Author's Note: So here it is. The tone is different, so read at your own risk. The rating has been changed to M - just in case - due to one scenario which you'll be warned about mid-text. Also contains references to Seasons 2-5. Not beta read.

At first, Lyra thought she was just waking up from a long and restless sleep. But as consciousness returned gradually to her, so did the memories of what had happened.

They had gone to rescue John and had been successful too, but John wasn't the only one they'd brought back to the cabin. Dean had realised that he was possessed yet he had hesitated in shooting the demon inhabiting John's body. And Lyra recalled the consequences of that. How it had turned out to be the yellow-eyed demon – the one they'd been hunting all along. She remembered the screams she had emitted as she was dragged up by an invisible force and pinned to the ceiling. "This is becoming a habit, isn't it? The fate of every Winchester woman," the demon had commented blithely. Dean had shouted himself hoarse, pleading with John to stop the demon, and Sam's struggles had turned violent in their intensity. Lyra had been too terrified to do anything but close her eyes and cry. The pain, when it had come, had been too much to handle as the demon had slowly and deeply cut her open. She hadn't wanted to look at Dean, but his eyes had been the only solace she could have gotten, despite the naked desperation in them. So she had met his gaze for a brief second and as her vision had blackened her last thought had been that she should've been more afraid of burning than drowning.

By all accounts, she should be dead now. But the faint beeping she could hear beside her could only be the heart rate monitor. Was she alive? Where were Dean and Sam? And John! Was the demon gone? She wrestled her eyes open and as her gaze swirled around wildly, she caught only a blurry outline of whoever sat by her bedside before she was forced to close her eyelids again. Lyra tried to hold onto wakefulness a while longer, to have her questions answered, but the heaviness in her head dragged her under. And she dreamed.

"Lyra" a voice calls and she turns to find Sam with a relieved look on his face. "You're awake," he says with a smile.

"Sam. What happened?" She asks as he grasps her hand in his.

A pained look passes his face and he replies in a serious voice, "We got out. I shot him in the leg. Enough to make him leave. And then… This truck came out of nowhere. They were still after us. I'm sorry. It's all my fault."

"Hey, no. It's alright," Lyra reassures, squeezing his hand.

"You lost so much blood," he tells her, his voice clogged with tears. "And then you fell and hit your head when the demon lost his hold. Dean was… His side of the car took the most damage. He hasn't woken up. I don't know what to do."

She turns to look at the other bed in the room where Dean is laid up intubated. He looks much worse than she feels. "Will he be ok? And John? Where is he?"

"The doctors don't know," he answers pensively, before anger flashes in his eyes. "And Dad… He's more worried about the demon than you two."

But it later turns out that John was worried about them after all. He sells his soul in exchange for Dean's life. They mourn John's death and they all swear vengeance on the yellow-eyed-demon. And the road continues for the trio. They hunt clowns, vampires, ghosts, zombies, demons, tricksters, werewolves-

("Oh, Sam," Lyra says when the younger brother finally comes out after killing Madison. She moves to hug him tightly and he bends over to hide his face in her neck. "I'm so sorry," she tells him as his tears dampen her shirt. He cries for a long time and she holds him throughout, even as his weight becomes too heavy to hold up on her own. That's when Dean comes and pats his back and before long, Sam composes himself and pulls away.

Later, when they drive quietly away, Sam speaks up, "She didn't want to live as a monster. A werewolf wasn't who she was and she chose to die than live a life she didn't choose nor want."

"She made a brave choice," Lyra remarks.

"To her, it was the only choice," he replies and that's that.)

- and djinns, and spirits, and hellhounds. In return, they're hunted by the FBI and the demons and Sam's past with Azazel. It is the latter that catches up with them when Sam is killed by one of Azazel's other children.

Dean is understandably inconsolable. Lyra sees the blankness in his eyes as he stares at Sam's body. He hasn't moved in hours.

"Dean, please," she says, trying to tug him up. "You've to eat. Or just drink something. Please. Get up." When he remains deaf to her pleas and doesn't respond at all, she's had enough. "He's dead! Sam is dead and you must face that, Dean. We've to bury him soon."

"No." A response at last, but not what she wants to hear from him. "No," he repeats. "He's not dead. He can't be. I'll get him back. He'll wake up."

There's a glint of determination in his eyes now and Lyra is more scared of this than she was of the blankness. "Dean, he's dead," she tells him, making him face her and meet her eyes. "He's not coming back. You must let him go!"

"No."

She's getting desperate now, so she tries again to make him see reason, "Dean, you must stop. I need you. Do you understand? Don't do anything stupid, please. I need you alive."

He looks at her then, truly sees her and not whatever else he was seeing before. "Lyra…"

"Yes, your wife Lyra," she reminds him. And the next words are tough for her pride to swallow, but she speaks them anyway, "I depend on you, Dean. Remember the curse? You can't leave me. You go and I die. My life is in your hands."

