Enjoy the last installment! I hope you liked this story, and thank you for reading :)

Part 4

Sammy told me not to worry; he told me that he had everything planned out down to the finest detail, and that Dean would be okay. I could hear him screaming, hurling sults that made even my skin sting, but Sam kept at it.

Of course, Dean had already escaped and after he barely missed his opportunity to have me up against the kitchen counter, Sam made sure that Castiel was there to help him.

Feed him blessed blood, and he'll be right as rain.

Sure, Sammy, and when had we ever encountered a rain storm that felt just right?

I was pacing furiously, my hair was standing on end; how in the world was I supposed to listen to this?

Heavy footsteps behind me startled me out my reverie, and I turned to see Sam watching me.

"I wanna see him."

"That isn't a good idea, and we both know why."

I rolled my eyes heavenward and prayed for some patience I would never get.

"You told me you wouldn't throw that in my face, Sam. Not now."

His eyes said the words he didn't have the courage to voice...

Why did you let him touch you?
Why did you let him hurt you?

Why did you let him break you?

His expression softened and he pressed a solid kiss to my forehead.

"I wasn't- look, we both know he isn't in his right mind. If he sees you, he's gonna say things he doesn't really mean. I don't want you to hurt anymore."

I swallowed the retort I had burning at the back of my throat, and pressed my forehead to his chin.

"Sammy, I gotta do this. Maybe I can get through to him. You tied him up tight, didn't ya?," I asked.

He sighed loudly enough to make me grin.

"Yes. Come on."

I took his hand in mine, squeezing it tight. I was grateful that he didn't let go as he led me to Dean.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"You're my rock. No matter what he says, I got this. Okay?"

His hazel eyes met mine and he simply nodded, opening the door to reveal a trussed up Dean, with his head hanging low as he sat in a straight-backed chair.

As I stepped further into the room, he grinned, his pearly whites greeting me with malice.

"Ah, ah, looky what we have here," He drawled. I crossed my arms over my chest, glancing at Sam.

"You look like shit," I muttered.

His grin fell and he pulled harshly against his restraints.
"You weren't sayin' that when I was buried deep inside of ya," He spat. Sam stiffened beside me and I patted his arm.

"Well ain't that sweet. You fuckin' him too?," Dean snarled at me, his green eyes fading to black faster than the sunset. Slowly, I neared him, kicking the front of his chair with my boot.

"Does that bother you?," I whispered menacingly. Dean's growl echoed around the both of us as he fought hard to get at me from his seat in his chair.

"You filthy little whore! I told you I would kill you!"

I laughed, a harsh bitter sound between us.

"Maybe my head was so full of Sam that I just didn't hear you," I sing-songed towards him. If looks could kill, I'd be burned to a pile of ash at his feet, because the look on his face was nothing but pure vitriol. Sam rounded me, needle in hand.

"Don't fuckin' stick that thing in me! You! Stop him!"

I shrugged.

"I'm nothin' but the house whore. Sorry, I got no say," I said.

"I shoulda killed you when I had the chance! Dean's never gonna forgive you, you backstabbing bitch!," He screamed at me.

It hurt, of course it did, but the pain bounced right off of me as I watched those black eyes fade to green.

"Dean Winchester, I love you. I forgive you for all the things you've said and done in the last six months," I told him. For a second, it looked like he was going soft on me; the expression on his face was almost tender, and then he started to laugh. His whole body shook with tremors from his laughter, and I sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly.

"I don't give a fuck about you, little girl. Ya always were a pathetic excuse for a hunter too, and guess what? Ya ain't that good in bed either," He said bitterly.

Sam's eyes met mine behind Dean and I winked at him.

"Last night, Sam fucked me so good I had trouble walkin' this mornin'," I told him vindictively. His lip lifted in a snarl before he spit at my feet.

I kneeled before him, watching as those demonic black eyes hovered over every inch of my skin.

"It felt so good when he slid between my thighs. He erased every memory of you from my body," I whispered.

His eyes flickered between black and green, before they finally settled on their beautiful, electric green.

"You wouldn't do that."

I tilted my head to the side, feeling the flutters of pure joy rising up in my stomach. Could he be cured?

Could he come back to me?

Could Dean, my Dean, finally come home?

"Cas told me that erasing you from my memory would be doin' me a disservice. Even though I literally begged him to erase every second I'd ever spent with you. Still, he told me he couldn't do that to me," I told him honestly.

His lips twitched and as I moved to stand, he flinched, trying to move with me, almost as if it genuinely scared him to lose sight of me.

His eyes were trained on me like I was his prey, but the earnest expression on his face told me he wouldn't hurt me. It told me that we were making progress.

