Sam smirked as he took a bite of his salad.

After spending a lifetime as Dean's number one priority, Skylar had bumped him out of first place.

He had watched his older brother drive across the country, leaving broken hearts in his wake. Rarely did they encounter a new city where Dean didn't spend the night in some waitress or bartenders' bed.

And during all of this, he had been branded to Skylar.

Dean had never taken branding seriously when it came to commitment and being faithful. However, he always made sure that his future wife was taken care of.

Well, at least as taken care of as she could be considering Ike was her father.

Sam was beginning to feel like a third wheel more and more every day. He watched the two of them from across the table as Skylar dropped a fry smothered with cheese into his brother's mouth. They both took a bite of their artery clogging, extra bacon cheeseburgers, and continued to talk among themselves, oblivious to Sam's presence.

There was no awkwardness. Nothing was being forced. Dean's eyes shined as he watched Skylar talk about some movie coming out that was based on her favorite book series. It was clear that he could care less about the topic, but he enjoyed her enthusiasm.

He promised to take her when it was released.

Dean was an actual husband who loved his wife.

Sam never thought he would live to see the day. He never doubted Dean's intentions towards Skylar. He would marry her out of duty and obligation. He always did what he was supposed to when it came to being a hunter. Dean had followed Dad's orders, and he had followed the orders of that hideous mark all of them bore.

Skylar was a good kid growing up, though she and Dean would bicker endlessly despite their age difference.

Dean was too bossy.

Skylar was too sassy.

But for Sam, they were too much alike.

Sam had told Dean that the trips were pointless to go see her…that branding was stupid. But in all honesty, he couldn't sit in the Impala one more minute and listen to their endless duets as they sang along to Dean's ancient cassette tapes.

Her favorite song was Night Moves by Bob Seger, and the guys were pretty sure she had no idea what the lyrics even meant. But Dean would smirk and sing alongside her, creating a monster in the process.

The two of them were content together, even back then, though they hadn't been aware of that fact themselves. Often, Sam envied what they had.

He and Olivia never saw eye to eye and couldn't stand the sight of one other. How had the universe picked her as a mate for someone like himself? He was relieved when she decided to head to Louisiana. She had made the decision to run from their destiny, and Sam couldn't have been happier.

But it wasn't until this past April that Sam began to notice a difference happening between Dean and Skylar. After searching for nearly a year, and finding no way to save Dean from hell's grasp, he knew that it was time to tell her. It was the first time in a long while that Sam had tagged along to that small town in Illinois, forty-five minutes south of Chicago.

But showing up on that doorstep wasn't the kid that Sam had remembered. She was on the brink of being a young women. It took him a moment to realize he hadn't seen her since she was twelve years old and Dean was lying in a hospital bed. Sam rarely gave two thoughts about the pretty young girl that was often 'out of sight, out of mind.' But each time Dean was near death, Sam seemed to always remember.

And Dean hated it.

He would give Sam hell for bringing her around when he was at his most vulnerable and weakest. He would say that she didn't need to see him like that. For instance, several months before their brush with death when hunting the yellow eyed demon…before their father was taken and Dean's life was spared, he had been electrocuted and his heart was giving out.

'If looks could kill' was the only way to describe Dean's green eyes that day as they were rimmed with red. It was easy to see that he was on the brink of death, even through his anger. But as Skylar climbed onto the bed beside him and began flipping through the horrible day time TV channels, tears shining in her vibrant blue eyes that she refused to let fall, his brother's gaze softened as he rested his head against the pillows, his fingertips lightly stroking her dark hair.

He never said it out loud, but his actions were a way of thanking Sam for somehow getting her to him in case these were the last moments they would ever have together.

And now, with no way out of the Crossroads deal Dean had made in desperation when Sam was shot and slowly decaying, it was time to accepts fates cruelty. They told Skylar everything…that Dean was going to hell and there was no way out.

No matter how many times Dean had been on the brink of death in the past, this was too much, even for her. It was the first time she had cried. They were silent tears. Skylar didn't sob. She felt like she had to be stronger than that. But the tears fell down her cheeks against her will.

She rose from her spot on the porch swing before turning around to face Dean. Anger…fear…sadness…every emotion imaginable crossed her features that night, but all she said in a broken voice was, "you're an idiot."

And those were the last words she ever spoke to him.

Dean didn't try to go after her. Sam wasn't sure his brother knew what to say or how he should act. Should he be mad that she called him an idiot or should he try to comfort her because she was hurting and refused to show her pain?

Sam and Dean climbed back into the Impala and drove away. Dean had shed a few tears himself from the driver side the farther they got out of town, but Sam would never let his older brother know that he had seen him cry.

Both were broken, but too stubborn to admit it, even when it would be the last time they ever laid eyes on one another…or so they thought. Somewhere over the years they had fallen in love, and Sam knew it before either of them ever did.

And now, in some small diner in middle America, he watched his brother laugh with the only girl he would ever have eyes for.

There was no other option than to stop Michael and Lucifer from fighting, with or without the Winchesters as their vessels. Fate had been a cruel mistress throughout their lives. But for the first time, Dean was happy…and he deserved to be happy with the only thing he had ever truly been blessed with in this torturous existence called life.

Dean knew that he shouldn't be doing this. This was Bobby's house after all. He had been more of a father to him than John ever was, but he hadn't been with his wife since their short stay in Florida. He had only fucked her once, and once would never be enough.

Bobby already disapproved of he and Skylar sharing a room, despite being legal man and wife. He had insisted Dean take the lumpy pull out couch that was hidden underneath a pile of books and papers. He had told Bobby to mind his own business before leading Skylar upstairs to the back bedroom that was covered in dust and clutter.

