Author's Note: I don't own Supernatural.

***Dean, POV***

Christmas

Christmas was a happy affair for Dean for what felt like the first time in a long time. Truthfully, he had had a decent Christmas the winter before he went to Hell, which, ironically, had been the first time since he was a child that he'd actually celebrated Christmas.

This year, for different reasons, everyone seemed to want to celebrate Christmas. Bobby wanted to celebrate it because it was the first Christmas he would be spending with his daughter. (Dean also thought that the possibility that Ember may not actually be his daughter after all made him want to celebrate it with her even more, but he would never say this aloud, even to Ember.) Ember wanted to celebrate it to cheer up Bobby, and also because she "wanted Dean and Sam to have a good Christmas for once." After Dean found out that this would include sex and money for the new car parts he had been wanting, he was more than on board with the idea. He even worked several hours for a friend of Bobby's to make honest money to buy Ember a present. He would normally have hustled pool, but he knew she would never accept anything frivolous from him that he hadn't bought with honest money. Dean was right, too. He bought her a small heart necklace made of real embers, and she was pleased. Seeing it around her neck was worth the heckling from Sam (and even a few comments from Bobby) that he had to endure for nearly a week afterward.

Ember, Sam, and Dean continued hunting, but there was no word on Lucifer. The three knew that he was out there somewhere, however, if for no other reason than Ember's life continued to be demon-free. Aside from when Bobby got stabbed, when they had fought the demons in front of Jesse, and their most recent interaction with Lucifer, no demon had dared get close to Ember.

Ember's powers finally seemed to have leveled off, too. Castiel visited once in awhile, and this was always a good opportunity to gauge how strong she had become, as he was the only worthy opponent available. She seemed to have the ability to kill and exorcise multiple demons, as well as the abilities of levitation, flying short distances, invisibility, and premonition. Castiel was certain that her premonition was limited to relating to Lucifer, however.

And so the new year started quietly.

***Dean POV***

January 26th

Near the middle of January, Bobby received a call from an old hunter friend named Martin that there was some sort of monster in the mental hospital in Ketchum, Oklahoma. Within a week, Ember had managed to set herself up as a therapist there, and Dean and Sam had managed to enter as patients. It was a standard adventure – a milk run, really, compared to their interactions with Lucifer, but Dean was glad to leave – he was beginning to think that the therapy provided there was really starting to get to Sam.

Apparently he had been right – to his horror, right after they escaped the ward, Sam seemed to decide that it was sharing and caring time. "Most of the time I can hide it," Sam told him and Ember. But they were right. I am angry." Son of a bitch, Dean thought. God he needed a drink. "I'm mad at everything!" Sam continued. "I used to be mad at you and Dad, then Lilith, now it's Lucifer. And I make excuses. I blame Ruby, or the demon blood. But it's not their fault. It's not them, it's me. It's inside me. I'm mad all the time. And I don't know why."

Dean looked at his brother, then looked at Ember. He realized Ember was looking at him. She was a therapist. Wasn't she supposed to deal with this feelings crap? Dean usually wasn't quite so irritable, but he was still wearing the blue scrubs from the ward, and he'd been in there for a week, and he wanted a cheeseburger. "Okay, stop. Stop it. So what if you are? What are you gonna do? Take a leave of absence? You gonna say yes to Lucifer? What?"

"No, of course not, I-…"

"Exactly," Dean said. "You're gonna take all that crap, and you're gonna bury it. You're gonna forget about it, because that's how we keep going."

"No," said Ember's voice at his side, "That's how you keep going. And do you know what? Maybe that's the problem."

"What?" said Dean, confused.

"Did you seriously just give him the advice to bury it? God, you two are emotionally retarded! He buries his anger in demon blood, and when he can't do that, he lets it out. You, you bury your anger in alcohol and sex and more alcohol!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean said. Ember had told him to stop drinking once in awhile, and he knew that she disapproved of how much he drank, but she'd never really put her foot down on the subject.

