Author's Chapter Notes:

Okay guys hope this gets it done for you ;)

"Just go pick her up, Dean. Bobby and I can handle Greg," Sam assured his brother.

"What're you gonna do? I mean we can't have the cops crawling all over Sara and if he just up and disappears..."

Sam and Bobby exchanged a long glance, they'd both agreed that no matter what, Sara's name would stay out of the whole fiasco. Now if only they could figure out how.

"Go, Dean. Bring her home, by the time you get back, Greg'll be gone," Bobby's gruff voice gave weight to his words.

At last, a bit of the tension that had gripped Dean for the last day seemed to ease. Sam had never seen his brother so wound up, if he had to hazard a guess he'd bet that Dean was scared to face Sara one on one now that she was feeling somewhat better. With a nod, Dean agreed at last, "Yeah, I'm going, just call if you-"

"Need anything," Sam and Bobby replied in unison.

"Jeez, kid, you act as if this is my first body. Now, go, get yourself gone," Bobby snapped, ushering Dean toward the garage.

It was only after they heard the door shut that Bobby turned to face Sam. "This is gonna be a bitch," the grizzled hunter said as he ran a hand across his bearded chin. "Everyone in town knows that Sara was dating him."

This time it was Sam that snapped, "She wasn't dating him. He just came here a lot," Sam finished lamely.

"Oh, excuse friggin' me," Bobby growled as he headed for the french doors.

Sam stared after his long-time friend with a half-grin. Leave it to Bobby to make him feel like an ass. The older man excelled at putting Sam and his brother in their places. Sometimes Sam got the feeling that the older hunter still thought of him and Dean as kids, just tagging along at his side.

"You planning on coming anytime today, or should we just wait until the corpse is ripe enough to draw the neighbors," came Bobby's yell from outside.

With a start, Sam hurried out the door and quickly caught up to the older man. "So, we're okay with Brian, we can have Sara report him missing."

Bobby nodded as he approached the shed where Greg had been killed. "Yeah, no one will think anything of it if you call the cops and report that he hasn't been answering his cell. Before you know it they'll send an officer to the shop."

Sam nodded as he produced the key to the lock on the door. In moments, he was pushing it open and ushering Bobby through.

"Should be fine, unless you two nitwits left evidence that you were there," Bobby said as he slipped past Sam and into the dark interior.

As Sam walked into the dim light of the shed, Bobby was there waiting for him to lead the way. Without hesitation, Sam headed for the far corner of the room. He was halfway there when he realized something was missing. "Do you smell something?" he questioned Bobby.

Bobby sniffed and then replied, "Not a thing."

Sam nodded in agreement, "I know, but Greg's been dead for over a week now. Shouldn't we smell something?" as he pointed toward where Greg's body had once rested.

With a grunt of agreement, Bobby glanced toward the spot that Sam indicated and let loose a low curse. There in a perfect ring, was a circle of mushrooms.

The body was gone, and other than that perfect ring, there was nothing to indicate it had ever laid there. "Shit," Sam said as he scanned the rest of the room looking for some sign of what had happened.

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Bobby poured himself yet another coffee as he paced the confines of Sara's kitchen. "Damnit, Sam, you find anything yet?" he called as he gulped down the steaming brew.

"Here. You were right" Sam said as he tossed a sheaf of papers onto the table and headed straight toward the coffee pot. With a grimace, the younger hunter stared at the sludge in the pot for a moment before pouring himself a cup. "It all makes perfect sense now. It's why Greg checked out when Sara looked into his background. This thing was just using him to get to her, the poor bastard had nothing to do with it."

"You got through to Greg?" Bobby asked as he sipped his coffee.

"Yeah, he's fine and dandy. Seemed a little confused as to why I'd be calling him, but he's fine. He mentioned that he'd be stopping by as soon as things quieted down at work."

"Well, maybe that'll give your brother a well-deserved kick in the ass," Bobby replied as he pushed around the papers Sam had found in Sara's office. "The kid did a thorough job didn't she?"

Sam nodded and pointed toward the paper. "Better believe it, she pulled tax information, questioned past employees, hell, I found one letter from some guy Greg knew in college."

Bobby quirked an eyebrow and said, "Kinda makes you wonder what she found on all of us."

