Love

Dean groaned as he woke up, staring at Cas in disbelief. Cas turned the knife over in his hand, glancing at Dean as though he was thoroughly unimpressed.

"About time," Dean griped.

Cas rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You had no right Dean Winchester."

"What, to give her what she wanted? I told you earlier."

"Your brother may not forgive you for this."

"He'll be fine, I just… I hope he doesn't kill her."

"How do you know that you won't have to? That next time you see she'll be a demon?" Cas cocked his head to side.

"Because she's… a tough chick. She won't break that easily." Dean sat up, stretching luxuriously. He grimaced. "Damn it, I'm covered in blood!"

XXVII

Sam followed her trail, wherever it went. He wasn't going to let Andrea get away. That was, until his phone rang for the third time and he was forced to answer it before his cover was blown.

"Heya Sammy. You didn't kill her did you?"

"W-what? Dean?"

"Sorry about that, but it was the only plan I had. Ya see she'll lead us to Lilith…"

Sam was quiet for a very long time.

XXVII

Andrea did as she was told; she fulfilled what orders were given to her. She found ways to avoid the truly gruesome ones, to let some things simply pass her by. She was always on the run, afraid that Sam would kill her any second. She went to Lilith directly for her orders in the meantime.

She got sent to Hell eventually, as part of her experience it was inevitable. She hoped that she wouldn't break and lose track of who she was. Maybe she would be able to remember who she was. That was the only thought she focused on as she was punished like never before. She had broken the natural order of things and she didn't care in the least.

Her family was proud.

And she took this suffering to be punishment for killing Dean and betraying Marissa. That was okay with her. She did have to atone for that, although she was sure that she would one day have to face Sam. And he would make sure that she didn't simply go to Hell, but that she died regardless of what Dean would tell him.

And that was okay too.

XXVII

Marissa started her psychic business up again and helped every day ordinary people. She didn't miss the excitement and unpredictability of being on the road with the Winchesters but she did miss Dean's teasing and Sam. She missed everything about Sam. And she missed her best friend, but she had been left behind. She had seen Cas bring Dean back to life, on the orders of his superiors just as Dean had known. She assumed that he had taken advantage of her psychic blindness and arranged the whole thing so that Sam would be on Lilith's trail.

And Sam… since he'd left her and started hunting Andrea he had turned back to Ruby for help and he was practically lost. Dean rejoined him and it wasn't long until the two of them had an explosive falling out and Marissa wished that it didn't have to happen, that she wasn't secretly glad that there was an ending coming.

She never thought that it was the Apocalypse however that was going to descend upon them and swallow them up. She saw it, the bright flash and she felt it like there was great rip in the earth. She saw the signs. Sam and Dean were perfectly fine, as though nothing had ever happened to them physically. Mentally, it was another thing altogether. Sam was clean. Dean hadn't forgotten their fall-out and it wasn't long until they parted ways.

Sam managed to settle himself in Marissa's community; it was as though he had forgotten she existed. She did her best to fight her instincts, all of which seemed to be screaming at her to run to him. She didn't. She drew the days out and slowly got closer, entering the bar with a fake ID. She felt so childish about it, but she… she had to see him. It wasn't something she could physically resist anymore.

He was cleaning glasses and there was Lindsay, a busty good-looking woman flirting with him. He seemed distant, despite how close they were. Marissa wasn't quite sure what she was expecting when she came, but somehow, it just wasn't this. It was as though he was showing any interest in her, at all, but…

"M-Marissa?" Sam whirled to look over at her, disbelief etched on his features. Lindsay turned to look at her as well, confused about the connection they shared. "I –w-what are you doing here?"

"I… live here. Like, three blocks away… or so." She stared at him, hesitant. He was different.

"I –god, it's good to see you." It took him maybe three steps before he'd closed the distance between them and had his arms wrapped around her.

And it felt good to be in his arms again, to be able to have him when he didn't hate her. She'd been able to watch him for so long, three months or more, to see every last thing he'd done. She knew what he had done, she knew that Dean had rejected him and she knew that he was lonely and scared. She was scared too, for him, and just as lonely. She felt a pang in her heart, her arms going around him tightly as though she would never let go of him again.

"Y-you're underage," he mumbled. "How'd you even get in here?"

"Fake ID," she murmured softly, nuzzling him. She was afraid to ask if he hated her or if he'd forgiven her because of what his answer might be. Maybe he just wasn't thinking about Dean's death. She didn't want to bring it up.

"You know," he pulled back to look down at her. "I am so sorry for everything I ever did to you. I can't… I can't make up for that. Not in a-a million years."

"You can," she replied confidently, smiling slightly up at him.

"How?"

"You could… spend a lifetime trying, and one day you'll know," she smiled shyly.

Sam chuckled, leaning in to kiss her but seeming to reconsider it and chastely kissed her cheek instead. She could have pouted at him, she could have, but he needed her now. She wished, once more, that she could tell him how everything would end. Instead, she settled for hugging him once more. He was here, in her arms, alive and well and Sam.

The gentle giant she had dreamed about for so long was back. She took him to her house and neither of them made a move to go upstairs. He didn't kiss her and she didn't kiss him. They sat at her kitchen table, empty cups before them, his hand almost touching her knee and her hand almost touching his. It would have been simple to cross that line, to set her hand over his. She wanted to, but somehow it didn't seem right.

They spent hours talking and laughing. About nothing, about everything, about days gone by. About days to come. About Dean and Sam's betrayal and how he felt. They never talked about Dean's death or Andrea. Marissa was too scared to go anywhere near that topic and Sam seemed equally reluctant to bring it up for whatever reason.

