Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Dean sadly

Third book in my Found series I recommend reading the others but if you choose not to Elizabeth is Dean's girlfriend from the past who is back in his life.

Chapter 1:

Love. The most complicated word in the dictionary. Nobody can seem to agree on a simple sentence in which to describe this one word. How could they? With all the different ways love plays out around us and in us. Twisting feelings into a hideous mess or pounding things into beautiful masterpieces. Crooked smiles across the room over taking fake pure white grins and looping arms. With all the ways a person can use love for their benefit or demise. Jealousy, hate, longing, pain, loneliness, misery, if your one of the many who have been burned. Passion, fulfillment, wholeness, joy, if you are one of the few in cupid's arms. Then again that is not exactly how we choose to describe it. Even though few of us have experienced the great love in story books that is exactly how we choose to explain it. For most of us it's like princess' or mermaids. This perfect and enchanting thing with no raw emotion. Mixing words until they have twisted into something un real, something impossible. Somehow we say I love you too much. Most of us don't actually mean it, sometimes we don't even know we don't mean it. Somehow we don't say I love you enough because too many of the people in this world can't find that one person or accidently let them go out of fear.

But a few of us get lucky. We find the exact words to describe love, but it's our love. We can't describe any other human being's. So yes the most complicated and messed up word is the one we think of most and block out most. Just five letters brimming with the questions of the world. Love.

Dean snapped open his phone as it buzzed annoyingly on the side table beside him. His bleary eyes finally able to focus on the small object long enough for his sleep deprived fingers to grasp its slippery plastic. The vibrations stopped right as he flipped it open and he groaned inwardly before straightening. His bare chest hitting fresh air and sending a chill of ice down his spine. Elizabeth lay next to him, curled in a ball and dead asleep like always. She could keep her eyes shut through anything. One morning he woke up to a blasting radio just to find her sprawled on the floor fast asleep.

He stared down on the phone for a few minutes before actually reading who the call had been from. Lisa. Dean hadn't seen her since had to leave her to go back hunting. Again he glanced at Elizabeth feeling an awkward cloud already start to suffocate him, squeezing the air out of his lungs with a smug smirk. Silently he slid off the bed and traipsed into the bathroom closing the door behind him and leaning into it heavily before flipping his phone open. 'call back'

Ring ring rin…

"Hello?" the familiar voice greeted on the other end a small hint of exasperation coating the voice.

"Hey, it's Dean, you kind of called me." He stuttered awkwardly over the words pinching the bridge of his nose while he squeezed his eyes shut trying to run a conversation in his mind. He heard her stuttered breathe and hesitant beginning.

"Yeah I did." She hummed leaving an awkward silence hanging; Dean rubbed a hand through his short hair and waited for an answer which was clearer. The seconds dragged across his toes and annoyance burnt the back of his throat.

"Well, what is it?" Dean asked a little aggravation weaving into his tone.

"Oh, you know how you're a hunter for those…evil things."

"Yeah I kind of have a small memory of that." He joked resisting the urge to roll his eyes as he did the usual Dean way of lightening the tone.

"Of course you do." She laughed at herself lightly and took a slow breathe, "Well, I think there is, one of those…things in my neighborhood."

"What is it?" Dean piped his interest peaking, standing upright automatically.

"Well, my next door neighbor killed her best friend because of an exspensive hand bag."

"People can be weird I've seen someone killed over less."

"I know but…"

"And lets be real…was it purple."

"Dean, be serious."

"Right, right so is that all?"

"That isn't all, a man across the street murdered his wife because their son wanted to ride with her instead."

"Was there one of those DVD players in the car?"

"Yeah I think, why is that important?"

"No, I just heard those were awesome."

"Dean!"

"Alright, you probably got something we'll head out in a few and be there by morning."

"Okay, sounds good and please hurray, I don't know what it is that's going on but its freaking me out."

"I'll hurray Liss…and there is somebody I got to tell you…"

"See you Dean." With that she snapped her phone closed and left Dean with his mouth hanging open on his words.

"Well, that went well." Dean muttered leaning against the door again and sliding down it slowly making his descent to the tile floor. His breathes were ragged as he rubbed his face with a calloused palm.

Yes, love. Has no definition that anyone can agree on. How could they with so many kinds? Yet somehow it is our most powerful emotion and can't be easily broken. Sure it fades but it stays there, hovering, waiting to pounce and possibly ruin everything.