Sam let loose a snort and leaned back against the counter top. "Yeah, I can imagine. Anyway the point is, we didn't find Greg in that shed. It was all just a set up by the fairy. A glamour created to make us think Greg was dead. Damn thing expected us to go running to her with what we found. It would have weakened her even farther and she probably wouldn't have been able to hold it off for as long as she did."

"Instead, you boys kept it to yourself. Must have pissed the damn thing off to all hell and back," Bobby said gruffly as he again bent to study the paperwork. "Are these his dental records?"

With a choked laugh, Sam nodded. "Yeah, god knows she probably had him bite something and then compared the marks."

Bobby eased into a chair and leaned back, as he tipped his hat back he couldn't help but share a grin with Sam. "Guess next time she assures us she 'checked up' on someone we ought to believe her."

"Yeah, well I'm taking credit cause I taught her everything she knows about research," Sam said smugly.

"Is that right, Mr. Smarty-pants? Well then, maybe next time you're dealing with a fairy you'll remember that they can affect their surroundings, create glamours, that kinda thing." Satisfied to see a blush ting Sam's cheeks, Bobby relented, "You boys did good. You saved her before the Anchanchu could inhabit her body and you saved the big guy."

"Yeah, well I just wish we would have figured it out sooner."

Bobby stood and walked to the sink. Carefully he rinsed out the mug he was holding and set it to the side of the sink. With a sad smile the older hunter turned to Sam and said, "That's always the way, kid. Come on, let me buy you breakfast. Sara and Dean'll be here soon and I'm thinking we'd do well to clear out for a bit."

"Sounds good to me, I don't think Sara's gonna be much of a model patient," Sam said as he ducked past Bobby, already heading for the garage.

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Sara sat by the window, the early morning light shut out by the industrial blinds that covered the glass. Six days she'd been cooped up in this room, for four of them she'd been largely unconscious. However, it had taken only two days awake for her to become sick to death of the dingy grey walls of the sparse room.

Then finally, late last night she'd managed to corner her doctor without a Winchester or Bobby present and she'd browbeaten the man into releasing her. When Dean had finally returned, he'd stomped and huffed and declared her unfit to go, but she'd remained firm. She needed to get home and she needed to go now.

The longer she stayed cooped up in the hospital the harder it became to distance herself from the elder Winchester. Distance from Dean was something she would have never thought she'd need, however, six days of his hovering, his unthinking touches as he caressed a wayward hair from her cheek or smoothed her hand in comfort was quickly undoing her.

The way she was headed now, she was liable to throw herself at his feet begging and pleading him to stay when he finally declared her fit enough for him to leave. It wouldn't do for him to feel guilty over going.. He'd done enough for her already and she wouldn't willingly be beholden to him anymore.

If it hadn't been for him and Sam she would have lost not only her life, which at the moment held little appeal anyway, but also the lives of her children, as the fairy creature would have surely gone for them next. Her life might be forfeit anyway, but the lives of her children? Those she would have walked through the fires of hell for.

So here she sat, fully dressed in the sweatpants and t-shirt that Sam had dropped off last night, waiting. Waiting to see just who it would be that came through the door to take her home at last. Though Dean had finally, with bad grace and a lot of cursing, agreed to pick her up, Sara still wouldn't allow herself to believe that it would be him. She couldn't come to expect him, to count on him. He'd made it clear over six months ago that while he thought of her and her family fondly, there was little else holding him here.

Sara would be damned before she'd allow him to see her pining away for him. He'd seen too much already, she needed to shore up her defenses and to keep her focus on her family. Her family was now her only reason for living. It would be enough she would make it enough.

The soft sound of the door opening had Sara turning away from the window. With her very last hope dashed, she spied Dean easing his way into the room. It was evident in his body language that he hoped for one last-ditch effort into talking her into staying. Sara shifted slightly, biting back a groan as her abused back came in contact with the chair, and firmly grasped the handles of the wheel chair she sat in.

Giving him no chance to speak she turned the chair and aimed it toward the door he'd left open. Freedom lay just outside the hallway, so Sara made a break for it. The chair though heavier than she'd expected rolled right toward the door. Certain that she would make it, Sara pushed faster, her back screaming in pain from the workout.

She'd just nosed her way into the corridor when there was a jerk and she was brought to a sudden and complete halt. With a low curse, Sara, gave one last half-hearted push of the handgrips. Unsurprisingly she budged not an inch. "Let me go, Dean. I can manage to get myself to the elevator," Sara snapped going on the defensive.

