and end these problem friendships. I yelled back no. He called me a whore.

I had always had a problem with my temper. Over time, growing up I had learned to reign it in a bit, take deep breaths, even how to walk away. Sometimes though, I just snapped. Something about that word always caused me to flip my lid and this time it was no different. I slapped him. That was an action I would come to deeply regret.

There was a tension filled silence as we both processed what had just happened. I looked at the man I married and didn't recognize him. He was so sweet, caring, and thoughtful when we were dating. He made me feel safer than I had felt in years. I looked at him and I felt like I finally found the home I had longed for my entire life.

Looking at him now, I didn't see affection or kindness. I didn't look at him and feel safe, right now, I was terrified. I looked at his stunned face and behind the surprise and the slightly reddened cheek, I saw flat out wrath.

The moment seemed to last forever before suddenly I was on the ground, my rage filled, husband on top of me returning the slap with interest. He stopped, suddenly and for a brief moment he seemed genuinely apologetic. Then everything got so much worse.

I closed my eyes and began to fight with everything I had. When my arms were pinned down I just started sobbing. It was only when nothing else happened to me that I realized that I was awake.

It suddenly struck me that someone was still pinning my arms down and holding me still, but they weren't doing anything else. It was only when my sobbing slowed that I felt their arms loosen.

I scurried away as soon as I was able and fell onto the floor in a tangle of limbs and blanket. The thud against the floor was enough to jolt me back into reality, realizing where I was and who I was with. I was still crying and I was sure nothing I could do would make it stop.

I looked at my bed and a disheveled Bobby sat there sporting a busted lip and a look I did not expect. I had expected pity or sympathy. A look of understanding was a surprising thing to see.

I stumbled to my feet, the last of my nightmare induced grogginess fading away and said, "I won't be sleeping tonight. I think I will go drink myself stupid."

I didn't wait to see what he would do. I just went to the kitchen and grabbed a tall bottle of whiskey, not even bothering with a glass. I sat there for a minute just staring at the bottle and jumped in surprise when I heard the clink of glasses hitting the table.

I looked up to see Bobby sitting down, smoothly grabbing the bottle and pouring the glasses as he took his seat. "Want to talk about it?"

I shook my head downing my whiskey and motioned for more, "Not drunk enough yet."

He sat there sipping his whiskey at a steady pace, watching me slowly drink myself into a stupor. "You ready to talk yet."

I leaned back in my chair, "No" then leaned forward to put my weight on the table, "People are awful, terrible monsters. I much prefer the monsters that are upfront about wanting to kill you."

He said nothing, just stared at me as I started to babble, "Demons, Vampires, werewolves. Rather deal with them any day. Better than a human with a smile and a knife behind their back. If I die, it will be because a human killed me."

He frowned as he watched me try to pour another drink and miss twice before I just started drinking from the bottle. Slowly he reached over and took it from me, "You might kill yourself before then."

I stared at him in confusion for a moment before shrugging, "Ima human, still counts." I reached for the bottle and he slid it away from me.

"I think you've had enough for now." He looked like he wasn't used to saying words like that, but continued anyway. "You should go back to sleep."

I briefly remembered my nightmare and shuddered, sobering up a bit, "No!" It came out too loud, too sharp, too afraid. I shook my head a bit, "I will just clean or something." Then I remembered that I was still supposed to be resting.

Bobby checked something behind me, then sighed, "It's been awhile, but I think I remember how to make pancakes. I think you got the stuff I need." He was right, even in my drunken haze I still recalled complaining about how I had no idea how he survived on his own with no discernable supplies to cook with.

I had given him a list and he had eased up on insisting that I stay in bed resting all the time. Honestly, I think he was relieved to have me up, about and doing things, but still insisted that I take it easy. It was sweet in a way.

I just sat there quietly watching Bobby make pancakes, trying not to think, when he placed a cup of coffee in front of me.

I hated coffee, too bitter. I drank it anyway. Next was a plate of the most strangely shaped pancakes I had ever seen. Bobby looked oddly nervous, "I don't cook much."

I took a bite and swallowed. It actually was pretty tasty, unfortunately that was the moment my body decided that I had drunk too much.

I looked Bobby in the eye and said, "This is not a reflection on your pancakes." Then ran to the bathroom and threw up. Distantly I heard Bobby say, "Balls."