"I'm done," Dean informs her as she once again opens the closet door to check on him. "I don't care if you aren't, but I am fucking done talking."

"Acting like you have a choice here," she comments, leaning Lizzy's back against the hallway wall across from Dean, crossing both her arms and legs while peering in at his pathetic, slumped body language. "We're almost finished anyways."

"Don't care," Dean spits back, empty whiskey bottle in his hand. Between the Vicodin earlier and the alcohol, he's got a minor and exhausted case of booze balls going. "Give her back."

"Can't. Not just yet," Laraje simply responds, pissing Dean off more with her relaxed attitude. His anger quickly morphs to desperation when he looks up at Lizzy's face across from him, so familiar but still so heartbreakingly foreign.

"Please," he quietly begs, eyes drawn to his hands once more as he can't look into her face any longer. It hurt too damn much. "I probably already lost her, alright. She's going to leave me after all this so you did your job. Just let her go and leave us alone. Please."

"Oh come on. You're in the home stretch, my friend."

"Not your friend," he tells her lowly and through gritted teeth.

"Just two more people left," she tells him while pushing off of the wall and stepping towards him. She reaches into the closet, Dean watching her movements closely as she picks up the two pictures they hadn't discussed yet. She places them on the floor in front of him, the two faces staring back up almost tauntingly. "Then you'll never hear from me again. Promise."

"I have to know why," Dean says to her as she backs out of the closet once more and sits across from him. "Before making me spill anymore of my fucked up, daytime soap of a life, I need to know why you are doing this."

"That answer is very much tied in with these two people we still have to discuss." Laraje looks at him with a new expression he hasn't seen from her yet. If he didn't know she was a demon he'd swear she felt bad. "And now that you're kind of drunk it should be easier, right? Upside."

"Whatever," Dean mutters sadly while staring at the empty bottle he's rolling between his fingers. "It takes a lot more than this to get me drunk, sweetheart."

Laraje sighs heavily. "I would be a high functional alcoholic too if I'd been through the life you have. It's been more than any person should ever have to go through and I do sympathize."

"Lucky me," Dean grumbles. "My life is so fucking shitty that I earned myself the pity of a demon."

"What I'm trying to do here is help you."

"Why the fuck would you want to help me?" Dean looks up at her with suspicious eyes. He's yet to figure out her angle and the thought that she wants to help him doesn't sit well at all.

"Why are you so surprised by this? I'm not the first demon to be on the Winchester's side," she reminds him.

"Right," Dean says to his empty bottle once more. Ruby has been their 'ally' for a while now. Stranger things have happened.

Larage points down to the picture on the left. "You keep telling me how much you love her, how much you need her, how she's different from all the rest, blah-blah-blah, but why? Why do you love her? Why is she the one you need so badly?"

Dean peers at the picture, her bright toothy smile and that beautiful spark in her eyes so clearly displayed. He then looks to the woman in front of him, tight-lipped grin and blank stare making her look like an entirely different person. He misses her so badly it hurt.

"I'm not a good person," Dean quietly says to the demon.

"Why do you think that?" she asks, going along with him.

"Because I'm not," he answers back quickly, clearly believing what he's telling her completely. "I've made some bad decisions in my life."

"Like?"

"Doesn't matter," he brushes off, hoping to keep his biggest secret from Lizzy until he can tell her in full person. "But no matter what I've done, Lizzy has always looked at me differently than everyone else does, than I do my own self. When she sees me, she only sees the good, whatever little actually still exists in there."

"And what do you see in yourself?" Laraje leans forward in fascination.

Dean sighs. "I see a seriously fucked up person who's done some awful, unspeakable things."

"Why haven't you told her?" Laraje simply asks, eyes trained on him as she watches his body tense with the subject.

He knows what she's asking and stares down at the empty bottle once more, hesitantly answering while praying she won't elaborate and spill the truth about his time in hell to Lizzy. "Scared."

"Of?"

"She won't view me the same," Dean explains, his heart hurting already. "L has always looked at me with this thing in her eyes. It's, like, hopeful and, I don't know, warm. It makes me feel like, yeah, I'm not all bad. Like maybe I am a good person since she's so damn sure that I am. She's loved me without question and with all that she has from the jump and I'm going to lose that when she finds out. It won't be the same."