"Come on, maybe we should go-,"

"I'm gonna break outta here, and when I do, well then little girl you're gonna be mine. The things I'm gonna do to you when I get my hands on you are gonna make what I did in hell look like a fuckin' act of God!," Dean screamed at me, his growly voice making my insides curl up with fear.

And just like that, his eyes clouded with darkness, and the man I yearned for disappeared altogether.

"Come on. Let's leave him alone."

Castiel appeared beside me, and when his hand landed on my elbow, Dean roared. He tipped his head back and screamed, his long legs kicking against the chair that I was surprised could still hold him.

"You shouldn't come down here anymore," Castiel said gruffly. His blue eyes fell on me, and for a moment, I thought I saw pity there.

"Sure Cas, take her away! Keep her locked up tight, because the very second I get free, I'm gonna fillet her like she deserves!," Dean said as he huffed a breath.

I glanced at him one more time before I let Sammy take me towards the library, and I was pretty sure that his hand on my lower back was the only thing keeping me grounded.

"Are you okay?," Sammy whispered.

"I'm okay. Really. Let me know when he's better, okay?"

Sam ran a hand through his hair and nodded.

"Okay. Stay up here until one of us gives ya the go ahead, alright? I don't wanna catch a repeat of yesterday," Sam joked. I cracked a smile, the first in a while, and Sam chuckled.

"Sorry ya had to see that."

Sammy just shook his head, smiling.

"I think we did it."

The pride in his voice, the overwhelming joy that seeped out of his mouth? It was amazing. Wonderful.

"I believe you. Go finish it."

With an excited wave in my direction, he was gone, and I was left shaking in the back corner of the library. I held on to the stacks, hoping that the musty smell of the books would bring me back down to earth. Hearing Dean say those things hurt me more than I could ever say, but I wouldn't ever throw that in his face.

I meant it when I said I forgave him, because I did. I loved him more than anything, and I forgave him with every fiber of my being.

I stood there for what felt like days, but it was more than likely only hours.

The sun fell before my eyes, but I didn't see it.

The screaming finally stopped, but I didn't hear it.

All of me was seemingly melting at the seams, dripping and fusing together in all the wrong ways.

I didn't know what way was up, and what way was down.

The carpet was wedged between my bare toes, but I didn't notice; I didn't notice Castiel beside me, a worried expression on his face. I didn't hear Sammy and him murmuring, I didn't hear their excited exchange as they realized that Dean was cured.

Nothing.

For me, there was nothing.

At some point my body had moved me into a chair propped against the shelves, and my knees were drawn up to my chest.

The first thing I did notice, was the distinct chill in the air. My tank top and bohemian skirt didn't keep me warm by any means, and when I finally did blink away the haziness, it was quiet in the bunker.

It was silent, too quiet.

I slowly began to move, dropping my feet to the floor. My muscles were stiff from sitting in the same position for hours, and I groaned softly as I moved to stand. I saw that Sam had lit a few candles on the tables around me, and I smiled at his thoughtfulness.

I hadn't been lying when I told him he was my rock.

He kept my feet on the ground when my head got lost in the clouds; like tonight.

Tonight, he'd let me keep all my thoughts to myself, tonight he'd left me alone.

Tonight, he let me heal.

"I was afraid you'd turned into a statue," I heard.

I flinched at the sound of his voice, so velvety and sweet. So warm, so gruff.

I turned to see Dean sitting in a chair across the room from me. He had his elbows planted on the arm rests and his hands fisted in front of him. I swallowed audibly and shrugged.

"I'm cured, apparently."

I couldn't help but smile.

"That's great, Dean."

He stood sharply, and his face fell; it crumpled like an old Coke can.

"Nothing about the last six months has been great, sweetheart. Please don't pretend like this ain't tearin' you apart."

As he neared me, I held my hands up as if that could keep him away.

"Not yet. I ain't ready, yet, Dean."

He stopped moving altogether, and his jaw locked.

"I can't walk away from you without knowin' if ya meant what ya said," He finally said. I dropped my hands. My fingers curled in on themselves, yearning to touch him.

His green eyes stayed familiar, stayed warm and broken as he watched me.

No blackness.

"Which part?," I whispered. I knew that if I tried to speak now, my voice would catch on all the things I wanted to say that were crawling up the back of my throat like word vomit. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth for a second before he exhaled deeply.

"All of it."

I covered my face with my hands, trying to stave off the tears.

"Yes and no."

His brows pulled together over his sad eyes and I twisted my fingers together.

"I don't know how much you remember-,"

"Enough. I remember enough."

I nodded and looked at the bruises lining my wrists from when he held me captive against the refrigerator just yesterday.

"I never slept with Sam. One night when he was drunk we kissed, but that's as far as that went. I'm sure you remember that night," I said softly.

There it was again, the guilt that was ever-present with Dean Winchester. It flashed in his eyes, made a home in his heart.