"Do you know why I'm not flying around smiting people right now?" Ember asked. "It's not because I've been careful about how much of my power I use… Cas is right. It's because I don't give into my anger. I do the Therapist thing, and I find healthy ways to release my anger, and I work out, and I kill things that shouldn't exist, and I have a horribly unhealthy addiction to ice cream! But I don't take it out on the people around me, I don't keep secrets about what makes me angry from the people who love me – and I'm looking at both of you on that one - and I don't drown my anger in alcohol! And I sure as hell don't bury it! You two are supposed to be god damn vessels, for Christ sake. Do you know how easy it is for the angels and the demons and every other damn thing we fight to use your anger as ammunition against you? Dean, you ought to know this, better than anyone. Don't tell me you're going to bury it, or the angels and the demons have already won!" With that, Ember slid into the passenger side of the Impala and turned "Burnin' For You" by Blue Oyster Cult up to full blast, signaling the end of the conversation.

Dean shrugged at Sam and said, "She's hot when she's angry." But the truth was that it was in that moment that Dean realized, for sure, that he loved her. (And, begrudgingly, he vowed to keep his alcohol intake down to a few drinks in the evening.)

***Ember POV***

January 28th, Day

At the end of January, Ember and the two brothers found themselves in Housatonic, Massachusetts. Sam and Dean's old babysitter, Donna, appeared to be having a poltergeist problem, and (as usual) the brothers had arrived to help. After speaking with Donna, the brothers and Ember stopped in a small burger joint for lunch.

"You know, poltergeist aside, Donna looked pretty good, don't you think?" asked Dean.

Ember rolled her eyes. "I'm right here, ya gratuitous flirt," she said.

"Dude," Sam said, "Don't tell me you've still got the hots for our babysitter."

"What? No!" Dean said, unconvincingly. "I'm just saying, you know, she's… she's doing good. You know, with her husband, and her kid. This whole Amityville thing being thrown at them, and they're still hanging tough."

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

Dean snuck a look at Ember before asking both of them, "You ever think you'd want something like that? Wife, rugrats, the whole nine?"

Sam shook his head. "No. Not really my thing anymore."

Dean looked at Ember for her answer, and she understood: the question had been brought up in a group situation, but her answer would mean more to him than that. They had been together too long for him to be saying things about family and commitment just to get in her pants, and they were honestly at about the right point in their relationship to be slowly answering these questions. It had been a smooth question, on his part, and she recognized that.

"Maybe after the apocalypse is over," she said. "I don't want to have my own kids, but… I've always wanted to settle down, you know that. I guess I always figured… maybe someday I'd find a kid who'd had to face down demons before, you know, an orphan, and sort of… acquire them."

"Huh," Dean said, and he appeared to think about this for a minute. It occurred to Ember that Dean had been smoother than she'd thought. He'd created a way for her to answer the question, and him to be able to change the subject before she could suss out his answer in a way that didn't leave her vulnerable for asking. And that was exactly what he did.

For the next couple of hours, Ember wondered if she had interpreted this conversation correctly. She thought she might have stepped over a line when she'd said her piece about Dean burying his anger the other day, but surprisingly he seemed to have taken her words to heart. He hadn't said anything, but he did seem to be limiting his drinking more than she had seen him do previously. It was a good thing, too – if his drinking had gotten any worse, his liver would last even shorter than a hunter's life already guaranteed him. And that was just sad.

Ironically, however, the conversation in the burger joint wasn't the only conversation that weekend about what Dean had always referred to as "an apple pie life." The poltergeist itself had been easy enough to take care of, but the three had also had to deal with three high school friends who had been practicing witchcraft. One of them even managed to switch bodies with Sam, but Ember saw him immediately for who he really was before any harm could be done. Still, Sam was shaken by the short time he did spend in the home (and body) of a teenager. "All that apple pie family crap? It's stressful," he told Dean and Ember on their way out of town. "I don't think we missed a damn thing."

