Living a normal life sounded easy – a job, a girlfriend, a kid (okay, that part hadn't sounded easy, but it wasn't like having to take on the Devil again) – but Dean wasn't prepared for what giving up his life would feel like. He went to work, maybe went out for some beers with the guys, came home, had dinner with Lisa and Ben, maybe watched a movie or played a game, went to bed, then did it all over again the next day. It was routine, it was simple, but he didn't feel like himself and he was beginning to wonder if it was possible to go insane from normalcy.

"Dean, where are you going?"

Lisa had walked into the living room to see Dean pulling on his jacket and grabbing his keys. Honestly, he didn't know where he was going, he just knew he had to go somewhere, do something.

"A bunch of us are off tomorrow, so Brian's throwing a late-night poker game." He felt bad for lying to her, but he wasn't even sure of what the truth was himself.

She frowned slightly. "Don't gamble away too much."

"Hey, don't worry, I'm awesome at poker." He took a few steps forward to give her a quick kiss on the cheek before walking out the door.

He ended up driving to a secluded spot in the country, deciding that he just needed a place to be alone. He sat on the hood of his truck and looked down from the cliff at the town below. The town that he lived in, worked in, had a life in. It was something he had thought he wanted, but now that he had spent close to a year living like this, he wasn't sure how much longer he could go on.

"Dean?"

Dean spun around, his heart pounding in his chest as he heard the surprised voice behind him. "What the hell are you doing here, Crowley?" he demanded.

The demon blinked a few times, working to conceal the surprise from his face. "I could ask you the same question."

"I live here."

"Really? Here? On this cliff? That's funny, because I come here a lot, and I've never seen you here before."

Dean was even more confused by that. "Why would you come here a lot?"

Crowley hesitated just a second before answering. "To think. It's a good place for it."

"Right…. And the place you go to think just happens to overlook he town where I live?" Dean highly doubted that that was a coincidence, and it made him uneasy.

"I'm not spying on you, if that's what you think."

"What are you doing, then?"

"I just like it here," he said defensively.

"To think? What do you even come here to think about?"

"That's personal. What have you come here to think about? Since I assume that's what you're doing here."

"Nothing."

"Well, I suppose that's not surprising." He walked over, leaning against the hood of the truck, beside Dean, glaring at the view in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Do you mind?"

"This is my spot. If anyone should leave, it's you."

"Well, I ain't leaving." No way was he giving into him.

"Fine. We'll both stay, then."

"Fine." Dean crossed his arms and turned his attention back to the view.

What the hell was he doing? He was standing out here with a demon, and a demon that he used to sleep with, at that. But at the same time, it almost felt reassuring, like he had a bit of his old life back. How twisted was that?

"So, how's the 'normal life' working out for you?" Crowley asked eventually.

"It's great," Dean answered without looking at him.

The demon hummed skeptically. "Yes, I suppose that's why you're out here."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's written all over your face, Dean. You're not happy, and you've come out here to sort things out. Maybe I can help you."

"Are you seriously trying to make a deal with me?" His head snapped towards Crowley, his expression incredulous.

"What? No! I meant I'm someone who actually knows the real you. I can help you figure things out."

"Someone who knows the real me? You don't know me, Crowley!"

Crowley looked at him, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "I know all your favorite music, movies, food. I know you hate getting up in the morning, unless it means a good breakfast – even if you are the one to cook it, because you love to cook. I know the smile you get when you're embarrassed, and exactly what to say to see it. I know that you spend your life trying to live up to everyone else's expectations of you, and you can't step back for two seconds to see how amazing you truly are. I know what you look like when you're happy, and I know the look in your eyes right now, and it's not happiness."

Dean was speechless. He tried not to think about just how close he and Crowley had been before he learned who he really was. At the very least, he tried to pretend it was just sex. But it hadn't been, and Crowley's words served to remind him of that.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, just wanting to change the subject. "Why are you up here, Crowley?"

"Honestly? Because I want to be close to you, and this is as close as I can get."

Dean felt a strange combination of emotions, suddenly remembering just how genuine the demon had sounded the last time they had spoken. Could he be telling the truth about his feelings? Surely not, but… it was starting to get hard to argue.

"What do you think about?" His tone was softer now, more sincere.

"Ah-ah, Dean. It's your turn to answer questions. What's bothering you?"

"Right now, you," he muttered, but there was no venom in his words. He glanced at the demon and sighed. "I don't even know. I have a great life, but… every time I get two seconds to myself, all I can think of is my old life. And it's not just missing Sam, it's everything. I feel too stationary, trapped. I've always wanted a home, but now I feel like I have to keep moving."

Crowley waited a second after Dean finished, making sure he didn't have anything else to add, before speaking. "This isn't your life, Dean. You're playing house, and it's not really you. There's nothing wrong with admitting that. You need to move on."

"Yeah, but this is the way things have to be. And I think it'll get better with time, but instead I just feel more suffocated every day."

"Why is it the way things have to be? You fought for free will, didn't you? Walk away."

"I promised Sam…"

"Yes, and I'm sure he thought that you would live happily ever after and find that this has always been the life you were supposed to live. But he was wrong."

Dean shook his head. "I have to make it work."

"No, you don't!" He turned to face Dean more fully. "Sam would want you to be happy."

"I just… can we talk about something else?" Dean really didn't know what to do. Crowley made some good points – great points, actually, points he couldn't argue with, but he couldn't break the last promise he had made to Sam before he had died. And Lisa was a great woman, and Ben really was like a son to him. There was no reason why he couldn't make it work.

Crowley sighed, nodding his head. They were both silent for a few moments before he spoke up again. "So, I see you traded in cars… trade in for a better taste in music, while you were at it?" He looked over at Dean with a smirk.

Dean threw his keys at him, making him laugh. "You're giving me your truck? Thanks, but I won't be caught dead driving that."

"You know, I could arrange that – your death, not you driving the truck."

"Nah, I bet you're rusty."

"I could still take you."

"Whatever helps you sleep, love."

They stayed out there for several hours talking about anything that popped into their minds. Dean didn't want to admit it, but it was nice. Actually, it was the best he'd felt in several months. He looked at his watch and cringed when he saw that it was one in the morning.

"Damn… I need to get home, Lisa will be worried."

Crowley looked down, but not before Dean caught the hurt look in his eyes. "You're going back, then?"

"I have to."

"You really don't."

"For me, I do."

He climbed into his truck and started it as Crowley moved to stand to the side. Dean rolled down his window, sticking his head out slightly. "You never did tell me what you came out here to think about."

Crowley gave a small smile. "Maybe next time."

Dean nodded, knowing full well that neither of them expected there to be a next time. "See ya, Crowley."

Dean drove away, feeling almost like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He knew talking to a demon for hours shouldn't make him feel like that, but it had been like getting a piece of his old life back. It had been what he needed. He just hoped this feeling would last.