Originally, I was going to split this up into two chapters and upload them a day apart. But, screw it. Enjoy this massive chapter and leave a review if you're feeling kind enough!

Note: I still only own my Ashley.

My limbs were stiff and aching when I woke up. I gingerly stretched them and immediately noticed something was wrong. The bed was cold and empty– where was Dean? Before I could do anything, something dropped on the bed and pressed up against my back. "It's me," he murmured. I relaxed back against him and he slung an arm over my ribs. "How are you doing?"

"My arms and legs are stiff and I'm still sore, but I'm getting better." I realized that he had his jacket on and my legs were rubbing up against denim, "where'd you go?"

"Talked to Cas."

"Mmm, good."

"I'd rather have stayed with you."

"I know." He pressed his lips against the back of my neck, "I don't like leaving you."

"Then don't leave," I slid my hand into his.

"Hey, let's go do something."

"Like what?"

"Wanna go for a drive?"

"Where?"

"You'll see, I wanna show you something." I rolled over to face him, "show me what?"

"C'mon," he grinned as he sat up, "you'll see."

"Dean," I whined, "tell me." He leaned over me and pressed his lips to mine. Just before I could slip my tongue into his mouth, he pulled away, making me whimper at the loss. He chuckled and planted open-mouthed kisses down my neck. "I've barely seen you all day, Dean."

"Then let's go. How bout this; you can have me all to yourself once we get there."

"Deal," I replied too fast and blushed. He smirked, "I take it you've missed me?" I pulled him over me and ran my hands down his back and under his shirt. "Damn right, even when I was sleeping. I wished you were pressed up against me– that I could feel all your muscles. I wanted to feel your mouth on mine and your hands sliding down my back. You're hips grinding against mine and my legs getting tangled in yours. I missed all of you." His eyes darkened and he let out a low moan. "Do you have any idea how hard your making it for me to stay off you right now?" He growled in my ear. "Sorry, babe," I slid my hands down his bare back and felt him shudder, "I'll get dressed so we can go." I was a bit wobbly as I stood up, Dean's arm hovering readily around my waist, but other than that I was fine. I bent over to pick up my jeans, giving him a nice view of my ass in the process. "Son of a bitch," he muttered under his breathe. I stood up and my back pressed up against chest as he wrapped his arms around my waist. "You're killing me here, Angel." Deciding to tease him a little more, I rubbed up against the front of his jeans. "Shit," he groaned and dropped his head on my shoulder. "What's wrong, babe?"

"You are so paying for this when you get better."

"I know," I smirked as I turned to face him. I pulled at the belt loops on his jeans, fully aware of him watching my every move. "Y'know," I looked up at him through my lashes, "I could take care of this for you."

"But, uh, you're hurt," he stammered. "My hands aren't." He closed his eyes and struggled to keep his breathing even. "C'mon, Dean, don't you want my hands on you?" His jaw tightened and he was breathing heavily now. I slid my hands over his hips and stood up on my toes to get close to his ear. "Or maybe, my tongue? My mouth?" I flicked my tongue over his neck, tasting his salty skin. "Sucking? Licking? Both?" He moaned loudly, making me shudder as I realized how much my words were affecting him. "Are you trying to make me go insane?" He tilted my chin up to meet his hungry eyes, "do you have any idea how badly you're turning me on right now, just by talking?" I shifted so my leg was between his, pressing against him. "Yeah, I've got a pretty good idea," I said smugly as he whimpered and rolled his hips. "Ashley," his eyes were dark as they met mine, "stop. We can't do this– Sam's right outside." Recognizing the warning in his eyes, I backed up slowly, afraid of what would happen if I didn't stop. "Hey, you okay?" I nodded, not wanting to piss him off like last time. He took a step towards me and I automatically flinched. "Angel, what's wrong?" He took another step and I cowered against the wall. I started shaking, afraid that he was going to get mad and yell at me again. He crouched down next to me and gently put his hand on my shoulder. I jumped at the touch and hoped he wouldn't shove me back against the wall. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry–" I stammered. "Angel," he looked at me worriedly. "I'm sorry, please. Please don't yell at me. I'm sorry. You were right, please don't shove me or yell. I'm sorry."

"Angel, no, that's not–" he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "I was wrong to yell at you. I'm not ever going to do it again, okay? Just because I get mad, doesn't mean I'm gonna shove you or yell." He stroked my cheek lightly, "I promise. Please don't be scared of me." I slowly relaxed under his touch, trusting him. I threw my arms around his neck, crying out as pain shot through my side. He pulled me back to look over me frantically. "Are you okay?" I nodded and buried my face in his neck. "You have to be more careful," he murmured. "I know, I will. Are we still going?"