"Or we don't know what we're missing," Dean said, and for just a moment, he caught Ember's eye in the rearview mirror.

***Dean POV***

February 14, Evening

Dean wasn't the type to be romantic, typically, but he really liked Ember. They had been dating for almost a year, and Dean knew it was well past the time when "I love you"s were normally issued. They hadn't said the three words since they'd thought they were going to die during their encounter with Lucifer, and Dean knew they really needed to be said.

Still, Dean had strongly considered never saying "I love you", if for no other reason than it wasn't his style, and also because Sam and Bobby would never let him hear the end of it. He knew Ember wouldn't fault him for it, either. He knew that she knew he loved her, even though he didn't say it. And, to top off the argument, Dean telling Ember "I love you" would be a vocalization of feelings that he felt might set a precedent in the wrong direction. He showed her he loved her, on a constant basis. He got her her favorite foods, he never expected anything of her, he'd gotten her that necklace for Christmas, and he'd even stopped drinking for her (sort of, mostly). He shouldn't have to tell her he loved her.

Just when he'd made up his mind that the "I love you" conversation could wait, Sam took the situation out of his hands. "So, you and Ember," he said. "What's up with that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know, I just thought you might be…" Sam trailed off, as though Dean was supposed to know what he was thinking.

"What?" asked Dean.

"Well, getting… I don't know, bored."

"What?" Dean asked sharply.

Sam shrugged. "I don't know, you've been dating almost a year, and… You haven't even told her you love her yet, man. Being in a relationship of convenience isn't doing either of you any favors. If you want to kick her off the hunt, she'll be safe at Bobby's. You know that, right?"

"It's not a relationship of convenience!" Dean told his brother defensively.

Sam stared at him, as if searching him for lies. "Okay, man. I just…"

"What?" Dean asked again, because Sam had trailed off again.

"Well, I know it's not like you to ever put a ring on it, but tomorrow's Valentine's Day. You've gotta have something planned."

Shit. Was tomorrow really Valentine's Day? And worse, did Ember really think that way? Was she frustrated with his lack of commitment?

Because of his discussion with Sam, Dean actually put some effort into planning the whole "Valentine's Day" thing over the following 24 hours. He knew she liked cheeseburgers better than what most girls liked to eat on Valentine's Day (this was part of the reason he loved her), so he found the classiest cheeseburger joint in the town where they were working their current case. He even found a nice place where they could go dancing, something he knew Ember wanted, though he didn't dance as a rule.

Dean had actually worked himself into an excitement on the morning of Valentine's Day, but by evening he couldn't have been less in the mood. It was strange, actually – he wasn't in the mood for anything. He didn't attempt to grope Ember like he normally would have when she showed up in a new and very revealing dress. (He suspected she'd stolen it, which normally would have made it even sexier.) He didn't even enjoy his cheeseburger at the restaurant, which he normally would've thought was phenomenal.

Ember didn't seem to be enjoying herself either, Dean thought. Twice, he saw her hand twitch, like it often did when she was bringing it up to use her full power. When he asked her what was wrong, however, she simply said, "I'm really sorry, Dean. I guess it's just been awhile since I've had a night out, and I'm a little on edge. I'll try to relax."

Between his own uninterested mood and Ember's distracted one, however, Dean was almost glad when Sam called to update him on the case they were working on. "Dean, you're going to want to see this," he said. "I know it's Valentine's Day, but I wanted to let you know because you're a couple, on a date, just like all the victims. On all four of the hearts of the victims is a letter, like the ones carved into our ribs. I think it's Enochian."

"Enochian? Are you sure?" Dean asked. "We're on our way."

February 15, Evening

The Enochian letters, as it turned out, was a red herring, a false lead. The cupid who was hooking up the couples with the Enochian letters on their hearts was doing so innocently, according to Castiel, who read his mind. So, they were back to square one.