"But holding all that from her seems unfair," Laraje tells him. "She deserves to know exactly who she's trusting her heart with, don't you think?"

"No," Dean says, knuckles turning white with his frustrated grip on the bottle. "Not yet."

"Then when?"

Dean looks up at her with fire burning behind his eyes. "When I can be alone with her, and at a time when I can talk to her face to face and without you tossing in your two cents."

"I don't know, Dean," Laraje comments. "She's climbing the walls in here with curiosity. I think we should let her know now."

"No," Dean sternly growls, getting angrier with her threat.

"Yes," Laraje argues. "It will be like ripping off a Band-Aid." Laraje closes Lizzy's eyes.

"Stop."

"Lizzy, honey…"

The empty whiskey bottle sails through the air, whizzing by Lizzy's head and smashing just to the right of her ear. Laraje jumps with the explosion of broken glass and whips her head back to Dean, Lizzy's eyes going black and eyebrows dropping with fury. Quickly she holds her hand out in his direction. "Sit still!"

Dean suddenly finds himself pressed into the wall and immobile again. Throwing the bottle at her was a terrible ide, but instincts took control and the glass was airborne before he could stop it. He watches and listens as Laraje keeps talking to his horror.

"Lizzy, there are some things you don't know about Dean and his time in the pit."

"Don't do this!" Dean demands as she continues talking.

"Every day here in the real world was equal to over a year in hell. And every day, every single one for several years straight, Dean was given a choice." Lizzy's eyes are closed once more but her hand remains outstretch, keeping him in place.

"Just… don't…" Dean tries desperately.

"He could keep going with the status quo, experiencing unimaginable torture nonstop for twenty-four hours, or he could make the pain finally stop if he began doling it out on other souls. If he became the torturer, he'd be spared."

"I let her down," Dean breaks in. "I promised her I wouldn't let them get to me."

"But you did, didn't you?" Laraje asks, popping Lizzy's eyes open and peering at him with excitement. She drops her hand and frees him. "You gave in."

"I said yes," Dean admits, his life-worn eyes looking older than usual with the internal anguish it causes him. "They used her against me. I couldn't do it."

"They used your weakness for Lizzy to get you to agree to their offer," Laraje adds, making it clear to Lizzy just how bad her effect on him can be. "They used her image to trick you."

"I thought she was down there with me," Dean explains. Looking up at Laraje he sees her softened expression return. It once again makes him feel like she has sympathy for him. He props his knees up with his feet on the ground and leans his elbow on them. Bowing his head to avoid her stare, he continues. "She was… being hurt, she was suffering right in front of me and I didn't know if it was real or not. I saw her cry in pain, heard her scream for my help, saw her flesh being stripped away piece by piece. I was told that if I agreed to hurt others she'd be set free, her soul returned topside. I broke. Lizzy's own pain was the worst thing they ever did to me. I'd rather be sent back to the pit than every go through that agin."

"So you agreed," Laraje finishes. "You picked up the knife for her freedom and safety."

"I said yes. I…I started to tor…" His voice disappears when the word torture dies on his tongue. He couldn't manage saying it. Tears threaten as he swears he can feel her heart breaking with his admission. "L, I'm so sorry," he whispers, a single tear making its way down his face.

"For ten years, a full decade, you ripped through souls with pure abandon. You tore and slashed and mutilated… and did it with a smile. You enjoyed your time, didn't you, Dean?"

Dean keeps his head lowered, tears falling onto the wooden floor silently as he becomes more and more convinced that he's losing her. How could he not? She'll never view him the same. She'll never think of him as the good person she used to. She'll never be able to stay with a person who's done such abominable things.

"How is it," Laraje begins to ask, "that a man who has committed his entire life to helping others at the expense of his own safety and happiness could so easily take to doing the very opposite?"

"Anger." He didn't even need to think about the answer.

"Anger at…" Laraje keeps nudging.

