You stared at the two duffel bags sitting by your door…. With clothes and everything Eva had not broken… You took a deep breath. And your eyes stung.

5 months… who knew what was supposed to be a temporary home would end up being in the running for the longest house you'd stayed in since you escaped your father. You had stayed in your apartment by Dr. Myla for almost 6 months, but the bunker was getting there.

It never will get there, you try to convince yourself. They don't want you anymore.

You felt the tears threaten to fall, but you would not let them. And you thought back to everything. Stupid movie nights, and the strange conversations you had with Cas about the universe, and Jack making you hot chocolate, and Sam laughing when you said something sarcastic. You thought back to meeting Mary, and Jody, and the time Jack brought you a rose.

"Y/N?"

You thought of yesterday when Jack kissed you, how he cried when he thought you were dead, and how he hugged you when Cas finally helped you down from the balcony.

"Oh, hey Jack." You turned your head away from the door, worried about what he'd do if he realized you were close to crying. And maybe, a part of you knew that if you looked at him, you would start crying. "What's up?"

"Sam said you were staying?"

Sam walked in while you were packing.

"Hey Y/N. Dean's doing much better now. He's in… What are you doing?"

"Packing," you said simply.

"Where are you going?"

You shrugged. "I'm not too sure yet. But don't worry. I've been in worse situations. I'll get by."

He shook his head. "You're leaving?"

"Yep. My job is done, isn't it?"

"Y/N, you can't just leave. We need you here."

You picked up your duffel bag. "Why do you need me? I was just here to help you save Dean. You have Dean now. You've got Jack. And Cas. I figured I should leave before I overstay my welcome."

"Y/N, I told you when you got here that you could not overstay your welcome and I meant it. You've been such a great help to us and we consider you like our family now. You're my little sister, Y/N. Don't leave me."

You took the statement like a smack to the face… Family?

You stumbled to find the words. "I… I- but I… Why?"

Sam reached out and put his hands on your shoulders. "If you want to go Y/N, you can go. But at least wait until you have somewhere to go. And warn us before you go." He pulled the bag from your shoulder and put it with the other one by the door. "And call us. Everyday if you can. Jack especially. He'll be heartbroken when he finds out you want to leave."

You knew what Sam was doing. He was trying to guilt you into staying. But why?

"Or," he added, "you could stay." He walked to your door and spared you one last glance. "No one's kicking you out Y/N. And I can't speak for Cas and Jack, but I'd really appreciate it if you stayed."

He walked out. And you sat on the bed, staring at the two duffel bags at your door.

"Yeah," you said to Jack. "He convinced me to hang out for a while. I don't have anywhere else to go anyway… Did you need something?"

He shuffled a little bit in the doorway. "Dean told us about your deal. I just wanted to make sure you were feeling okay?"

Dean had told the boys about your conversation with Death. Everything except the reason she wouldn't let you die. He didn't tell them that you were "important" or that you had a fixed death. Only that she had let both of you go.

"What deal? Death refused to make a deal with me."

"You got Dean back," Jack reasoned.

You chuckled. "Dean was probably going to come back either way. I hear that's just how the Winchester boys do things."

There was a hesitation in Jack's voice before he went on. "Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"Dean says you risked your life."

"I was already dead," you tried. But something told you he wouldn't believe that.

"No, Dean said you attached your life to his to make a deal. You offered Death your life."

You stood up to look Jack in the eye. "Why do you care Jack?"

"Because I love you!"

You froze. You didn't know what to do. Should you back down? Tell him to stop? Confess your own feelings…

You shook your head. Son of Lucifer. But something in you fought that little voice that kept trying to remind you what you were living with. Hunter. Angel. Nephilim. Something in you told you that you shouldn't be afraid of these people you called your friends. And for some reason, you wanted that something to win.

"What? Jack, nobody loves me."

"I do. You're my family Y/N, and I love you."

… Family? Somehow, that was everything you wanted in life and the worst news you could possibly hear. Maybe you had read too much into your's and Jack's relationship. But maybe this was good… Getting attached was never good.

You've already hurt these people enough, you told yourself. They almost lost their brother because of you. And it will be bad enough to say goodbye now. If you wait this out much longer, you won't be able to say goodbye.

"You shouldn't."

"What did that kiss mean to you?" he snapped.

Or maybe you hadn't read enough.