A pained look comes over his face and he takes the hand holding his cheek in his own. "Yes. I'm sorry. Sammy is gone. He's gone."

Relieved that he was finally processing the tragic event, she hugs him and fails to note the apologetic tone to his words. So later, when her water tastes off and she tries to dump it in the sink but Dean forces her to drink all of it, it comes as a surprise.

"I don't want to hit you, Lyra," he says as she struggles against his hold.

"Why?" she asks with betrayal lacing her voice, once he allows her to sit up after finishing the glass. She coughs violently and backs away from him in fear, looking at him in a new light. But he never replies and as she slowly loses consciousness, she feels him pick her up to put in the Impala.

So they drive to the crossroads and Dean proposes a deal to the demon with a clause to break Lyra's curse.

"It's not possible," replies the demon.

"Why not?" he asks angrily.

"Because it's not her that's cursed, but her blood itself. And with the caster dead, it cannot be undone - not after so many generations. Breaking it would be like rewriting her DNA. And even us demons have limits."

"Then the deal's off," Dean retorts and turns to walk back to his car.

"But I can fulfil it- the curse," says the demon, stopping him in his path. "The caster also made sure that her line wouldn't have a son as firstborn anytime soon. But I can get around that."

He faces her again and cocks his head to the side casually, "I'm listening."

The demon smirks, smelling victory nearby, "An antidote if you will, to ensure she conceives and births a son."

So the deal is sealed. Sam's life in exchange for Dean's soul and the antidote, with a year to see the curse broken. Lyra - when she finds out about it - refuses to drink the antidote.

"I won't bring a child into this life. Especially when he'd be fatherless not long after. How can you even ask me that?" Lyra asks in an indignant voice. She's still reeling with his decision to sell his soul, even after she begged him not to leave her, not to mention how he had manhandled and drugged her. But he has crossed all lines by asking her to get pregnant so that he can throw away his life without taking her down with him. She doesn't think she can get past this.

"Lyra please," he begs, as much as Dean Winchester can. "This is the only way."

"You're practically asking me to be a single mother. I won't. I'm not ready. Not without you."

"I can't watch you die."

"You're lucky you won't have to. It'll be me who'll watch you die, before drowning to death myself."

His hopelessness is quick to turn to anger, "Damn it Lyra! Why don't you understand!?"

"My decision is final. Unless you'd knock me out and do something I'm inherently against, something I've asked you not to," Lyra taunts. "Again."

"What the hell!" Dean cries, outrage evident in his tone. "Are you suggesting that I'd rape you?"

"I don't know anymore, Dean. You made the unilateral decision to take my life with yours. In some bullshit parody of Romeo and Juliet. What am I supposed to think now?"

He comes closer, taking her by the shoulders, "You have a choice. You don't have to die."

"Choice?" she shrieks, wrenching free of his hands. "You're making me choose between death and a child I don't want which I'll have to raise alone because you'll be dead. It's not a choice, it's an ultimatum. Either I give up my life or I give up control over my own body. You can't force a pregnancy on me, Dean. It's my body and I get to choose when, how, why, and with whom to have a child! So I'd rather die than give up my autonomy if it's all the same to you."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Lyra, I couldn't…. Sammy was dead and…"

"I know, Dean," she replies calmly. There is no bitterness in her voice, only a resigned acceptance of the fact. "Sammy comes first. Sammy always comes first. How stupid of me to forget that? You know, my doubts about your favouritism between us never really went away. Thanks for confirming that I was right. Even a dead Sam ranks higher than an alive Lyra in your priorities."

"That's not true. Why do you think I asked that bitch to break your curse?"

She rolls her eyes, "Gee! Thanks for the afterthought. How good of you to remember me."

"Stop it, Lyra! Please."

A sardonic smile twists her lips and she comments, "You know, what difference does it make? Today or a year from now. It's beautiful outside. Good day to die, I'd say. On my own terms, of my own volition." She turns and walks towards the door, intent on following through on her words.

"What? Where the hell are you going? Lyra!" He chases after her and taking her wrist in hand, pushes her against the wall.

"Saving you the guilt of killing me."

And he presses his lips to hers, in a desperate attempt to stop her from speaking any further. Her words are like carefully honed knives that know every chink in his armour and strike there, with deadly accuracy. Again and again, he's stabbed by the truth he can't deny she speaks. He's bleeding all over, his heart but a tattered piece of raw emotions. This is the kind of pain, the kind of agony he's never experienced nor imagined. When Sam had died, 'd gone numb. His lack of feeling was what had enabled him to act as he had, selling his soul and sealing Lyra's fate with it. But now Sam's alive and so is he, but Lyra may have very well killed him inside just now. Maybe there will be no soul for the demon to claim at the end of the year.