"We don't have to if you're hurting, I can show you another time." I shook my head, "I'm fine. I wanna see what all the fuss is about." I stood up slowly, pulling him up with me. "You sure?" I nodded, "I'm fine, really." I pulled on my clothes and grabbed my jacket. "Ready?" His eyes were sparking with excitement. "What could you possibly want to show me to get you so excited?"

"I told you, you'll see." With that, he grabbed my hand and lead me out to the impala.

O.o

"Dean," I whined as I tried to figure out where we were. He had driven for a while, slowly making his way out of the city. Eventually, he pulled off onto a dirt road and stopped the car. It was pitch dark, making it even harder to see that we were in the middle of a field. "What do you want to show me? There's nothing out here." I heard him chuckle and he stepped in front of me. "That's because you're not looking in the right place," he tilted my chin up and I saw them– hundreds upon hundreds of stars that couldn't be seen over the lights of the city. A slow smile spread across my face, "this is what you wanted to show me?"

"Yeah," he said quietly and I looked back down at him. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and kept his gaze glued to the ground. "I know– it's stupid. But you were stuck in the motel room all day, and I figured you wanted to get out, and," he trailed off as he started blushing. I slipped my hand into his and kissed his cheek, "Dean, I love it."

"You do?"

"Of course I do," I pressed my lips against his, "it's perfect."

"Really?" His eyes lit up with happiness. "Yes, really." He grinned and dragged me over to the impala. Pulling me down next to him, I rested my head against his shoulder– our fingers still intertwined. "Thanks, Dean. This is amazing." My heart suddenly swelled, filling me with so much happiness that I wanted to cry. I wished I could stay here forever. Laying next to the man I loved, trying to count the endless stars, all night long. "Isn't it weird?" He asked randomly as he looked over at me. "What?"

"You know everything about me, you practically watched me grow up. But, I still don't know anything about you. I don't know your birthday, where you grew up– hell, I don't even know your full name. Yet, somehow," he smiled, "I've managed to fall in love with you."

"Okay, my name is Ashley Rose Fisher, I was born November 14, 1985, and I grew up in Redding, California."

"Wait, hold on," he concentrated and flicked his fingers, "you're only 23?"

"I'm 26, babe."

"No, you're 23," he recounted on his fingers. "Dean, I know how old I am."

"If you were 26, that means this year would be 2011."

"It is."

"Angel, it's 2008." I stared at him for a few moments before I spoke, "I guess I am 23, then." He chuckled and pressed his lips to the top of my head. "Tell me more."

"What do you wanna know?" He asked me question after question. What was my childhood like? What was my favorite color? Who was my first boyfriend and what was he like? I told him my whole life, smiling at all the memories. "What about your parents?" I knew the question was coming, but I still froze and drew in a sharp breathe. "Hey, you don't have to tell me, Angel. It's fine, I get it."

"They're gone," I mumbled. He didn't press for more or ask another question, he just held my hand and waited. "I was twelve. Mom was mad about something, I can't ever remember what it was. We were driving on the highway and it was pouring down rain. She got mad and lost control. We slid and spun into the other lane and that's when the car hit us." He reached over and gently wiped away my tears. "Some stupid little thing she was mad about, Dean. That's what got her killed and I can't even remember what it was." I met his sad gaze as he squeezed my hand. He leaned down and lightly pressed his lips to mine. I kissed him slowly, his soft lips comforting me in a way that his words couldn't. It was his way of telling me to take what I needed, that he was here for me. "You don't have to tell me anything else if you don't want to," he soothed. "I want you to know." He of all people should understand that. I started talking again after he nodded. "Ever since Mom had died, it was hard since my dad was the only one working and I was too young. But I eventually got a job and scraped up enough money to go off to college during my senior year– everything seemed to be finally getting better. Then one day out of the blue, two officers pull me out of class and tell me that Dad's been shot and he's not gonna make it. He always used to say that if he died on the job, he wanted to be stopping the bad guy or something cool like that. All he was doing was arresting some guy for stealing and he pulled a gun on him. He got shot in the stomach, and had already lost too much blood by the time the ambulance got there. That's it, a damn robber killed my dad, Dean. Just one, stupid guy who happened to have a gun." I forced myself to take a deep breathe as my nightmares flashed through my head. Sitting up, I ran a hand through my hair and fought back tears. He sat up next to me, pulling me into his lap and rubbing small circles on my lower back. I closed my eyes as his warm lips brushed over my jaw and neck. "I love you," he murmured.

"Love you too, Dean." I grinned stupidly at him as happiness washed over me. "What's gotten you so happy?"

"I don't know– I just am, there's no reason. Actually, that's been happening a lot lately, now that I think about it."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, when you were mad after I said you let Samhains get away, I got mad for no reason. Then, when we first laid down, I got really happy after I said that this was amazing. Just now, when I said I loved you I got all happy again. I don't know, it's like I'm feeling what you're feeling."