"Everything," he admits. "I was angry that my parents were both dead. Angry that my brother is a fucked up mess and it isn't his fault, he doesn't deserve any of it. Angry that I couldn't be there to help him deal with it either. Angry that Lizzy was alone and I couldn't see her anymore, even though I thought of her every fucking day I was down there. Angry that life handed me this perfect person who actually wanted me as much as I wanted her and then took her away. Angry that I had to sell my soul for Sam's in the first place. Angry that… my life sucked so fucking much."

"And you wanted others to feel what you had been through, to understand your plight," Laraje sums up to which Dean nods his head in confirmation.

"It was selfish." Dean can't lift his head from its place, too ashamed to look Lizzy in the eye. "I told her I'd stay strong, I promised, and I couldn't do it," Dean adds, his guilt crushing his soul.

"That's what love does to you," she explains. "It makes people weaker and preoccupied. Dean, you don't have time in your life for this shame. You need to move on, play your part in this life without Lizzy tagging along and worrying you, guilting you."

"I know," Dean tells her truthfully. "I swear I never wanted this to happen but I can't stay away anymore. I have to have her in my life. It's just this thing inside me that keeps telling me I need her, that this is right. For her own sake I wish I could back off but now she's a part of who I am. I can't make that stop."

"But your love for one person is very negatively affecting another person in your life," Laraje crawls over to the closet door opening. "You've known this person your whole life. You've been devoted totally to this person and you've been everything a good soul mate should be to them." She reaches into the small room and taps her finger on the last picture, the one that still confused Dean the most.

"But," Dean starts and pauses while looking at the very familiar face under shaggy dark hair she's pointing to. "What does Sam have to do with all of this?"

She looks up at him, her almost sad eyes showing up once more. "A lot more than you think, apparently."

He can finally see it. Bright blue paint with white trim. Lizzy's apartment. Huffing a breath of relief that comes out in a white cloud through the cold air, that drive, that internal push comes back in full force. Sam starts sprinting down the street, just three houses away from his long awaited destination.

As he squints through the falling snow to keep the flakes out of his eyes, he studies the building. Everything looks quiet, calm, and normal. The lights are on in her second floor apartment though he doesn't see any movement through the windows.

Sam checks his back pocket for the millionth time since his slip, ensuring that the little silver flask is still there. It is and he begins mentally preparing himself for whatever he might find once he gets inside.

"Have you noticed that with every conversation we've had about every single woman in your past you've brought up Sam?"

Dean wrinkles his brow and looks at her with sheer confusion. Had he really done that?

"Sam being left alone when you lost your V-card, how Jo is like both you and Sam's little sister, how he was at college when you met Cassie, how you're going to kill him for letting you come here alone when talking about Lisa… which isn't his fault by the way. You just got lucky that he cares that much about you and your sanity that he'd send you off to try and sort through your issues."

"So what?" Dean disputes. "He's been the one constant in my life. He's my fucking brother."

"And most people aren't so attached to their siblings. You and Sam have a much stronger bond than typical brothers do."

"Of course we do!" Dean returns with sheer annoyance, sitting up taller at her accusations. "We've never had anyone else! Our mother died, we were on the road all the time with no opportunity for friends or stability. We only had each other to cling to for almost our whole lives!" The fire builds in him.

"You two have had a unique experience in life," Laraje agrees.

"Unique?" Dean says with disbelief. "More like cruel."

"Unwarranted," Laraje adds. "But no one gets the luxury of choosing the path their lives take. Their paths choose them and it's how they react, how they conduct themselves while walking down it that matters."

"What the fuck are you talking about!" Dean shouts to her, his mind tired, his head still hurting, and his patience worn beyond thin. "What does any of this have to do with me and Lizzy?"

Clumsily climbing over the very large snow bank in front of the walkway, Sam skids over the slick ice on his way to the screened-in porch door. He carefully pulls the cheap sheet metal door open and eases it closed behind him, making sure that it latches back in place without a sound. He doesn't want this demon that could still be inside of Lizzy knowing of his presence any sooner than she has to.

He surveys the front door, very quickly spying the small trickle of thick, red liquid trailing from under it. Blood. Not good.

Sam walks quietly up to the door and peers through the stained glass window in it. On the floor he can see two motionless bodies. The hunters that Bobby had sent out he assumes. With a pained look he shakes his head, sad to see he couldn't arrive in time to stop it from happening.