"Yeah, I remember that."

"The next mornin', Castiel came to visit me. Apparently Sam told him what we'd-what you and I had done- he was worried. So I asked him to erase you. I asked him to take me out of my misery and make me forget you, but he wouldn't," I told him. His stance changed and he hung his head.

"I shoulda never touched ya-,"

"Let me finish," I said sternly.

Dean's green eyes shot to mine and with one single nod, I continued.

"I went out of my mind while you were gone. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep- that was true. When I told you that my broken heart would kill me, I meant it. And it did. Cas brought me back by the skin of my teeth. Do you remember all those months ago, when you told me ya couldn't stop thinkin' about the time I got attacked by a werewolf?," I asked him. He nodded his head again.

"This time it was a shapeshifter. He- he came to me as you, and I was so fucked in the head I couldn't tell the difference. I just wanted to see you at that point, so I left our motel with him. He strung me up like a fuckin' Christmas tree, and that's how Sammy found me," I explained.

His eyes were vibrant, wet, swelling with tears. I turned so I wouldn't have to look at them as I continued.

"Cas healed me. Really healed me. I come back to life and I feel...okay. There's no hole in my chest that makes it hard to breathe. No nightmares, so shame, no guilt, no heart-stopping loneliness. I know he won't admit it, that he changed me, but he did. And then you showed up," I whimpered. I could hear his shallow breathing, I could hear how hard he was fighting back tears.

"I'm not tellin' ya this to hurt you, Dean. I'm tellin' ya this because after tonight I never wanna talk about it again. The second you waltzed in here two days ago, it undid whatever he did because now I can't stop feeling. It's like a tidal wave of everything that I'd been able to escape this last couple of months, and it hurts," I cried. He stepped towards me, raised his hands as if to touch me, and dropped them at his sides at the last moment.

I turned to face him, moving closer to him until our toes were touching. His worn out boots were rough against my bare, purple-painted toes, and I looked up into his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I shoulda stayed away, I shouldn't have come here-,"

"Stop. I know you're sorry, Dean. I can see it in your eyes. I don't regret anything that happened between us, baby. And why don't you just ask me what it is you really wanna know?," I whispered.

He dropped his gaze to our feet, and I felt the barest of touches against my thigh. Looking down, I saw his pinky just barely grazing the flowing material of my skirt.

"Do you...I mean, did you mean it when you...said that you love me? Do you still?," He asked me, his voice just above a whisper.

I hesitated, wondered briefly how he couldn't know that, and then reminded myself this was Dean Winchester. He wouldn't know real love if it bit him on the ass and turned him into a vampire.

"Look at me."

His green eyes met mine, and I hooked my pinky with his.

"I never stopped loving you."

The smile that stretched across his face, well it was a beautiful sight.

Home.

He's home.

"Would it be alright if I touched ya?," He asked me.

His cheeks were wet, his lower lip was still trembling slightly. As he reached for me, his fingers shook.

"If you don't, I think I'll go mad," I answered desperately.

His palms cupped my cheeks immediately, bringing my mouth to his. He cried into my mouth as his tongue swept inside to meet mine, but I didn't care.

Dean Winchester didn't do feelings, and I knew that after this moment was over, we would never revisit it again.

It needed to be aired out, like a healing wound, right now.

His arms were tight around me, giving me no room to move, and I loved it. I needed it. I absolutely wanted nothing more than for Dean to make love to me and wash away all the pain and sorrow the last six months had given us.

"Tell me ya don't hate me, sweetheart. Tell me that this is real, that ya won't leave me," Dean whispered adamantly into my ear. I sucked in a deep breath and nodded. This is real.

"Of course, this is real. I haven't left you yet."

His breath fanned my face as his hands worked up underneath my tank top to cup my breasts, weighing them in his calloused hands. He tore my tank top from me and tossed it to the floor.

"Fuck, you feel better than I remembered," Dean groaned. His hands were bringing me to new heights, and after waiting so long to have Dean here, it felt amazing. I worked my fingers beneath his t-shirt and slipped it over his head. As it fell to the floor, his lips landed on mine once more and it was almost as if all the broken pieces inside of me fused themselves back together.

Dean's skilled hands shoved my skirt and my panties down my thighs, and he took a second to press his nose to the apex of my thighs and inhaled deeply.

"The scent of you, the taste...the memories were the only thing that kept me human," Dean said against my skin. I ran my fingers through his hair and tugged gently. His eyes met mine in the moonlight, and I smiled tremulously.

My skirt hit the floor, along with my lavender colored panties, and the sound Dean made when he lifted me into his arms and set me on the table behind me was nothing short of sexy.