"That kiss was… a mistake." You stumbled through your words. "You shouldn't care about me."

"Why not?"

You wanted to leave, but he was standing in front of the door. And you could tell he was doing it on purpose. He needs a straight answer, Y/N.

"Because I'm a monster," you said finally.

He shook his head, not as if to disagree, but more like he was annoyed. You thought that was the end of the conversation, but he still stood in your doorframe, staring at the floor.

He sighed and you could see all his features soften. And you basically melted when he looked back at you.

"I talked to Sam. About… my feelings. I don't fully understand them yet, but I do understand this: I love you. I love you so much and I was so scared you were going to go that I kissed you. And I would do it again. I would kiss you a thousand times more if I could."

You were a goner.

"Jack I-"

"Sam called it dating," he continued. You giggled slightly at the thought of Jack talking to Sam about relationships. Jack talked to Sam about you. "He said I'd be your boyfriend. And I'd like to be your boyfriend. I'd be a good boyfriend!" he insisted. "I'd protect you and pick more flowers for you and do everything you want me to."

You walked towards him. "I'm sure you would, Jack. I know you would."

"So why don't you say yes?"

You held his eyes, but the truth of it was too much to say to his face. "My father trained me to be strong. To forget about anyone I ever cared about."

Jack took your hands in his and squeezed them gently. "Our fathers are dead."

"Maybe physically. But they damage they did is not. I don't want to hurt you."

And as much as you wanted to back away, you knew that the something in your head had won… And maybe you could be happy, just for once. So, when Jack pulled you into a hug, you didn't back away.

"You won't, Y/N. I promise you. I know you. You won't."

And you believed him.

In three days, nothing had changed and yet you were so much happier. You and Jack had the same morning routine and the same interactions with each other that you would have had before you started dating, but for some reason, your heart felt so much lighter and every smile between the two of you seemed to hold a hundred words.

You hadn't told the others, but you were 90% sure Sam knew. He'd chuckle when he saw you two looking at each other and you were pretty sure you saw him wink at Jack once.

Things hadn't changed too much since Dean got back. Cas was a bit brighter and Sam a bit calmer, but you hadn't seen much of Dean himself.

Healing, you assumed. No doubt it was a bit scarring to be Michael's vessel for 7 months.

He did leave his room. Often times you'd find him with Cas, sitting around talking. Occasionally the two of you would catch each other's eyes, but you hadn't spoken since the encounter with Death.

So, it was no doubt a bit shocking to you when he approached you one day, alone in the library.

You spared him a questioning glance and went back to the book you were reading, but he didn't give up so quick. He sat across from you and stared with an intimidating gaze. You could feel yourself pull back, but you wouldn't. Because this wasn't Michael. This was Dean. And if the others boys in this house cared so much about him, you had no reason to be scared.

"Hello Dean." Your voice shook a little bit. "I heard you were doing better. I hope you don't mind me living here-"

"Yeah, much better," he assured you, but you sensed some sarcasm in his words. You tried to go on, but he had more to say. "What did Billie mean?"

"Billie?"

"Death," he said. You vaguely remembered him calling her that during your encounter, but honestly most of the conversation had been a blur after you had woken up. "She said you 'only have one notebook and you know it'. What's that supposed to mean?"

You tried to shrug it off, not wanting to admit the truth yet. Not now. "It just means I met Death before and found out how I was going to die."

"Why did you meet Death?" he questioned.

"Why did you?" you shot back. "I mean, obviously you guys have met if you're on a first name basis. Isn't there some saying about flirting with Death…"

You chuckled slightly and he didn't seem so serious anymore either, but you hadn't dodged the bullet yet. "Y/N. When and why are you going to die?"

"Why do you want to know?" The issue was, you had been living here almost half a year and you hadn't told anyone yet. And you were supposed to tell Dean? The guy who showed up three days ago?

"Because when we woke up your face said, 'don't talk about what just happened', so obviously the others don't know. I just want to know why?"

His eyes held good intentions. The man in front of you wasn't doing this for something to hold against you. He was just looking out for his family.

"... do you promise not to tell them?"

"No," he admitted blandly. "I can't make that promise until I know what's going on."

You shrugged. "Fair enough, I guess."

"So… when are you going to die?"

"I don't know when exactly. Doctor's say about a year, but I'm sure it's less now that I've stopped getting treatment."

He sat up straight. "Treatment for what?"

"Lung cancer."