Okay, first of all, I'm so incredibly sorry that this is up a day late. Almost two (I'm posting this kind of close to midnight). Long story short, I had plans this weekend for getting this chapter up which got bent over a table, so, yeah. Then, to add a cherry on top of a pretty shitty weekend, I got sick. But, FINALLY, there's internet at the new place, so I can post things once again! Huzzah! Hope this was worth the wait, and thanks so much for your understanding and patience! I love you all.

Dean didn't bring up the weird situation he'd found Y/N and Gabe in, but she knew it was eating at him.

He was just a bit more irritable, and was often found glaring daggers at the drummer of the course of the next few days. She sometimes worried that he would leap across his piano and start beating the drummer, but it never got that far. The closest he got was clenching his fists when a joke of Gabe's made her laugh.

She wished that she could just explain everything to Dean, but Agent Singer had been very clear: tell no one. She'd seen her life flash before her eyes when she'd told him about how Gabe how found out. Had it not been for Ellen, a part of Y/N thought that she'd end up on the evening news as a missing person.

He'd only calmed down once she told him about the bank. His dark eyes had lit up, and a smile spread across his face. It was awkward, like it didn't happen often. He seemed to catch himself, the usual gruff exterior returning quickly. He'd thanked her and asked her to continue her good work.

She'd left the diner with a little spring in her step that day.

A spring that was long gone by the time she had stepped foot in Crowley's.

Dean had been terse with her since he had found the drummer and the singer in the hallway. Whenever she'd spoken to him, telling him that it was nothing, that nothing had happened, he'd simply smiled tightly and told her that he believed her.

She wasn't sure if that was true or not.

She and Dean started drifting apart. She stopped asking about staying at his apartment overnight and they stopped joking around and spending every moment together. The entire tone of the band's friendship turned dour, and their performances suffered for it.

After the third day, Meg pulled Y/N aside. She asked, in the nicest way possible, what the hell was going on. Y/N had smiled sadly and softly and shrugged.

Meg never got a straight answer.

A week later, Y/N stood in the hallway once more, alone. She hadn't had a chance to go back to Crowley's office and things had been quiet. At least, quiet enough for Y/N to not hear anything of worth to report.

Honestly, though, she hadn't really been trying. She was focused solely on her band.

Chuck had shrugged and nodded when she had spoken to him about it, acquiescing that he'd noticed the shift in their dynamic too. He'd suggested talking to Gabe himself, but she'd stopped that.

Last thing she needed was yet another person in on her secret.

Instead, the tension festered like an open wound between them all.

The door opened with a creak as Y/N finally threw her coat over her shoulders. She turned to see Gabe closing the door behind him as he entered. His hazel eyes glared at her, narrowing ever so slightly.

She squared her shoulders and turned back to the mirror she was standing in front of. She busied herself by making sure she looked good as she spoke as nonchalantly as possible, "What can I do ya for, Gabe?"

"You have to tell him, doll."

"No idea what you're talkin' 'bout," she sighed lightly, turning towards Gabe. She smiled insincerely. "Excuse me, but I'm going home." She said as she tried to breeze past him.

His hand shot out and grabbed her arm, holding her in place. The glare he gave her would've killed a lesser man. "You tell Dean about this thing, or I will."

"You shut your face," she hissed quietly. "This would kill Dean, and you know it."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, you should've thought 'bout that earlier."

She wrenched her arm from him, tilting her chin up in defiance. "Don't you dare. He's the whole reason I'm doing this."

Gabe shook his head. "Yeah, yeah, I know…just…you gotta promise me you'll be careful. You don't meet with him a lot, do you?"

"Every Friday morning."

He laughed humorlessly. "Well, when you see him tomorrow, tell 'im I said hi."

She huffed out a laugh at that. "I'm sure he'd love to talk to you, too."

"Thanks, but no thanks."

"Worth a shot."

Gabe wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close for a hug. "You be safe, okay doll?"

She patted his arm before pulling herself from his embrace. "You're a real good egg, Gabe."

"I know."

She bid him goodbye before she walked out the door and into the hallway.

"Morning, sweetheart!"

Y/N smiled warmly at Ellen as the singer walked into the small diner. "Good morning, Ellen. It's lovely to see you."

Ellen turned to her cook and barked, "Y/N's here: her usual, Ash!"

Ash, a man who looked like he camped out at soup kitchens, shouted from the kitchen, "Got it!"

Y/N thanked Ash as she walked over to the table in the back, taking her usual seat. By the time Agent Singer arrived, Ellen's daughter, Jo, was dropping the small plate off. The singer thanked the waitress. Jo had only begun working this shift in the last week or two, so Y/N wasn't as close with her as she was with Ellen, but she seemed nice enough. In fact, the moment she saw Agent Singer sit down with her, Jo had immediately begun to be infinitely nicer to her, not that she had been rude before. She must've known that working with the feds meant she was living on borrowed time and was trying to be kind, and Y/N was grateful for that.

Y/N dug into her small breakfast (she was still too nervous at every meeting to eat a full, real meal), getting about halfway through it before he joined her.

He grunted out a gruff greeting. Ellen could be heard yelling Agent Singer's order out to Ash in a similar manner to how she had a few minutes earlier. Ash was like a culinary magician, because the usual coffee, eggs, and bacon were being brought out by Jo by the time Agent Singer had peeled off his overcoat, hung it up, and sat down.

Y/N and Bobby began discussions. She asked how his investigation with the bank she'd given him was going. He'd grumbled out that banks were so stupidly secretive with their clients' account information, so it was going to take a little while.

She'd sort of deflated at that. Without realizing until that very moment, she'd hoped that that one bit of information would be enough to take him down, that they would be free and clear. I'm such a sap, she shook her head at her own naivety.

They spoke a little more, but Y/N had little to report, which cut their meeting short.

Agent Singer offered to give her cab fare, make sure she got back to her hazard of a hotel safely. She thanked him, but declined. "I could use the walk. Ash's tryin' to fatten me up, I swear!" she'd joked.

Ash had shouted a vague sound of agreement from the kitchen, which made her smile and the other girls chuckle. Agent Singer had eyed her, as he was wont to do, trying to make sure that she was confident in her decision.

She waved them off, leaving Agent Singer behind to finish enjoying his breakfast and ineptly flirt some more with Ellen. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, trying to get some warmth into them. Even if it was finally June and summer was peeking through, that did nothing to warm her so early in the morning.

She walked the few miles back to her motel, content in the quiet. Not that anything could ever be truly quiet in Chicago. The hustle and bustle of city life made sure that there was a constant symphony of sound underlying everything, and she loved it. It made her feel less alone.

She smiled when she saw her dinky motel's sign high in the sky, beckoning to her.

A smile that fell when she saw a familiar car sitting in the parking lot, with a familiar figure leaning against it. Her Y/E/C eyes met the beautiful hunter green eyes of her pianist, and he gave her a sarcastic, strained smile. "Looks like you've got some explaining to do, huh?"