"Nah, it's just because you saw me mad, that you got mad. Same thing for when I was happy." I shook my head, "no, it's something else, Dean. When we laid down, I couldn't even see you." I closed my eyes, "I'll prove it, think of something."

"Fine, but it's not gonna work." At first, nothing happened. Then I was filled with horrible sadness and loss– I thought my heart was going to be ripped out of my chest. There was something else, but I couldn't figure it out. I grabbed his hand, thinking it might be stronger with touch. I gasped as an image of Dean flashed through my head. He looked like hell, his eyes had dark circles under them, like he hasn't slept in weeks. His face was unshaven and his clothes were torn apart. A bottle of whiskey sloshed in his hand as his body racked with sobs. My eyes snapped open and I ran my hands up his chest and neck, making sure he was okay. "What the hell were you thinking about?" His eyes met my gaze, "you looked like shit."

"You saw me?"

"Yeah, when I grabbed your hand. You were sitting on a bed or something and you looked like absolute shit."

"Well, that's how I think I would look if I ever lost you."

"Dean," I tangled my fingers into his hair and brought his mouth down to mine. I slid my tongue over his bottom lip and he happily opened his mouth. He moved his tongue with mine, moaning as I gently tugged his hair. "So you can see inside my head, huh?"

"Only when I touch you, apparently. I can only feel what you're feeling if it's a strong emotion." He smirked and put my hands on the sides of his face. I closed my eyes and watched. It was a dark room in what looked like a hotel. I could see Dean in the bed, his back muscles rippling as he rocked into me. My hands were gripping his shoulders as I arched into him and panted his name over and over again. He let out small moans as he sucked his way down my neck, leaving faint marks. The image suddenly flickered, then disappeared completely and all I could hear were my moans. I realized that I was moaning, quite loudly, and rocking my hips against his as much as I could without hurting my side. I flushed red and dropped my head against his chest. His heart was pounding and I looked up at him. He had his eyes closed with his head tilted slightly up, breathing heavily. "Dean?"

"I'm fine, give me a minute," he panted. I shifted my hips so I wasn't leaning on him so much, and he threw his head back and howled. "Don't move," he whimpered, "shit, Angel." I slid my hands down his chest, "let me help."

"No," he gasped and grabbed my wrists, "I wouldn't last five seconds." He groaned and balled up his hands. "Okay, think about something else, then." He sucked in a sharp breathe and bucked his hips. I winced as he moaned and slammed back against the hood. "A-Ashley," he whimpered as he arched his back. I leaned forward and forced his mouth open, making him moan. He tugged his jeans down, "Angel, please." Losing the last shreds of control I had left, I crushed my mouth to his and freed him from his boxers. He moaned and lifted his hips as I wrapped my hand around his hard arousal. He clenched his teeth together and I slowly moved my hand. "Angel," he panted, "please, more. So close." Making my way down, I trailed my tongue up his length and took him into my mouth. He gasped and desperately grabbed at the sides of the impala as his legs started trembling. "Shit, I'm gonna–" he stopped abruptly and groaned as I sucked lightly. His harsh cries pierced the air as he arched off the car and came into my mouth. I switched my mouth for my hand as he lay, boneless, on the hood and tried to regain his breathe. Still stroking him slowly, I pressed soft kisses on his neck and lips. "Holy shit, Angel." I slid my hands up his chest and looked at him nervously– I had never done anything like that before. "Did you-?" My voice grew quiet as I hesitated. He looked at me curiously, but didn't say anything. "I mean," I bit my lip, "was it good?" He smiled, "yeah, it was good, Angel. Hell, that was amazing." I shivered as a breeze swirled around the back of my neck and cheeks. "Cold?" I nodded and smiled when he motioned to the spot next to him. I curled into his side as he hitched his pants up and wrapped an arm around me. "Don't even think about trying to show me this when were around Sam."

"Wouldn't even try," he chuckled. I looked up at the stars, smiling as I realized I would never be able to look at them again without thinking about Dean. I ended up watching the sky longer than I intended to. When I looked back at Dean, his eyes were closed and he was snoring lightly. For once, he didn't look sad or worried or angry. He rolled over onto his stomach in his sleep, his cheek resting on my shoulder and an arm thrown over my ribs. I shivered in delight as his warm side pressed up against mine and his hot breathe drifted across my neck. Kissing his forehead, I soaked up his warmth for a few more minutes before I moved to wake him up.

O.o

"Dean," I murmured softly and rubbed his back. He stretched lazily as his eyes fluttered open. "Hmm?"

"Ready to go back? You look tired."