To make matters worse, Dean and Ember had never bothered to have Valentine's Day sex, nor had Dean bothered to tell her he loved her. Dean hadn't been in the mood for sex after the cupid fiasco, and so he'd asked Ember if she wanted to take a rain check. She had readily agreed. Dean wondered if perhaps their initial "flame" as a couple was slowing to a dull fizzle, but this didn't make any sense, either. Just three days ago, when Dean had come back from being sent back in time by angels again, they'd had sex randomly in a hotel bathroom while Sam was out on a food run. Afterwards, the neighbors on the other side of the wall had apparently complained to the establishment because they'd been so loud. Two days before that, she'd given him road head while she had been invisible, with Sam asleep in the back seat. Ever since they'd been on the case with the cupid, however, Ember had seemed distracted, and Dean had simply felt numb to everything.

As the day after Valentine's Day wore on, Ember acted more and more strangely. When she wasn't paying attention, her hand would begin to twitch like it did when she was using her powers, and she would gaze off into space. "What's going on with you?" Dean asked her late in the afternoon.

"I don't know," she said. "It's weird. Ever since we've hit this town, I've just been… hormonal or something. It's like my demon side is… more potent somehow. I just want to wrap up this case so we can leave."

At that point, Sam staggered in with a suitcase. Sam had been gone all day as well, Dean noted. He had left early that morning to look at the body of a man that had killed himself by eating too many Twinkies, but it must've been hours since Sam had left the coroner's.

"What the hell took so long?" Dean asked.

"Ran into a demon," Sam said. He looked a bit drunk, Dean thought. "He got away from me. But I stole his suitcase."

Ember frowned. "Weird. If there's a demon in the area, he's definitely within attraction range. Typically they come running… this one must be really focused on something else. And that's never good." He saw, again, her hand twitch, as though it wanted to fly upward and push something against the wall, but she would not allow it.

"What the hell has a demon got to do with this, anyway?" Dean asked.

"Believe me," Sam sighed, "I've got no idea."

Dean looked closer at Sam. He was sweating, and looked paler than usual. "You okay?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam answered. "Yeah, I'll be alright."

"Let's crack her open," Dean said. "What's the worst that could happen, right?"

The suitcase, when opened, emitted a bright white light, unlike anything Sam or Dean had ever seen before.

"What the hell was that?" Dean asked, alarmed.

"It's a human soul," said Castiel, who had appeared suddenly on the bed. He was eating a cheeseburger again, which appeared to be his habit as of late. "It's starting to make sense," Castiel continued, taking a large bite.

"Now what about that makes sense?" Sam said.

"And when did you start eating?" asked Dean. He realized with alarm that Ember was looking at Castiel with an angry look on her face.

"Exactly," said Castiel. "My hunger – it's a clue, actually."

"For what?" the brothers asked at once. Ember said nothing, but simply stared at Castiel with a glare. What was wrong with her?

"This town isn't suffering from some love-gone-wrong effect," Castiel said. "It's suffering from hunger. Starvation, to be exact. Specifically, Famine."

Ember let out a long breath, and Sam said, "Famine? As in… the Horseman?"

"Great," said Dean. "That's freaking great."

"I thought famine meant starvation. Like, as in, you know, food," Sam said.

"Yes," said Castiel, "Absolutely. But not just food. I mean, everyone seems to be starving for something – sex, attention, drugs, love."

"Well, that explains the puppy lovers that cupid shot up," Dean said.

"Right," said Castiel. "The cherub made them crave love, and then Famine came, and made them rabid for it."

"Okay, but what about you?" Dean asked. "I mean, since when do angels secretly hunger for White Castle?"

"It's my vessel – Jimmy," Castiel said. "His, uh, appetite for red meat has been touched by Famine's effect."

"So Famine just rolls into town, and everybody goes crazy?" Dean asked.