They spent the entire night simply talking about everything under the moon and it felt just as natural as breathing did. When Sam left, he kissed her on the cheek and went back to work. Marissa closed her business for the day, cancelled all the appointments that had been made and crawled into bed.

She did miss their physicality, but right now, she simply just loved having Sam here. She loved having a connection to him, being able to know that he was there, and being able to understand him better. Just because she had watched him all her life, didn't really mean that she knew him. She did know him, but in a distant way. It felt like they were so much closer and she let her eyes drift shut and carry her away into a memory of the last time he had been with her. Still, so perfect until the last moment.

She had never looked at another man, or really considered one as she waited for Sam. She had hoped that he would come back. She wondered however, at what had brought him to her home. But she didn't push it –he was here and while he was she was going to get to know him. And likewise, he would get to know her.

Sam was surprised to learn that she had gym membership and went whenever she had the opportunity. She was surprised to learn that he liked the sound of her laughter and the color of her eyes and the way she blushed when he teased her. She was surprised to learn that he might really feel the same way about her as how she felt about him.

She wasn't surprised to see him go when his workplace was attacked by hunters. She was sad to see him go. He phoned her before he left and she wondered how he'd ever got her number. But she was glad he had it. He phoned her at least once a week and they just talked. Sometimes about the case he was working on, sometimes about Dean when Dean was out and sometimes they talked about nothing at all.

She got worried when he didn't phone her. His calls became a little more sporadic and distant but she didn't let herself worry. She tried to hold herself together as best as she could manage, which was just fine. It wasn't like she was dependant on Sam, but she did miss him. She missed him a lot.

She even got to talk to Dean sometimes. He was a little surlier than she remembered but after a few minutes he was back to teasing and amusement, mostly at Sam's expense. So Sam naturally took the phone back and threatened that he wouldn't let Dean talk to her anymore.

Somewhere, in all that, when Dean joked and teased Sam about Marissa being his girlfriend, no one was really surprised that he hadn't denied it. And then, to get him back, Sam brought up that male strip club. Brothers didn't forget stuff like that.

When the future changed towards the direction of Sam saying yes and losing his soul, Marissa cried and wouldn't talk to Sam for the entire week. She wasn't angry at him, she knew that it wasn't his fault but she couldn't talk to him. If she had, she would have spilled her guts. She didn't tell Dean either, she held to the oath that the angels had left her with. She phoned him Monday night.

He tried to get her to talk about what had happened but she refused to. Two weeks later he came down to visit her under the pretense of working a case and he spent two days with her. They were heaven spent days. She avoided work and dreaded the day he left.

As time passed and it drew close to Sam surrendering himself to Lucifer, he went to see her while Dean went to Lisa. They spent their last evening lying together, neither of them saying anything.

And then Sam surrendered his soul and Dean sent him to Hell, trapped within Hell. Dean visited her a week later and held her while she cried. She'd cried on her own too, but it was nice to have someone to be there for her. She was legitimately eighteen by the time that Sam was out of Hell and watching her.

He didn't trust her, wouldn't go near her but many nights she knew that he was watching her house. She tried to block out seeing the monster he had become. And when he finally came back to himself and she was nineteen, it was as though he was still scared of her. It took him three weeks to call her, when he was terrified of what she had seen and been put through. She comforted him, assured him she was alright even though she wasn't.

She phoned Dean, terrified when she saw it, saw that Sam was going to lose his mind. She couldn't tell him anything, but she was afraid that her tears had told him more than she had meant to. Dean probably knew more than he let on but he talked to her, calmed her down and then let her talk to Sam. She never wanted to stop talking to Sam, she didn't want him to hang up and she was scared of it. Sam seemed to understand that there was more going on than she was willing to tell him, or in actuality, able to tell him, and he talked to her until she fell asleep, the phone cuddled against her ear.

When he came back, whole and repenting and slightly crazy, Marissa felt the burning need to be at his side to support him and Dean throughout all of this. Sam needed someone to be with him, needed someone who understood him and knew what he was going through. Dean was there, Dean was supportive and he was doing the best that he could but things had begun to spiral out of control. Marissa reluctantly stayed at home, talked to Sam for hours on end when they could afford to and tried to stay out of enemy sight while she worried and fretted like a housewife.

He didn't talk to her for a few weeks and she helplessly feared that the worst had happened. And then, he called her. And she got the news and he drove back to be with her, just for some time, needing comfort as much as Dean needed it. They had gone their separate ways, a vow uniting them. They would take some time and grieve and then they would destroy the enemies. And then, they would pack up their gear and retire.

The world needed Sam and Dean Winchester. But so did Marissa and so did Kora. And they didn't want to be needed anymore, regardless of what fate or destiny or god had planned for them. They were going to quit, retire and live as happily as they could be.

Sure, it was never perfect. Sam sometimes woke up in the middle of the night with a start, staring off into a corner as his heart pounded in his chest. Marissa would snuggle a little closer to him, squeeze his hand gently and soothingly playing with his hair. Slowly, he would relax and sink back down into bed, drifting to sleep.


Well, thank you Amaven, Kissacazador and Mar for sticking with me and reviewing so wonderfully. Thank you to all of you reader who just haven't commented but have either alerted or favorited this story or simply read it.

I hope this is a satisfying ending for everyone.

Also, a note. Probably by Monday I will have a companion fic to this story up. It'll be between 3-6 chapters long and start from Dean finding that strip club and then it will follow his relationship with Kora. (Kora has no connection to the male strip club, just want to get that out right now)