After ripping the dingy sheets from the mattress and placing new ones on (they always kept a few spares because housekeeping was downright disgusting in many hotels they stayed in), Dean slid Skylar's jeans and panties mid-thigh. She was already panting for him despite the slight whimper of protest considering they weren't in the privacy of some hotel room, but upstairs in a strange bedroom with Bobby and Sam nearby.

"Climb on the bed," Dean whispered in her ear while slowly dragging the material of her t-shirt upwards, keeping his hand pressed against her flat stomach and over her covered breasts until it was discarded and tossed to the floor. Dean unfastened her pink bra with two fingers, a habit that came in handy when trying to save time. He mentally cursed himself for that little trick he had learned over the years, but luckily his wife didn't seem to notice.

"Dean…"

"The doors locked, Baby. No ones going to come in. Promise."

"But what if they know what we're doing?"

The slight panic in her voice make him chuckle. From all the times he had touched her over the past few months, her innocence was still astounding.

"I don't give a fuck if they know I can't stand one more second not being inside you."

At his seductive words, though hesitant, she began to drag her jeans downward, but Dean halted her actions, pulling them back up slightly.

"Keep them on," he growled, the lust evident in his deep voice.

"But how…?"

"I said climb on the bed."

Skylar placed her knees on the edge of the mattress slowly, giving Dean a mouthwatering view of her perfect round ass. He could feel himself straining against the fabric of his jeans as he undid the clasp and freed himself, holding his cock heavy in his palm.

He placed his hand on the back of her neck pushing her down until her cheek rested against the fresh sheets, giving him a mouthwatering view of her backside and pussy.

After rubbing himself against her entrance several time, Dean thrust himself inside her, moaning at how tight she was. Her grip was tauter than the first time. The position itself was always tighter, but Skylar was squeezing him, ridged.

"Relax, sweetheart," Dean smirked while running a hand up the smooth skin of her back. Dean grazed over the small tattoo next to her shoulder blade that he had forced her to get once they had learned about the Devil's trap from Bobby nearly four years ago. She had put up a fight about it, and he never liked the thought of her getting inked at such a young age, but precaution was necessary. It was a guaranteed way to keep a demon from controlling you.

He began to pound into her, loving the way her curves moved against his hard body. He couldn't help but take her this way after his lust had been building ever since that first night he had gotten a taste of how sweet she was. Skylar clutched the sheets as she bit her lip, trying not to cry out.

"Does that feel alright?"

"Am….amazing," she said, arching her back further to try and bring him even deeper inside her.

Dean reached his hand around and began to massage her clit. His finger slid against the small bud with ease, already wet from her own desire.

He was beginning to feel how close to the edge as a whimper escaped her lips and her body began to shake.

Dean loved the way her she shook when she came for him.

He continued to thrust into her with long strokes as they rode out her orgasm together. Grabbing both of her hips, Dean continued pounding into her, rougher than he had intended to be. But her contractions around his cock were driving him to become animalistic. He body was nearly suspended midair before he dropped her knees back on the mattress and withdrew from her warmth, emptying himself onto her back.

The moment he released his hold with the other hand, she collapsed against the mattress, her body continuing to convulse, flushed and covered in his cum.

It was prettiest sight he had ever seen.

Dean bent down to place a kiss of her bottom, smacking the area where his lips had just touched. She giggled, but continued to lay unmoving, too satiated to do anything but lie still while her body tried to come back down from their shared high.

He fastened his jeans, leaning down to retrieve a clean white t-shirt from the duffel bag at his feet. He wiped her clean while she kept her blue eyes closed, a small smile touching the corner of her lips.

Knock. Knock. Knock

"Dean!?"

"You have got to be kidding me," Dean mumbled.

"Dean!?"

"I heard you the first time, Sammy! What do you want?"

"Bobby is pitching a fit. You better get downstairs now."

"The old man waited a couple days for us to get here. Tell him to hold his balls for a few more minutes."

Quite ensued before Sam lowered his voice, yet remained audible from the other side of the door. "Bobby thinks he found something."

Skylar's head popped up for the first time, her blue eyes peaked with worry and interest. There was no way in hell Dean was going to let her go downstairs and listen to the doom that was liable to poor from Bobby's unfiltered mouth.

"I'll be right down," Dean told Sam.

Skylar began to rise, but Dean pushed her back down, placing a kiss on the side on her neck. "You stay here, Baby Girl."

"But shouldn't I…"

"Shhhh. It's nothing for you to worry about. Now be a good girl and go to sleep. It's late. I'll be back up as soon as I hear what he has to say."

Her eyes flashed for a minute at Dean's words, clearly upset that he was treating her like a child. Maybe he should let her come downstairs. Hiding the inevitable from her would do them no good and he had yet to tell her about Michael and Lucifer's plan to hijack their bodies.

But she was still in a vulnerable state, even if she continued to not voice what plagued her.

She shook her head slightly before laying back against the mattress. The hunger she felt only moments ago was now replaced with a worried crease against her brow.

Dean leaned down and kissed her sweet mouth, delving deeper as a moan rose from her.

"I'll never let anything happen to you, Baby."

"You can't promise that," Skylar answered. While her eyes were soft from his words, this life was the most dangerous job anyone could ever have. A job that they never ask for nor wanted, but was forced to undertake until each one of them would wind up dead.

No, he couldn't promise that nothing would ever happen to her.

But if she were ever taken from him, he would do everything within his power to get her back.

He would die trying because no life was worth living without her in it.