Dean gave a low growl and jerked the chair slightly backward. "What you'll do is sit right here until I talk to the nurse."

She was trapped she knew it. Half-tempted to try standing up and walking out, Sara acknowledged that she didn't have the strength to make it more than a foot or two away without collapsing. Unless... "Nurse Kulp's at the station. Ask away, I'll wait right here."

Dean stepped away, his destination clearly the nurse's station and Sara lunged forward, putting as much force behind the roll as possible. She didn't move an inch.

"Just how dumb do you think I am," Dean snapped as he shook the chair lightly showing Sara that he'd never actually let go. "I think I'll just signal her from her."

Well and truly caught, Sara slumped as low in her chair as she was able, and began plotting all the ways she would get even with the younger hunter. His low chuckle in the face of her ire did nothing but piss her off even more.

"Buck up, darlin, I said I'd take you home and I will. I just wanna make sure you're good to go," Dean said as he caught the nurse's attention.

Childish or not Sara refused to answer. Instead, she latched onto the idea that freedom lay at home. There he'd be forced to keep his distance. Surrounded by the noise of her kids and family she'd be able to hide her emotions better.

It wasn't going to be easy. If anything these last few days she'd fallen even more in love with the handsome, green eyed hunter. How could she not when every time she had awoken in pain, confusion marring her thoughts, he'd been there. With a soft touch, encouraging words and his solid presence, he'd spent more time by her side than anyone else. How could she shore up her defenses when all she really wanted was to melt in his arms?

"Nurse Kulp said you forgot these," Dean said as he interrupted Sara's musings.

Even before she glanced over her shoulder, Sara knew what she would see. There stood Dean with a huge floral arrangement. Truth be told, she had purposely tried to leave the flowers behind. Full of somber colored blooms and a dark winding ribbon, the arrangement was obviously more suitable for a funeral than a get-well bouquet.

Both arms wrapped around the behemoth arrangement, his eyes sparkling with mirth and a lazy grin spread across his face, Dean asked, "Didn't Judy get the word that you'd survived?"

Unable to help herself, Sara burst out in laughter for what felt like the first time in forever.

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A bolt of heat shot through Dean at the sight of Sara turning breathless from laughter.

"I guess she was hoping I'd take a turn for the worse," Sara gasped, her face alight with humor.

Dean found himself suddenly at a loss for words. So much of their relationship had been spent laughing. How often had they laid in bed, spent from making love, holding each other close while laughing at the day's events?

Sara was a woman meant to laugh. The tiny lines at the corner of her eyes, the ones she so often derided when complaining of her age, were a testament of her joy. They were proof of just how much of her life was spent smiling despite what fate had thrown at her. Few could resist the lure of Sara at her most relaxed, and laughing, she had the ability to light up a room with her sparkling eyes and wide grin.

Dean couldn't help but smile even more when he glanced down at the flowers in his arms. Well, he amended to himself, most people couldn't resist. Sara's mother-in-law, obviously had no such problem.

At Sara's sudden silence Dean glanced back to see her gaze pinned firmly on him as she leaned slightly toward him. Her cheeks were flushed with color and her eyes seemed to have grown huge. Dean felt every muscle in his body tense at the heat he could read in her gaze.

As her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, he found himself leaning forward, flowers forgotten, hospital forgotten, hell, he was fairly certain he no longer knew his own name. Then her lips parted as if she wanted to say something and he had the sudden notion that whatever she said next would make him abandon his noble ideas forever. Instead of leaving her, he would pull her into his arms and stay lost forever, his life as a hunter forgotten.

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Sara wanted to blame the dizziness she was experiencing on her lack of breath. After all, this was the first true laugh she'd had in longer than she cared to admit. However, she was fairly certain it had more to do with the full fledged smile he was sending her than any physical reason. Sometimes she really wondered what god was thinking when he had made Dean. Every inch of the man, from the way his eyes crinkled to the soft line of his lips, was made to steal the breath from a woman.

Watching as the heat built in his gaze, as his stare became half-lidded and sexy as hell, Sara found herself suddenly ready to fling aside every last bit of pride she had and to beg, no, plead that he stay with her forever. He was everything she'd ever and would ever want and as she watched she became certain that if only she had the right words she could hold tight to him forever.

As her fears battled her wants, fear finally won out, causing her to pull back, to blink away the moment. With a voice more husky than she would have wished, Sara said, "Alright, Winchester, let's get me the hell out of here. You can dump those things in the nearest trash bin."

