"Y/N, Bobby is dead."

If she had cried, it probably wouldn't have been this hard for Dean to see. Upon hearing Sam's words, Y/N simply seemed to shut down, going into a state of shock. She seemed numb. So he just watched her from his place in the chair, as Sam sat next to her.

"So he's dead," she said to no one in particular. "When did it happen?"

Sam was restlessly fiddling with his own fingers. He wanted to hug Y/N, maybe comfort her in some way but he knew instinctively that it was not something she would want right now. "Almost three years ago."

Y/N closed her eyes in regret. Bobby had been dead for three whole years and she hadn't even known. She counted back in her head to remember what she had been doing at that time. "Leviathans?" she asked looking at Sam, and then at Dean.

Dean nodded grimly. "Yeah. Their head honcho, Dick Roman. His bullet hit Bobby in the head."

"Where did you -"

Dean didn't need Y/N to finish her question to know what she wanted to know. "We gave him a proper hunter's funeral."

"Y/N," Sam said with a slight smile, hoping to offer her some sort of comfort. "He's in heaven now. We made sure of that. He's at peace."

She tried to smile but she was certain it must have looked pitiful to the both of them. She thought about Bobby, and how they'd left things. She thought about how they never got to properly say their good-byes. A part of her envied Dean and Sam for having that opportunity, except she didn't have any right to that envy either. She had been the one to throw away that opportunity. She had been the one to decide stupidly to stay away for ten freaking years! He's at peace, she repeated to herself. No more hunting, and no more blood. No more pain. Maybe, just maybe, in knowing that, she could find some peace too.

Y/N was silent again for a while, and Dean simply watched her. She was still, not looking at either of them, but to Dean it felt like it was him that she was truly avoiding. He couldn't figure out for the life of him what he'd done so wrong for her to put this much distance between them. It was true that he'd left without a word twenty years ago but, heck! That was twenty years ago, damn it. It wasn't like he hadn't tried to call her. It was she who had not picked up. It wasn't like he hadn't tried to reach out to her to find her. It was she who had not wanted to be found. Then life happened – hell gates, hell itself, the apocalypse, Leviathans, Purgatory…the Mark. Dean had tried, except now he was starting to think that maybe he should have just tried a little bit harder.

Y/N wiped her face with her palm, and ran her hand through her hair. "So what have you boys been up to since I last saw you?" Sam and Dean shared a look, as if silently asking each other how much of it should they really tell her. "What?" she asked.

Sam chuckled. "I'm not sure where to begin."

"Maybe from the beginning?" she quipped, and Sam did. Y/N couldn't believe her ears. Dean had almost died in a car crash. They'd lost their dad to a demon deal. Sam had died because of Azazel, or Yellow-Eyes as Sam referred to him, then Dean had made a deal to bring him back to life. Then Dean had gone to hell, and had been tortured for almost four months. This was the hardest to hear, except Sam kept going. He was far from done. When he told her about the angels and the apocalypse, she already had known some parts of it, except hearing their side of it and how it had pretty much almost destroyed them made Y/N want to cry in their behalf. Then Dean went to purgatory and Sam had hit a dog or something. They found out that they were a part of something called the Men of Letters, which of course she had never heard of before.

"So in other words," Sam said quite nonchalantly, "We've been to hell, purgatory, and very briefly to heaven as well."

"Oh God, why didn't anyone tell me?" Y/N asked with a horrified look on her face, except she already knew why. She'd disappeared, and no one had known how to reach her, not even Bobby. They'd been through so much in the past years, and she could have been there for them, but she hadn't been - all because of her stupid decision to walk away from them. In the grim light of what they had suffered, her pain that had led to her walking away seemed so petty.

"These days…" Sam began but Dean cut him off with a look. Y/N could tell that there was something that Dean didn't want her to know but she chose not to push it then. What she had heard already would take a lot of time to sink in anyway.

Dean slightly cleared his throat, making her glance his way. "So what have you been up to?" he wanted to know.

"Well, nothing as colorful as you two. I've been touring Europe taking down some nests of fangs here and there."

