*quietly introduces a ship I didn't know I needed until I started planning this fic.

Dean was grinning widely as he leaned on River, his arm around her shoulders as the two of them stumbled like they were in a three-legged race on the way out the door. He was seriously enjoying the sound of her laugh and the tickle of her bushy hair on his nose as he leaned in and kissed her cheek.

"C'mon," he said in a low, throaty voice that usually got him what he wanted—and at least had River laughing at him. "You're the one looking for privacy."

"You're drunk," River laughed.

"Everything important is still working," Dean argued.

River laughed again and turned her head to kiss his cheek in return. "You're definitely my type," she said, still smiling.

"And you brought me all this way just to get me drunk…" Dean smiled a little bit wider. One of his arms was around her shoulders, but the other he pulled around her waist until he had turned her to face him so he could kiss her properly—and she absolutely didn't slow him down, either.

"I did, didn't I?" River said, sliding her arms over his shoulders.

"Guy's gonna get an impression that way," Dean said without pulling far back from her mouth, speaking against her lips before he kissed her again until she retaliated with a much more passionate kiss that had him backing up a step until his back hit the wall and he was laughing as soon as he got a breath.

River paused and then smirked at him. "You think you can handle it?"

"I know I can."

River's smirk broke into a smile before she grabbed his hand, pulling him along—since she was the one that actually knew where they were going. "Prove it."

…..

Dean hadn't expected the metal to feel so cold in his hand.

In Hell, everything was fire and pain, and he was so used to being coated in sweat and blood and saltwater that he'd forgotten what cold felt like.

That on its own was enough to stop him in his tracks. He was down from the rack, and that was a relief, yes, but the fact that something as simple as cold felt like a balm… that spoke to just how bad things had been these last years.

"You're not backing out, are you?"

Dean closed his eyes and closed his fist around the metal instrument, steadfastly not looking behind him. If he did, he'd see the face of the demon who had been torturing him, who had now promised to teach him all the best ways to cause pain, to make people beg for mercy.

"No," Dean said. "Just enjoying being on the other side of this."

"Good."

Dean nodded once, then twice, then turned back to the guy on the rack, who was shaking and sobbing. He'd been somebody in another life, but now he was reduced to this, a quivering mass of flesh.

Dean thought about hesitating. He did. But he was so tired of getting torn apart, and he didn't know if this promise of freedom would last if he equivocated. For all he knew, this was a one-time offer that they made everyone in Hell, and the ones who didn't take it stayed on the hooks for eternity.

He wasn't willing to take that chance. He'd resigned himself to Hell for Sam, and now his brother was out there in the world and safe and alive. He'd done his part, and now, well, now he was stuck. It didn't matter anymore what he did. He might as well follow Hell's orders the way he'd followed his dad's. He'd always been a tool and a weapon, right?

He frowned down at the shaking, crying man in front of him, then flicked out the knife in his hand. He didn't need to be told where to start. He remembered how the demons had cut into him before.

The blood he spilled was warm as it trickled down the side of his hands. Of course it was. Everything in Hell was warm.

Except the tools of the trade.

When Dean woke up, he was sweaty and out of breath and half tangled in the sheets. It took him a long time to get his breath and his bearings, and honestly, he was grateful to River that she didn't try to touch him to calm him down. He was sure he would have lashed out at any physical contact when his mind was still back in Hell.

He ran both hands down his face while River sat with her back against the headboard, quietly watching him lose his cool. That part he was more bothered by, because he didn't want her thinking he couldn't handle himself. But then again, this woman had known exactly when to come and get him when he'd just come back to the land of the living…

"So," he said slowly, "how much do you know?"

"All of it," River told him honestly—she obviously didn't see any point in sugarcoating it or lying to him, which was something he had always appreciated about her, even if they'd only met a few times before.

"Great."

"It's still fresh. I'm not surprised you're dreaming about it," River said, though when Dean frowned hard at the tone of her voice, she smirked and slipped into a silkier whisper. "But I'm a little bit insulted you weren't dreaming of something better," she teased.

"Not that I'm complaining, but is that what this was? Pity?"

River shook her head, still smiling, and then leaned her head on his shoulder, sliding her arms around his waist. "I'm not that kind of girl."

"Wouldn't really know. We're just getting to know each other. And I honestly thought you had a thing for the Doctor—or is that not a thing where you are in your timeline?" Dean shook his head. "Man, I forgot how confusing that is."

River smirked. "You get used to it."

"Yeah, just working on getting back in the saddle."

"You're doing fine." River kissed his cheek. "And yes, I do have a thing for the Doctor. Thank you for noticing."

"Seems to be a pattern," Dean muttered.

"Aww, don't be jealous," River said and kissed him fully. "It's not your fault. I tried to kill him first. How can a girl resist?"

Dean smirked at that. "Somehow, I'm not surprised."

"You really shouldn't be," River said, pulling him into a much longer kiss and smiling against his mouth the whole time. "Now, are you going to keep bringing up another man while you could be having a fling with me? Because if so, I might have to check to make sure you haven't been replaced by an android. I wouldn't complain—I've dated a few—but you might be put out…"

Dean laughed at that and pushed her back against the pillows. "Yeah, definitely gonna need to check. Thoroughly."

River's grin turned more crooked, and the next thing either of them knew, they were getting tangled up all over again, and Dean forgot for the time being about the dream that had woken him up in the first place.