Sara saw the moment reality slapped Dean back down, and the pain on his features made her certain she'd done the right thing. The hunter didn't want to be encumbered by her and her family. He needed to be free, anything else would never work for him.

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"I can make it up the stairs myself," Sara grumbled as Dean swung her up and out of the car.

"No way are you gonna risk falling. I'm carrying you up and that's final," Dean snapped, a rampant case of frustration making his words sound harsher then he had intended.

Sara let out a squeal as he swung her out of the Impala and into his arms faster than she'd expected. He clenched his teeth as Sara's body made contact with his own.

"Put me down," Sara said her voice full of desperation. Dean held back his grin, hoping that the widow was feeling every bit as unsatisfied as he was. It served her right, he thought, after all, she was the one that refused to admit she wanted him. She's the one that had shut down back at the hospital. If it were left up to him, he would be sweeping her up the stairs right now to make thorough love to her not to tuck her into bed and leave her.

Convinced that it would most likely be the last time he ever held her, Dean tightened his grip despite his discomfort and held on for all he was worth. If this was the last contact he'd ever have with her, he was sure as hell going to get his money's worth. Breathing deeply as he walked down the sidewalk toward the front door, he couldn't help but relish the unique scent that was all Sara.

"Stop sniffing me," she ground out through clenched teeth as she shifted in his arms.

Flashing the widow a toothy grin, Dean growled in her ear, "You're doin' an awful lot of squirming you got an itch somewhere."

For one moment, Dean thought he'd killed her. One minute she was stiff in his arms, trying to fight the hold he had and the next she seemed to turn boneless. Her breath wafted out on a sigh and her eyes half-closed.

This time, despite what his body was crying out for, it was Dean that came to his senses. One last romp with Sara wasn't going to slake his thirst for her. In fact, from previous experience he was certain it would only make his need worse. He had made a decision based on what was best for her. Loving her, then leaving her would only hurt her more in the long run.

In need of a distraction, Dean began moving again and said, "The kids are still at your parents, they're gonna stay there one more night."

At the mention of her children, Sara blushed and grew stiff once more. Feeling the steel slip back down Sara's spine, Dean knew he'd struck the right chord. Mentioning her kids was the equivalent of throwing a bucket of water over her.

"That's fine, where're Sam and Bobby?"

This time Dean's unease had nothing to do with his quickly cooling ardor. "They're taking care of a few things. They'll be home soon." As he stepped up to the front door, he juggled Sara just a bit in order to open the door one handed. At the entrance, he moved toward stairs, hoping against hope that Sara would let the subject drop.

He had no urge to explain to Sara that Sam and Bobby were trying to figure out how the hell to clean up the mess the Anchanchu had left behind. Dean still wasn't sure just how much Sara knew in regard to Greg and Brian and he had no interest in hitting her with the details just now.

"Not upstairs, I need to see Jack," Sara said, struggling once more.

"He's probably asleep, Sara, why don't you get some rest and-"

"No, now, I mean it, Dean. I need to see him now."

Despite the fact that Sara was most likely already exhausted, Dean knew that he'd never keep her in bed if he didn't give in. Better to allow her to spend some time fawning over her dog, then to spend the rest of the day thwarting her escape attempts. He only hoped the shock of just how badly Jack was hurt wasn't too bad. Ever since waking up she'd demanded daily updates on Jack's condition, how her children were fairing, and the state of her house.

As Dean carried her through the living room, heading for his and Sam's bedroom where he'd installed Jack just yesterday he was happy to see that this part of the house at least was back to normal. Or, as normal as it could be seeing as every window had needed replacing.

In the six days since the Anchanchu had been destroyed, Sara's father had hired a slew of workman to get the place cleaned up and back to normal. Though all the glass had been disposed of there were still windows that were waiting to be replaced. All non-necessary windows, the ones in the garage, the office, the basement, and the attic, were still boarded up with sheets of plywood.

"The place looks okay," Sara whispered.

There was little doubt in Dean's mind that she'd been fearing the worse. "There're still a few windows to be replaced, but all in all the house is back to normal."

"And Jack," Sara asked, her voice catching on the dog's name.

Dean shouldered open the door to his bedroom, his gaze drifting toward the blanket he'd put down for Jack to rest on. Sound asleep, the dog remained so even when they entered the room. Dean carefully eased Sara to stand just in front of the animal.