Pulling out his lock pick, Sam gets to work as quietly as he can.

"You need to walk down your path the right way," Laraje adds. "You need to navigate this life with your one and only soul mate, no one else."

"I'm not cutting out my own brother!" Dean loudly rebuts. "No fucking way. If this is what you've been trying to do this whole time, then you fail."

"Such a fucking idiot," Laraje lets out exasperatedly to herself. "Holy shit, you live in total denial, you know that? I'm not telling you to ditch Sam, you moron! I'm telling you to ditch Lizzy."

"What... the fuck… are you talking about!" Dean's confused to say the least, and angry with the circles she talks in.

"Lizzy is not your soul mate," Laraje tells him. "She never was. Sam is your soul mate, Dean. The only one who's meant to be with you throughout. The one person who can truly, totally understand you."

"That's fucked up," Dean states. "He's my brother. He's not my soul mate."

"I think you have the wrong idea on what a soul mate actually is," she clarifies. "It's about love in general. You would do anything for Sam at the drop of a hat, you even sacrificed your own soul for him. You raised him from childhood and kept him healthy and as happy as a kid of a hunter can be. The worst moment in your life was the day you found out that Sam wouldn't be with you every day anymore. It crushed you."

Dean lets the memory wash over him and the helpless despair as he watched Sam pack what little belongings he had comes right back. She's right. It was the worst day of his life. It hurt more than anything else ever had.

Sam reaches down and checks the pulse of the face down, younger hunter with a glimmer of a hope, only to pull his hand away with disappointment. The older man was clearly already gone, his neck twisted in such a way that no person could survive. It's a mess, the gruesome scene a terrible omen for what he now expects inside the apartment.

He can hear Lizzy's voice now that he's inside the house and he very quickly realizes it isn't her with the words she speaks. She's talking about him, actually. The fact that he and Dean are… what? Soul mates? What is this bitch rambling about?

Blocking out her words, Sam pulls out the flask and takes another deep breath. He knows what he has to do for sure now. This demon is still wearing Lizzy and he isn't going to let that happen.

"You keep saying that you need Lizzy, but Dean, she doesn't need you. She'd survive without you. Sam would not." Laraje scoots closer to him, studying his face as she does. "It's a two way street with soul mates. They need each other equally. Sam would crumble without you, as your time in hell pretty much proved."

His eyes close, the strain of his thoughts being too much in the moment. "Can't do this anymore."

He feels her hand grasp lightly onto his and he opens his eyes again. Laraje is sitting what would normally be too close for comfort for a demon, but he for some reason feels safe. He lets her hold his hand as she talks.

"If you can, tell me that you don't believe me," she asks of him quietly.

"Can't," Dean whispers.

"This is all that I wanted, Dean," Laraje explains. "I wanted you to know the truth. You deserve that much."

Wiping the smudge of demon blood off of the corner of his mouth using his coat sleeve, Sam carefully makes his way to the stairs, doing his damnedest not to let them drop loudly on the hard surface of the floor.

One step at a time, his blood coursing through him rapidly with the added assistance, he listens carefully, not to what they talk about though. He's looking for an opportunity to get in and do what he must.

"Why?" he looks to her, vision blurred and eyes red. His face is long and pathetic, searching for a reason why the only good thing is his life is purposefully being dismantled. "Why do I have to know all this? Why can't I just be happy?"

"Because," Laraje starts quietly. "That is not your path in life."

"Why not?" Dean asks with desperation, trying to understand.

"She's going to be your motivation in the future," Laraje says. "And that can't happen."

"Motivation for what?" His eyes are wide, thoroughly lost.

"For the big show," Laraje simply states. "When the time comes, she's going to push you to do certain things, things that are not supposed to happen."

"Again, what the fuck are you talking about!" Dean begs loudly, his grip on her hand tightening to painful levels. "Just tell me! I've earned that!"

"Dean, you and your brother have a very specific…" Larjae begins but it cut off by the fluttering sound coming from behind her.

"I should never have left you two alone," Castiel says plainly as his silver sword drops down from his trench coat sleeve. He advances forward towards her and Dean panics.

"No!" Dean shouts before pressing off of the floor and launching forward into Castiel.