"I'm fine," he yawned. "How long did you sleep for last night?" He shrugged, "I got my four hours."

"Would it kill you to sleep for a full night?"

"You don't think I want that?" He snapped, suddenly angry, "I would love to be able to sleep through a whole night. But every night it's the same damn thing– barely sleep and then wake up from a nightmare. It's not my fault that I can't sleep for more than a few hours at a time." He took a deep breathe and raked a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, I just– I'm tired, that's all."

"Dean, why don't you wake me up if you're having nightmares?"

"It's not your problem."

"That doesn't mean I don't want to help you."

"Forget about it. I'm fine, really." He started to get up, but I sat on his hips and pinned down his shoulders. "You're not fine, Dean, I can see it in your eyes. You're not sleeping and it's wearing you down. I know you don't like asking for help, but this is killing you, babe. You can't run around on a few hours of sleep and try to drink the nightmares away." He looked at me for a moment, then turned away. "Dean," I cupped his cheek and he closed his eyes. "Dean, please, don't shut me out. I love you, I want to help you."

"Angel," he choked out as his eyes grew wet. I looked at him helplessly, "tell me what's going on, baby. Let me help you." He pressed my hand more firmly against his cheek and a series of images flashed through my head. Mary's body, engulfed in flames, on the ceiling. John, with multiple nurses around him, struggling to bring him back. Sam, limp in Dean's arms. Dean ripping souls apart one by one as Alistair watches from behind him. Me, laying unconscious on a couch as Sam stitches my side. Hooks and chains holding Dean in place as he slowly gets torn to pieces. Alistair cutting and carving away at me, while Dean watches helplessly. Dean shoving me back and yelling at me. Dean sobbing with a phone pressed to his ear as he flys down a road. Dean kneeling next to me on the couch, holding my limp hand with tears streaming down his face as Sam looks at him sadly. I opened my eyes and looked at Dean. Tears slid down his cheeks as his whole body shook and he gripped my hand tightly. "I can't sleep," he whimpered. I didn't know what to do, I'd never seen Dean this scared before. "Tell me what you need."

"You, I need you," he reached out to me.

"I'm right here, babe."

He sat up and desperately clung to me– burying his face into the crook of my neck. "It'll be okay, Dean. We'll figure it out somehow, I promise. I'm here for you, I love you so much." I tried to soothe him as he trembled in my arms. "I hurt so many people."

"Stop blaming yourself, everyone makes mistakes."

"I got people killed, Ashley, and every night I have to see it all over again." I pulled him back and put my hands on the sides of his face as he sobbed. "I d-don't know what to do anymore." I trailed kisses from his forehead, going down his cheeks and onto his neck. He closed his eyes, melting against me as I rubbed his hips with my thumbs. Tilting his head up, he pressed his lips to mine. I kissed him back, letting him take what he needed, and wiped the tears off his cheeks. "We're gonna go back to the motel and you're gonna let me take care of you, okay?"

"Okay."

O.o

By the time we got inside the room, he was physically swaying with exhaustion. I sat him down on the edge of the bed and pushed off his jacket and boots. He seemed to get the idea, pulling his flannel and shirt off and wriggling out of his jeans. His eyes fell shut as he kicked his way under the covers. I stripped down to my underwear and slid into the bed next to him. He pulled me back against his chest, spooning me and lazily draping his leg over mine. I put my hand over his, smiling as I heard him snoring already. I hoped and prayed that he wouldn't have another nightmare tonight. We couldn't keep falling apart like this, and a nightmare certainly wouldn't help anything. I closed my eyes and tried to clear my head from worrying about Dean and keeping myself together. The next thing I knew, I was being shaken awake. "Ashley," I could hear the pain in his voice and my heart sank. "I'm here, Dean." I murmured as I turned to face him. He was on the verge of tears and had dark circles under his eyes. "What do you need, babe?"

"I don't know," his lip quivered. "Hey, it's okay. We'll figure it out, I'll help you." I looked at him sadly, I had no idea what to do– how to help him. He was so much better at this than I was. I stroked his cheek softly, not knowing what else to do. He sniffled and leaned into my hand, his face tight with pain. "Dean," I pleaded helplessly. He closed his eyes and tears spilled out. Desperate to do something, I started to sing softly, "Home, let me come home, home is wherever I'm with you.

Our home, yes I'm home, home is when I'm alone with you." He was watching me intently and nudged into my hand when I stopped, "no, keep going." I smiled slightly and continued, "Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my Ma and Pa,

Moats and boats and waterfalls,

Alleyways and pay phone calls.

Home is when I'm alone with you,

Home is when I'm alone with you." he slid his hand into mine as his eyelids dropped. "Love you," he slurred. "Love you too, Dean."

"Angel?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm home."