In the midst of all the crying and apologizing, Dean and Bela found each other again.

They kissed, and it was like they were two lost lovers who hadn't kissed in ages, especially as the two of them found that air wasn't a necessity as long as they had to part lips. Bela did, however, gasp as Dean pressed her body into the wall using his, while simultaneously biting down on her lip, sending a shiver down her spine and making her hands tremble as she groped through the bristly brown hair on the back of his head. They slowly tossed whatever clothing they were wearing to the side until they were both down to their underwear, continuing to kiss as they leisurely made their way around the apartment and to the master bedroom.

And soon, as they took in each other's heat in the bed, Bela forgot what she had to cry about, and Dean forgot what he had to apologize for. All they could process was the stickiness of each other's skin, the softness of each other's lips, and the seductiveness of each other's moans as they moved as one, tangled in a bundle of silk sheets and enjoying the feel of one another's body.

When they both reached their respective climactic ends, they lay beside one another, Dean on his back and Bela curled up into his side, just like how they were that one fateful night in the motel room. Bela felt as if almost all the emotions that had plagued her over the past couple of weeks had washed away. She no longer felt like crying, no longer felt angry at Dean for doing what he did to save his only brother; all she really felt was bittersweet. She was sad that he was going to be gone, yes, but she had also garnered a degree of closure spending this one night (which, she knew, was probably going to be one of their last together) with him. The feeling was all nostalgic, but it was one she thought she could come to handle.

"What're you thinking about?" Dean asked, pulling her closer into him once he saw the thoughtful expression on her face.

Bela blinked, shelving her thoughts aside. "That waitress back at the diner," she smiled weakly, mimicking what he had said to her all those nights ago. Dean had already rolled his eyes and began to grin. "You were right about her…rack, by the way." She grimaced at the choice of words, but still managed to wear a smirk nonetheless.

"Alright, alright," he laughed. "Touché."

She giggled for a moment, then sighed and gazed up at him. "I was just thinking about you."

"Aw, I'm flattered," he bore a small grin, turning his head to look back down at her. Then, noticing that her smile seemed somewhat conflicted as she began to think again, he frowned and brushed a few fingers against her face. "We're going to be okay, Bela."

If he would have said this to her earlier, she probably would have started crying again. This time, however, she simply smiled, a mixture of sadness and hopefulness, before trailing a finger through the stubble on his jawline.

"You think so?"

"Well," he shrugged, smiling, "We always find a way, right?"

As she relaxed, Bela smiled, too. They were just words, but they were words with a hell of a lot of intimate meaning, and for some reason they made any worries she had dissipate. With this, she snuggled back into Dean's side and refused to think about anything except for the fact that at that moment, she was as content as ever.

They spent the next few days as if they were just a normal couple, doing normal couple things. Dean cooked Bela breakfast, which included a vast array of eggs, bacon, French toast, and a whole bunch of other items that she would have never guessed him capable of making before, and they went on a movie date and had dinner at a five-star restaurant that required them to dress up in formal wear. Even though Dean initially complained about how uncomfortable his suit was, he immediately shut up when he saw Bela emerge out of the bedroom in a sleek jade dress, and was even uncharacteristically out of a smart-assed comment when she walked over to him and gave him an amused look-over. All in all, it was a wonderful weekend they spent together, and by the end of it, Dean could safely say that it was the best of his life.

Unfortunately, he soon had to leave for an urgent zombie-involved case once Sam called him from somewhere near Erie, Pennsylvania, asking for his help. Bela didn't cry; in fact, she didn't even feel like crying, and instead she smiled and made him promise to be careful as he gathered his things and left her with a final kiss. She watched him drive off in the Impala from her living room window, scratching Peru on the head as the old car's taillights disappeared down the street corner.

A few weeks later, Bela received a call of her own, although it wasn't from Dean. It was from Sam, and he was somewhere in Indiana, and he could barely get his voice high enough for her to understand a single word of what he was saying. However, she didn't need to hear his words, because she instantly knew.

Dean was gone.

And then, Bela did cry.