"And then will come Famine riding on a black steed," Castiel quoted. "He will ride into the land of plenty, and great will be the Horseman's hunger, because he is hunger."

"So what, this whole town is just going to eat, drink, and screw itself to death?" Sam asked from inside the bathroom.

"We should stop it," said Castiel, who was working on another burger.

Suddenly, Dean heard the door shut with a slam. "Ember?" he asked, but there was no reply.

"Ember!" he said, leaping up and grabbing the keys to the Impala, which she hadn't taken. She had been acting so weirdly today, and he didn't want her running around outside until they decided what to do about Famine.

"Let her go, Dean," Castiel said, and Dean stopped.

"What the hell, Cas?" Dean said to his friend.

"Dean," said Sam, who was sitting down on the bed, looking tired and sweating more than usual. "I love Ember, I do, but… she's half-demon. What do you think she hungers for?"

Sam was right, Dean realized. It all made sense, now: the glare that had colored Ember's face all day, and the way her hand kept twitching. Still, he leapt up. "All the more reason!" he insisted. "We've got to go get her, tie her up-…"

"With what?" Castiel asked, materializing in front of the door. "There are no chains or bars that can hold her. She may be nearly as powerful as Famine himself."

"Okay,, so, Cas, you can go find her, and beam her outta here," Dean said to his friend. "You gotta beam her to, like, Montana. Anywhere but here."

"Even if I could, it won't work," Castiel said. "She's already infected. The hunger is just going to travel with her. And she barely got out of here without killing as it was. Didn't you see the look she was giving us?"

"So what, I'm just supposed to let her go?" Dean asked accusatorily.

"Stopping Famine will stop Ember's symptoms," Castiel said. "And the faster we do it, the less people will die in the meantime."

Dean was furious. He hated this. This was why he didn't get into relationships, especially relationships with half-demons. He was ashamed to think that way, because he knew Ember would be mortified if she knew, but he had to face the facts: his girlfriend was probably out killing people. He didn't want to think that if they couldn't stop Famine, it would be his job to kill her. He didn't want to think about that. He would stop Famine, and save her, for once, from herself. She was always saving them.

"That's a great idea," said Dean. "How?"

"How did you stop the last Horseman you met?" Castiel asked, still chewing.

"War got his mojo from this ring," Dean answered, grabbing it out of his jacket pocket. "And after we cut it off, he just tucked tail and ran. And everybody that was affected, it was like they woke up out of a dream. You think Famine's got a class ring too?"

"I know he does," Castiel answered, taking another bite of his burger.

"Well, okay," said Dean, growing impatient with his friend. "Let's track him down and get to chopping. I want Ember back before she goes apeshit."

"Yeah," Castiel said, looking at his empty take-out bag with disappointment and not moving.

Dean let out an impatient sigh. "Come on!" he said, looking toward the bathroom, where Sam had disappeared. "Come on Sam, what's taking so long? I'm going to leave without you!" He looked back at Castiel. "What are you, the hamburglar?"

"I've developed a taste for ground beef," said Castiel matter-of-factly.

"What, have you even tried to stop it?" Dean asked him. He yelled backward, "Sam! Let's go! What the hell are you doing in there?"

"I'm an angel," Castiel replied. "I can stop anytime I want."

"Dean," came Sam's muffled voice from inside the bathroom. "I um… I can't go."

"What do you mean?" Dean said, agitated now. What the hell was everyone playing at?

"I think it got to me, Dean," Sam said. "I think I'm hungry for it."

Dean's heart took a further nosedive. Ember and Sam?! "Hungry for what?" Dean snapped, though he already knew.

"You know," said Sam, who had the decency to look ashamed.

"Demon blood? You gotta be kidding me," Dean said angrily. "You and Ember? What the hell am I supposed to do?"

"You go cut that bastard's finger off," Sam said, panting. "But Dean… before you go, you better lock me down."