"I've had so many fantasies about this," He whispered, using one palm to lay me back against the table top. I shuddered, laying my hand over his, as he eased between my thighs and pressed open mouthed kisses to my fevered skin.

"Me too," I admitted.

His green eyes met mine and a smiled curved onto his lips.

"Yeah?"

I spread my legs wider, nodding my head.

"Like you wouldn't believe."
He hesitated for a moment, before I sat up and pressed my mouth to his.

"Do you want me to show you?"

His gaze dropped to the floor, his head shaking.

"I don't- no, I don't deserve it-,"

I pressed a finger to his lips and then replaced it with my mouth. He calmed, relaxed, and I smiled.

"Switch places with me," I whispered. He did, and when his ass was settled against the table, I worked on his belt. I pulled it through the loops, stopping only to make eye contact with Dean as I did so.

His green eyes were hazy, his pupils blown so wide that for a moment I feared the worst-that he hadn't been cured and this was all some sick and twisted dream.

"What'sa matter sweetheart? We can stop-,"

I shook my head fervently and kissed the hand he held out to me.

"No. I was just silently appreciating the fact that you came home to me."

His expression changed from worried to tender and he leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead.

And then his belt was on the floor and he was sighing with relief as I pulled his pants down to unsheathe the cock I'd missed so much.

It was perfect, symmetrical and so familiar. My mouth began to water as I tentatively touched it, pausing when I heard his sexy sharp intake of breath.

"Fuck, I missed this," I breathed, leaning forward to slid my tongue along his shaft. He jerked, his hands falling into my hair and tugging on the thick strands as I leaned forward to swallow him. With one hand braced on his thigh and the other cupping his balls, I opened my mouth wider only to proceed by hollowing my cheeks and turning my gaze to Dean's face.

His eyes were at half mast and his head was tipped back, his hair in disarray.

He's perfect.

He's mine.

Mine, Mine, Mine-

"Wait! I don't wanna come like this baby, and it's been a while," Dean admitted with a sheepish grin before he had me bent backwards over the table, my legs spread wide. Two fingers filled me up instantly, drawing a gasp from me.

"Ya miss me?"

I nodded, my eyes closing, as Dean finger-fucked me into oblivion.

"You're so wet," He whispered, sucking a pert nipple into his mouth. His hot tongue slid across my skin, and the tension in my belly coiled tighter and tighter until I thought my entire being would explode.

But I needed more, I needed Dean inside of me, exactly where he belonged.

I didn't have time to ask for more before he lifted my legs at the back of my knees and slid home, leaning forward to wrap an arm around my waist and bringing my mouth up to meet his.

The new angle made me catch my breath, moan, and bury a hand in the hair at the nape of his neck.

"You feel so good," I whispered. Nibbling on the shell of his ear, he sucked in a breath and tightened his hold on me.

"I can't let go," He whispered desperately, his hips thrusting against mine as he made his way outside of me, and then back in.

Dean's hands were everywhere, all at once, and for the first time in months it finally felt like I was whole.

We were one.

"I love you," I whispered against his mouth.

His green eyes met mine, and he smiled at me, his teeth catching on my bottom lip.

I didn't expect a response, this was Dean after all, and I knew that I would probably never hear the words.

But that tension was building again, and from the jerky response of Dean's hips said he was ready to come too.

"Are you gonna come for me baby?"

His sexy words only made my pussy clench tighter as my orgasm blazed through me, burning my skin to a fever pitch. Spots came to life behind my eyes as my muscles clenched and my orgasm flooded through me like the plague.

Dean's breathing hitched as he came at the same time, his mouth on mine, his cries blending in with mine.

It was the moment, the moment I realized that no matter what life threw our way, Dean and I were it.

"It this okay?"

The insecurity in Dean's voice made me pause.

"Was it not...was that not good?," I asked.

He pulled away, trailing a hand down between my breasts and continuing towards the area where our bodies were still connected.

"The best, baby. There ain't nobody else out there that makes me feel the way you do, I just...don't want the dust to settle and realize that this ain't what ya want," Dean said softly. He gently eased himself away from me, reaching down to pull his pants back up and button them.

Feeling rejected, I pulled on my clothes as fast as possible, fisting my forgotten panties.

"We may not have a very conventional love story Dean, but it's ours. It happened, and I wouldn't change a thing. I'd rather know that I can feel secure in what we are then wake up every day wondering."
His shoulders relaxed as he slid his t-shirt on, and he nodded.

"So I can keep you?"

He'd asked the question so softly I almost didn't hear him, but when I realized what he was asking me, I stepped towards him and pressed a kiss to his chest.

"I'm yours."

The look in his green eyes was something I would always cherish; the gratitude, the love, the absolute dedication.

"We better get to bed, sweetheart. We got a lot of stuff to sort out in the mornin'."
Yeah, I guess we did.