Though she would deny it, Dean knew that Sara had little strength left. Not wanting to start another in an endless line of arguments, he simply kept hold of her arm and helped her to the floor.

He wasn't sure if her gasp signaled pain from the movement or if it was out of pity for Jack, but Dean was taking no chances. He folded himself to the floor behind Sara and eased up behind her. As she leaned back into his chest with a heartbreaking sigh he found himself glad he had.

With one shaking hand, she reached out and carefully stroked Jack's soft, silky ear. "God, he looks so..."

"Beaten. Yeah, I know," Dean supplied. "But, he's staying awake more and more and the doctor feels that he should be able to use his leg again. He's going to be fine, Sara, he just needs time."

Sara reached out with her other hand and began petting the dog in earnest, speaking softly to him she cajoled him out of sleep. "Hey, there, baby. Ah, my brave, brave, boy."

As he watched the tears roll down Sara's cheek, Dean found himself gathering her more tightly against his chest. He knew that he couldn't undo what had been done to either Sara or Jack, all he could do is be thankful that they'd both survived.

Jack, responding to Sara's voice, opened his eyes and gave a low whine. Dean and Sam had taken the time to brush out what was left of his fur and to clean him up as best they could but the poor dog still looked like road kill.

"God, Dean, look at him," Sara whimpered as she bent down to lay a kiss on his forehead.

"He's going to be okay, Sara, and he did good. He's the one that led us to you. Without him..." Dean found he couldn't continue as he reached past Sara's arm and added his own touch to the dog's broad head. Jack, content with the caresses, closed his eyes and relaxed once more.

Sara shifted slightly sideways, settling herself more tightly against Dean. In response, he tightened his arms and gently laid his head atop hers. For the longest time they exchanged not a word, each content to draw comfort from the other.

At last, Sara broke the silence. "It killed Brian," she said her voice filled with grief for the friend she'd lost. "God, Dean, it killed him because of me. He was my friend, him and Jason..." Sara's voice trailed off as shuddering sobs began to tear through her.

Unsure of what he could say that would ease her pain, Dean just held her close and let her grieve for the friend she'd lost.

At last, her sobs trailed off and he eased a well-worn bandana out of his pocket. Handing it to her, he couldn't help but say, "He loved you, Sara, and he knew how much you loved him don't ever doubt that."

Sara hearing the conviction in his voice pulled back a bit to stare up at him. Suddenly uncomfortable with her scrutiny, Dean began to pull back.

"You talked to him," Sara hissed as she pulled even farther out of his arms.

Suddenly sensing the quicksand on which he trod, Dean tried to deflect Sara's anger. "Let's get you on upstairs. Jack needs his rest."

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me the truth," Sara spat, her voice rising in volume. "Did...you...talk...to...him? Sara enunciated each word as if she were speaking to someone hard of hearing.

Well and truly caught, Dean went on the offensive. "So what if I did. We were friends. What? Just because we weren't together I wasn't allowed to speak to him?"

"Friends? You weren't friends. He employed you on occasion. You were checking up on me!"

This time even Jack wasn't able to ignore the absolute fury in his mistress' voice. With a low growl the dog opened one eye and looked toward Dean as if warning the hunter that he wasn't quite so out of the game.

Dean slid back, well out of reach of Sara's quick fists, and stood. Hands on his hips he did his best to defend himself. "I never spoke to him I swear, Sara. But if I did check up on you, who the hell could blame me? I mean look at what happens when you're left to yourself," Dean snapped as he gestured to her bruised and battered state..

Sara scrambled to her knees and ignoring Dean's outstretched hand she gained her feet. For a moment she wobbled so badly that Dean felt sure she was going down. Just as he reached out to grab her she steadied herself. "At least I wasn't shot by my own possessed brother." At Dean's surprised look, Sara continued, "Yeah, he told me. You let yourself get shot, and you say I can't take care of myself."

The fear in Sara's eyes and her tone let Dean know just how upset she was. There was little he could say to re-assure her, his job was a dangerous one and Sara of all people had first hand knowledge of that. Nothing would be served by going into the details of the past months, instead, he focused on calming her down. "Sara I swear, I wasn't checking up on you. He left me one voice mail just after I left telling me to-" Realizing what he'd been about to say, Dean suddenly snapped his jaw shut.

She crossed her arms and stared up at him. "Go on. Brian left you a message telling you to what? No more secrets, Dean."