"No way! No freaking way! That was you?" Sam all but yelled. "Dude, remember I told you some time back about this rumor of some hunter going around Europe wiping out nests all alone?" Dean nodded. "Well," Sam continued, "I think that was Y/N. Was it?"

"It might have been," Y/N winked.

"Wow," Sam grinned. "That's pretty cool."

Y/N just shrugged. "All part of the job. I work better alone anyway, you know."

Dean stood up. He'd had enough of this. Y/N was perfectly normal with Sam, and yet she completely stonewalled him. He couldn't take it. He needed to get out of here at least for a while. He was starting to feel angry. He couldn't tell if it was just the Mark acting up or if it was him. It was getting harder and harder to tell it all apart these days. "I'm starving," he declared. "I'm going to grab some grub. You guys want anything?"

"Coffee would be nice," Y/N said looking at him uncertainly.

"I could go," Sam volunteered but Dean just motioned for him to stay. Grabbing the keys of the Impala, he was gone.

Y/N looked at the door that he closed behind him. "Something's off with Dean," she said almost to herself. She could just feel it in her gut even though she couldn't put her finger on it. He seemed like he was on edge, and angry. She knew that twenty years could do a lot to someone, especially with what he has been through but something was just off. She just knew it.

Sam debated with himself wondering how much he should truly tell her. He needed her to understand, but he didn't want to scare her off. In the end, he decided to go with the truth. "What do you know about the Mark of Cain, Y/N?"

Her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "Uhm, not much. I mean, I've heard a story. Once I exorcised a demon, one real high ranking bitch. She said something about it in passing. From what I understood, it was like a legend in the demon world."

"It's real," Sam told her solemnly. Then he went on to tell her about how Dean took on the Mark of Cain to take down Abaddon, the Knight of Hell, and later Cain himself. He told her how it had even turned him into a demon, and how Sam had cured him. With each word, he slowly watched her, gauging her response. It seemed she was taking it pretty well, or Y/N had a real good poker face. "I'm trying, Y/N, I need to save him before it destroys him."

The thoughts were whirling in Y/N's head, and she was desperately trying to make sense of it all. It seemed so surreal, but clearly it was all true, and it was happening here and now to Dean. What in the world happened to the day when hunting was just killing a couple of werewolves and laying some ghosts to rest? She wondered to herself. No matter how hard it was to take in all of this, she knew one thing for certain. This could be a chance to make up for what she couldn't do before. "Honestly, Sam, I don't know what to say…but I want to help Dean too. I want to help you both."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Sam smiled. He stared at her before finally deciding to come clean about what he'd been thinking ever since Dean went into that confession during their last case. "Dean's been really on edge lately. He's all about the hunt, moving on from one to the other, just focused on keeping up with the motions, you know? But for the first time since all this started happening, he showed some real emotion – like he wants more. That was when he thought about you. He's different around you, Y/N. He's sentimental about you."

Y/N couldn't help but scoff at that. "Really? Is that why it took him two decades to find me?"

"I don't have a proper answer to that. You'll have to ask him why," Sam shrugged. "But one thing's for sure. I feel like you're his emotional trigger. He needs that. You have no idea how much he needs something like that, Y/N."

She sighed. She didn't know how much of it to believe or if Sam even knew what he was talking about. Over the past few years, she had convinced herself that Dean probably forgot about her, and that he probably did it quite easily. She pretended she had forgotten about him too. She'd gone pretty much more than half her life trying to do so even if the slightest thing reminded her of him. She couldn't even hear a Led Zeppelin song without having flashbacks of the greenest eyes framed by those thick lashes.

Was she to believe now that it had been the same for Dean? Did he keep her in his mind for the last twenty years too? If what Sam was saying was even remotely true, that's exactly what she was supposed to believe. She couldn't decide if this was happiness that she was feeling, of if it was sheer fear. Was she ready to let him in again and risk it all – this safe little life of loneliness she'd built for herself?

"What do you need me to do?" she finally asked resignedly, and a part of her knew that she just might regret this.

