Dean slid his callused fingers over a smooth, sterling silver and turquoise butterfly charm necklace.

Kenna had taken it off during a hunt a few days ago, given it to Dean for safe keeping, and still hadn't asked for it back yet. He had been carrying it in his pocket for three days, constantly reaching inside to stroke the chain with his thumb. For some reason, it made him feel better, closer to Kenna even if she wasn't with him all the time.

She had always said it was the most precious object she owned. As a child it had been the one thing that was truly hers and it had been made even more special when Dean had given it back to her, years later, as an adult.

It meant the world to her. Always had. Always would.

It always looked beautiful on her and Dean Winchester could never imagine anything prettier than when Kenna was smiling, looking at him and grinning, with her butterfly necklace dangling from her neck.

But it had been a long time since he had seen her look at him like that. And it was starting to scare him.

"Whatcha thinkin' 'bout, boy?"

Dean looked up from his spot on the front steps and found his gaze only reaching up to Bobby's Singer's thighs. Still unused to the lack of Bobby's wheelchair, Dean readjusted his gaze until he looked up at the older man's face. Without a single sign of pain or discomfort, Bobby leaned down and sat next to Dean, a small smile curving his lips.

It was still hard to believe that Bobby was walking again. It had only been a week ago when Bobby had woken up, climbed out of bed and without even thinking, stood up and walked to the kitchen. It was only after he had brewed a pot of coffee and made eggs and bacon for breakfast that it finally dawned on him that he was on his feet and walking.

None of them asked why or how it happened. None of them wanted to jinx it. All they could do was chalk it up as a mystery.

"Eh," Kenna had shrugged as she and Dean watched Bobby dance across the living room floor later that day. "Calling it a miracle makes it more fun anyway."

"Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?" Bobby asked again, pulling Dean back from his memories. The older man nodded at the piece of jewelry in Dean's hand.

"She still not wearin' that?"

Dean shook his head. "Nah," he answered. "She never put it back on after she took it off a few days ago."

The corner of Bobby's lips curled up. "You don't need to worry about her," he whispered.

Dean looked at Bobby and frowned. "I'm not," he countered.

Bobby arched an eyebrow and smiled. "You're not?" he asked. "Dean, I know you better than anybody, 'cept for Sam, of course, but I know when you're worryin about stuff, and right now…you're worryin' a damn hole in my porch."

Dean was almost tempted to lift his hip and look under his ass for a hole, even though he knew there wouldn't be one. Instead he shook his head, closed his eyes, and let out a long, low breath. "Sorry, Bobby," he said, softly. "I am worried about her. Kenna's been…different lately."

"Maybe she's pissed at ya," Bobby offered, harshly. "For not marryin' her."

"I wanna wait a little while longer. Give her somethin' better," Dean chuckled. "She says she'll marry me in a courthouse, bloody and wearin' jeans…but I know better. Deep down Kenna wants a real wedding. Somethin' small, maybe in a little, old church somewhere. I don't want her bloody from a hunt and wearin' blue jeans. I want her clean and pretty and wearin' a white dress because she deserves to wear that color more than any woman I know."

Bobby smiled. Dean had grown up a decade in the last few months. Mostly, thanks to Kenna. He'd had to given how he had watched as she fought cancer, angels, and her own personal demons. What they had been through in only a few months was something most couples wouldn't go through in twenty years. And as far as Bobby was concerned, if there was any man out there ready to take the plunge, it was Dean Winchester.

"Plus, you're waitin' on Sam, aren't you?" Bobby asked.

Dean nodded. "I need him to stand up with me. He loves Kenna probably just as much as I do and I want him to be there for both of us."

"But that's not all," Bobby continued. "Is it?"

Dean closed his eyes again. Bobby was quickly stripping him down, making him feel open and naked.

"I'm afraid," Dean whispered, refusing to look at the older man next to him.

"Of what?"

"I'm afraid she's going to leave me again," Dean answered, truthfully. "Kenna's been acting so strange lately, moody, restless. Like she can't sit still at all. She seems to put on a happy face just to make me think she's okay, but I know…she's not."

"Nightmares?" Bobby asked.

"Constantly," Dean answered, quickly. "And they seem to be even worse than the ones she used to have."

Bobby frowned and shook his head, wondering how much more Kenna could actually take until she snapped.

"And you think she's going to leave you?" Bobby asked.

"That's what she's always done before," Dean said. "If there's a problem, her first instinct is to run away from it."

"I don't know if she'd do that now, Dean," Bobby ventured. "She became a different person while you were gone with Michael. I watched her rise up and become even stronger than she already was. She fought, tooth and nail, to bring you back, I watched her. So I can't even imagine her ever leaving you now."

Dean took a deep breath, wanting to breathe in Bobby's words, willing them to be true.

"I hope you're right, Bobby," he whispered and rubbed Kenna's silver chain with his thumb again. He looked out, past the yard and into the woods where Kenna had gone to work on her Shelby earlier. He dropped his head and squeezed the necklace in his fist.

His voice was raw when he said, "I still just can't help feeling like there's something really wrong with everything."

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