"Secrets?" Dean shouted, his temper once more leaping out of control. "It's not as if you don't have a few of your own."

"If you're referring to Sam and the car, that wasn't my secret to tell," Sara sputtered, eyes sparkling with anger.

"Sam? The car? What the hell are you talking about?" Dean questioned, completely lost.

The change that overcame Sara was instantaneous. Her stance became even more tense and she backed up a step or two. No longer yelling she asked, "What secret are you talking about?"

"What secret are you talking about?" Dean questioned, his gaze pinning Sara where she stood.

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For a moment, 'shit' was the only thought running through Sara's mind. She honestly couldn't think of any secret other than the one where Sam had told her he'd slashed the Impala's tires. Obviously, by the way that Dean was now staring at her he was still in the dark about that little fact.

As he loomed toward her, his face dark with anger, Sara couldn't help but back up a step. She needed an out and she needed one quickly. She knew Dean well enough to know that he wouldn't give up until he'd gotten a full confession from her. She owed it to Sam to at least try to fix what she'd done.

Deciding that now was probably a good time to act the invalid, Sara simply gave into her body's demands and dropped. Half convinced that she was going to hit the floor, she couldn't help but wince as she went down. Without fail, his arms wrapped tight around her stopping her fall before it had really even started.

"Sara," he cried as he swung her up and into his arms.

Keeping her eyes closed tight Sara didn't answer. She had wanted a distraction, not more lecturing.

"I know you can hear me," Dean snapped as he started from the room, "and since you're a captive audience at the moment," Dean swung her lightly to prove his point, "I'm going to take advantage of you."

Suddenly unsure of just what he meant Sara's opened her eyes to meet his laughing green gaze. "Dean," she warned, not appreciating his manipulation.

"Oh, keep your socks on," he said with a laugh as he made his way up the stairs, barely even seeming to notice her extra weight. "I meant that I want to talk to you about Gordon."

This time Sara was the one that was shocked. "Gordon? What about him, he's dead and done."

Dean nodded as he shoved open Sara's bedroom door with his boot. Sara couldn't help but swallow hard as she glanced from Dean to the bed. She'd never noticed before just how much that one piece of furniture seemed to dominate the room. Swallowing hard, she forced her thoughts back to the conversation at hand.

"You were the one that killed him," the green-eyed hunter growled as he lowered her gently onto her side of the bed.

Sensing his suddenly somber mood, Sara sighed and did her best to answer honestly. "Yeah, I was. He was a bastard, he threatened my family and he was doing his dead-level best to kill you, so, I shot him. You make it seem as if what I did was wrong."

"It's not that it was wrong," Dean said thrusting his hand through his hair as he lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed. "It's just that...you shouldn't have had to. I should have been the one to do it, or, better yet, I should never have brought him down on you in the first place."

Sara's heart ached with sadness at the guilty look on Dean's expression. Anxious to ease his pain, she sat up as carefully as she could and crawled toward him. "No, Dean, it's not for you to protect me," with these words, she reached his side.

Allowing herself no chance to doubt, she crawled right up and onto his lap. As she'd hoped his arms closed tight around her and he sighed deeply.

"God, you don't know how much I've missed you," he breathed as he nuzzled her ear.

At that moment, Sara could feel exactly how much he'd missed her, with a husky laugh she admitted as much, "Well, I'm starting to get the idea." Dean's low chuckle rumbled through his chest making her ache even more.

Determined not to hold back, to leave all her regrets behind, Sara confessed, "I killed Gordon. The same way I'd kill anything or anyone that tried to hurt you. I love you, you're a part of me now and nothing, not even distance is gonna change that. For better or worse Dean Winchester, I'm yours."

"Please, Sara, I..." Dean paused clearly at a loss.

Sara felt as if her world had suddenly come to a jarring halt. No matter how often she'd prepared herself for this moment, the pain was still second to none she'd ever felt. He didn't want her, at least, she clarified, not like she wanted him. Doing her best to maintain her composure, Sara scrambled off Dean's lap and stood.

At that moment, she just needed to be alone. Alone to lick her wounds, alone to imagine what might have been. She was halfway across the room, when something wrapped tight around her wrist and tugged her backward. Instead of hitting the floor as expected, she fell back against Dean's chest, his arms iron bands that wrapped around her.

For a moment, he just held on, his chin resting on her head, her back against his chest. At long last, just when she was afraid she couldn't hold herself together for another instant he spoke, "You need to let me finish." Dean pulled back just a bit as his lips brushed against Sara's neck, just below her ear.