Over the next four months Bela proceeded to continue on with her life, although not a day went by when she didn't think about Dean. She stopped thieving, thinking how much the aspect bothered him, although she still sold her own stuff from time to time once she got bored or felt like her bank account was stooping too low for her liking. However, she never once thought about selling the membrane-encased rune drum, which she kept hidden away in her closet safe. It was not only a Siberian artifact, but also an artifact from her relationship with Dean, and she wasn't sure if she'd ever truly be able to part from it, no matter how much money it would guarantee her.

She also never heard from Sam again, although she didn't blame him for going under the radar after his brother's death. However, Bobby did call her from time-to-time to check up on how she was doing, much to her surprise. Their conversations were a little awkward and never extended for more than four or five minutes, but Bela appreciated the thought nevertheless. In fact, the calls were sort of comforting, because it made her feel like there was still someone out there who, at least somewhat, cared about how she was handling things.

One day, while reading a book in her living room, she thought Bobby might have even made the effort to physically stop by her apartment and chat for a while, as she heard a knocking on the front door. Peru immediately hopped down from his spot behind her and continuously meowed at whoever was standing outside, causing Bela to curiously frown at him as she opened the door and glanced up at her visitor.

Her face immediately fell and her voice was small and tinny as she shakily gasped, "Dean?"

He didn't look how a man who had been dead for four months should have looked. In fact, he seemed entirely healthy, exactly how he did the last time she had seen him with her own two eyes, and this was precisely the reason why she immediately darted for her gun in the end table drawer.

"I—stay back," she said, hands trembling as she pointed the Walther at who or whatever was standing before her, because it surely couldn't have been Dean Winchester.

"Bela—" Dean—it?—began, ignoring what she had just said and taking a half-step forward.

Peru had since stopped meowing and was now rubbing his head against Dean's legs, purring loudly. Bela frowned down at her pet, biting back tears, and instead forced herself to look at Dean again. "I said, stay back."

Sighing, Dean took another step forward towards her until the gun was pressed firmly against him. His eyes were boring down on her and she couldn't bring herself to look him in the face, so instead she kept her eyes trained on the cloth of the T-shirt—a T-shirt that she had seen the actual Dean wear so many times—over his steadily rising chest.

"What do you think you're doing?" she said quietly, tears slowly starting to fall down as she tried her best to remain angry. "I have a gun pointed—"

The words died in her throat as Dean lifted a single hand and gently pushed her wrist away. She could have easily fought back; easily could have shot him, but they both knew the real reason why she didn't take the chance when she had it—she knew that this really was him standing before her.

As such, she didn't protest as he silently wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him, feeling him take in a deep breath against her neck as he held her there. Instead she noiselessly cried, her arms limp at her sides and her gun clattering to the floor as she found that she no longer had the strength to hold it in her hand. Her suspicions about it really being him, even if she had any anymore, were completely laid to rest as she breathed in a combination of leather, black coffee, and Irish Spring, making her quietly gasp out,

"How are you…?"

Dean didn't pull back to look at her. Instead, he brought his lips right beside her ear and whispered, "I found a way."

The answer was entirely vague and didn't even begin to answer all the questions she had whirling through her mind, but at that moment, it was all Bela Talbot needed to hear.

Author's Note: Alright guys, we have come to the end. I just want to say that I really appreciate each and every one of you that stuck with this fic from beginning to end, and I also want to say how thankful I am for the nice reviews that you all left for me. This was my first time writing a fic this long and, not only that, but with an original concept (original enough, because, of course, the characters and some aspects are definitely not mine), and I am happy at all the positive feedback I have gotten from it. This is certainly not the last I'll be writing Dean and Bela, in fact I think i'm even going to continue on with this story line in other fics, and maybe even make a collection of Dean/Bela fics stemming from their story in this one. Who knows?

I also want to apologize for the shortness of this chapter, but like I said I have plans for further fics surrounding this one, so I didn't want to make it seem like this was the flat-out end. For the meantime, however, you can use your imagination to figure out what may happen next with these two little lovebirds, because you won't be seeing the last of them from me anytime soon!