X X X

Dean took his own sweet time driving to the nearby diner and getting them some food. He hoped Y/N still liked those little Cinnamon rolls she used to obsess over when they were kids, because he'd gotten a whole bag full of them.

X X X

"Even if it's the last thing I do, I'm going to save you, Dean Winchester," Y/N giggled. "You're not failing Algebra. Not on my watch."

They were at this little diner near her house, and Y/N had gotten it into her head to tutor him. He grabbed them seat and dumped his books on the table. "Oh yeah? You're four grades below me. I'd like to see you try."

She just scoffed at him, completely dismissing him as always. "Please, I'm so much more smarter than you. I got this," she insisted.

One hour, one coffee pot, and about half a dozen cinnamon rolls between them later, Y/N finally decided to admit defeat. "I don't think I got this," she sighed. "I can't help you. No one can."

"I think I'll muddle through," he chuckled. "You don't exactly need algebra to figure out how to kill a werewolf."

Y/N quickly shushed him and looked around to see if they were overheard. When she was certain they weren't, she turned back to him to say giddily, "Exactly! That's just what I keep saying too! You, Dean Winchester, just might be my soul mate."

Dean laughed. "Do you like saying my full name or something?" Then he thought about what she said about the whole soul mate thing. "Do you even believe in that crap?"

She looked subdued and offended by his reaction. "Are you making fun of me?"

He hated the way she looked right now, all withdrawn and confused. He hated it more knowing that his words had put that look on her. Dean reached out to take hold of her hand. Her fingers, slender and long, entwined with his. Her hand, so small and smooth, fit perfectly into his big rough callused palm. She fit into his life, all that he was. Was this what having a soul mate felt like, this complete feeling of belonging?

"I don't believe in soul mates, Y/N," he told her honestly, and watched her face fall. It was just the tiniest change in expression that no one else would have caught but he saw it. He didn't miss anything when it came to her. "But know this," he continued, solemnly staring into her eyes. "If I ever did believe in such things, I think it would be because of you. If feeling the way I feel when I'm with you is what it feels like to have a soul mate, then I want to feel it forever."

Y/N didn't know what to make of it. It almost sounded like Dean was telling her that he loved her, and a part of Dean thought that maybe that was exactly what he was doing right now. Somehow neither of them needed to elaborate, but they both just somehow knew in their hearts that what they had was changing from just a simple friendship to something much, much more.

"Forever, and always?" she asked him teasingly.

Dean grinned, tightening his hand around hers. "Forever, and always…to hell and back," he promised her. Then he watched her laugh at his quip, letting the musical notes of her happiness wash over him, embracing him. He felt at peace, and he never wanted to lose this.

X X X

"Forever, and always," Dean mumbled to himself in memory. So many questions fluttered around in his head as he took the long way back to the motel, wanting more time to clear his mind. How had they forgotten that pact? How had they let themselves forget? Would things have been different if somehow he'd tracked down Y/N sooner without waiting for twenty whole years? But then he gently reminded himself that if he had, he probably would have gotten her killed. Maybe things went down the way they did for a reason.

His phone rang, and he picked up to hear Sam's voice. "Dean, where are you?"

"I'm on my way. I got your stupid salad, sasquatch."

"We are ready to drive back to the bunker, I guess," Sam told him.

What did he mean by 'we'? Dean wondered. "Did you say 'we'?" he asked just to clarify.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "I asked Y/N to come stay at the bunker with us, at least for a while."

"And she said yes?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, she did. We'll talk more when you get here." Then there was some shuffling noise, as if Y/N said something to Sam. "And Y/N says you better not have forgotten the cinnamon rolls." With that the line went dead.

Dean stared a little while longer at the phone, still unable to believe what he had heard. What the hell was going on? One moment it felt like Y/N couldn't wait to get away from him and now she was coming back to live with them? Dude, what the hell!

He glanced over at the brown paper bag next to him. "At least I got the cinnamon rolls," he muttered to himself and sped up the Impala. All of a sudden, he was in a hurry to get back to the motel…to get back to her.