Sara couldn't hide the shudder that ripped through her at the touch. At the feel of a second kiss, she found she no longer cared. "Dean," she breathed as his arms tightened just a fraction.

"Listen to me, Sara." Again, Dean's words were followed up with a kiss, this one placed just under her jaw line. "I love you and I have since the moment I stumbled into your house. These last six months have been killing me slowly and now, here in your arms, I just don't think I have the strength to leave you again."

"Then don't," Sara said on a sigh as she turned to face him. Dropping the lightest of kisses at the corner of his mouth she confessed, "I'm nothing when you're not here."

"God, that's the problem isn't it?" Dean said as he cradled her face in his work-roughened hands. "Without each other, there's no point to anything."

"There's really not, is there? I mean I've spent the last six months pretending to be someone I wasn't," Sara said as she reached up and cupped his face, "It was like a huge chunk of who I am was suddenly missing. You took a part of me with you when you left," she accused.

"Well," Dean said as leaned into her touch, "that's only fair since I left a piece of me behind."

So afraid that he would blink and she'd be gone, Dean gently lowered his head until his lips brushed against Sara's. With the lightest of touches, he kissed her and then pulled back. Sara's eyes blinked open as she stared up at him. For just a moment he wondered if he really was dreaming, if in the next minute the feel of her body beneath his hands would become his pillow and he'd wake up alone in some nameless motel.

Then instead of disappearing, she pulled his head down and kissed him. At first, her lips just barely brushed against his, then with a moan she edged closer still. Heat enveloped Dean as she rubbed her lips harder against his, but it was the feel of her tongue that was truly his undoing.

Deprived of her touch for so long, Dean simply couldn't go slow. Without ever breaking the kiss, he swept her into his arms and moved toward the bed. No longer able to think clearly, Dean went solely on instinct. With a heartfelt groan, he carefully placed Sara on the big bed and eased himself down on top of her.

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Sara wasn't sure at what point her 'just let him go' plan had become her 'hold on tight' plan but at the first touch of his lips to hers she was certain she was doing the right thing. Dean was hers, he had been since the moment she'd met him and no longer would she deny what she wanted. With that in mind, Sara pressed herself against him, her lips brushing his with all the feeling she could manage.

The shock went straight to her toes, leaving her lightheaded and in danger of passing out cold. Dean, god bless him, had everything under control. Before she could embarrass herself by hitting the floor, he'd gathered her into his arms and had laid her on the bed.

Much to Sara's relief Dean followed her down until he lay half on top of her, his boot clad feet brushing against her bare toes. With a lazy grin, Dean leaned forward until his mouth hovered just above hers. Sara couldn't help but moan with anticipation as his mouth at last closed over hers.

As her hands slipped upward to encircle his neck, she teased her fingers through his short sandy colored hair. At her touch, he deepened the kiss, driving her mad with need. "Dean," she gasped at last when he broke contact.

Chest heaving, he stared down at her with heavy lidded eyes, the corner of his mouth tilted up in the start of a smile. "You're killing me," he groaned as he dropped his forehead to hers.

"Right back atcha, babe," Sara replied as she began to work the buttons on the blue plaid flannel shirt he wore. Once she'd uncovered a bit of skin, she darted forward, her teeth just barely nipping his collar bone.

This time, Dean's moan echoed through the room as he clenched her tightly to his chest and rolled onto his back, bringing Sara with him. He stopped only when she lay sprawled across his chest, her bare feet brushing against his jeans. Dean stared hard, his green eyes, pinning Sara where she lay. "I never stopped loving you. I just wanted to keep you safe."

At his words, tears flooded Sara's eyes. So many times during the past six months she'd convinced herself that he had never loved her. That he was simply a love 'em and leave 'em kinda of guy. Now, though, with his words ringing in her ears, she couldn't help but read the truth. As her tears made tracks down her chin to fall on his chest, Sara leaned up and kissed him firmly. "I have always loved you, and I will always love you."

Promises made, Sara, couldn't stop her burst of laughter as Dean rolled with a growl once more, putting her back to the mattress again.

Chapter End Notes:

Alright then, this is it guys just one more chapter left. I think I've managed to cover all my bases except for one tiny little confession that our Sammy still needs to make ;) Thanks as always for the support and I hope you've enjoyed - Kel