The kiss ends just as abruptly as it had started as Dean breaks down, unable to hold it in anymore. He sinks to his knees, clinging to an unmoving Lyra. She stands there, still as a statue while he cries his heart out. "No, no, please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he chants on and on, his face squashed against her abdomen. But his heart-wrenching sobs do nothing to soften her. She holds onto her anger and though tears escape her eyes too, she refuses to comfort him.

Yet forgiveness comes in time. At first, she resents the fact that even her last year of life she's not free to live as she wishes, but rather she has to stick with the brothers as they hunt monsters. Though, as the months slowly pass by and the time of their deaths draws near, Lyra lets go of her grudges and finds peace where she can. Dean, who initially holds out hope that she might change her mind, turns melancholic with time. Seeing how his guilt is killing his spirit and unable to bear it any longer, she mends their tattered relationship back together. The last few months of her life, she snatches happiness in every little moment - whether it be karaoke with Sam in nameless bars or stargazing with Dean on the hood of the Impala. So that when their time finally comes, Lyra is relatively content to move on and join her parents in the afterlife.

"Lyra" a voice calls and she turns to find John standing by her bedside with misty eyes. "Hey, kiddo."

She gets a sudden déjà vu, as they'd been in a similar setting before - with her on the hospital bed and John by her bedside. But what's different this time is that John looks troubled somehow. "John, what's wrong?" she asks, looking around to find what has distressed him so much. She sees Dean with a stunned expression on his face and she smiles at seeing him awake and well.

The eldest Winchester comes closer and picks up her hand with a tremulous smile, "I'm glad you're ok Lyra. You know you're the daughter we always wanted, right?"

Now he's starting to really scare her. "What's wrong?" she repeats and turns to Dean but he's still staring at John in bafflement.

"Nothing," John says. "You just take of yourself, alright? And keep my boys from doing anything too stupid."

"John, what-"

She's cut off as John bends down to kiss her forehead. "You'll be fine," he murmurs, almost like a prayer, before pulling away and walking out.

But they turn out to be not fine, after all. Because John dies and Dean drowns in his guilt and Sam regresses to being a teenager with too many emotions and Lyra oscillates between depression and determination - depending on how the brothers feel for the day. Yet the road goes ever on and it takes them on many adventures. They meet new people - some good, some bad; some dead, some alive; some old, some young -

(Lyra enters the saloon to find Sam and Dean being held at gunpoint by two females. Clucking her tongue, she comments, "Why is it that whenever I lag behind a bit, you two end up hostages to the fairer sex?"

"Well, we wouldn't, if you'd just hurry up," Dean retorts, holding his bleeding nose. The blonde girl behind him then shifts her aim to Lyra. Noticing the change, he says to the girl, "Yeah better not point that at her. Last time someone shot her, she blasted her out the window."

Sam gives an exasperated sigh, "Dean."

"She deserved it," Lyra points out testily at the same time.

"As cute as this banter is," interjects the young blonde. "Tell me, why shouldn't we shoot you right here?"

Narrowing her eyes, Lyra answers in a threatening tone, "Why shouldn't I shoot you for hitting him?"

"Lyra," Sam sighs again.

"It's alright, Jo. I believe I know who they are," the older blonde says, lowering her gun. "The Winchesters, right?")

-some men, some women; some happy, some sad; some friends, some foes; and some they kill and some they are killed by. Sam dies and it's too much, too soon. Lyra and Dean are not ready to handle another loss when they're still feeling John's death. She tries to coax Dean out of the fugue he's fallen into and he responds after a while. But this Lyra sees the lurking stubbornness in Dean and recognises that he's about to do something stupid, despite her advice against it. So Lyra, remembering her promise to John, knocks her stubborn husband out and drives to the crossroad to make a deal. She wavers for a moment, second-guessing her decision to sell her soul to the devil's minion, but one glance at Dean's unconscious face in the passenger seat hardens her resolve. If not her, then she's sure it will be Dean making the deal. And at least her life comes with no collateral.

The deal is sealed - her soul for Sam's life. Dean does not take it well when he realises what she's done.

"What did you do!?" he shouts, horror and disbelief lacing his voice.

Lyra speaks calmly despite the slowly sinking reality of her decision, "What you were thinking of doing yourself."

Dean handles it as well as she thought he would. He quickly burns through denial, depression, and bargaining, before getting stuck on anger. The single-minded focus he adopts to somehow get her out of the deal is fuelled by his ever-darkening anger. Acceptance of the fact never comes. Not even when the Trickster makes the brothers live through her death a hundred times. More than half of those deaths are caused by the curse.

("You do realise how ridiculous her curse is, right?" The Trickster asks with his ever-present smirk. "I mean, a leash of half an hour? An insecure wife's wet-dream. Or the easiest pest control.")

But despite their best efforts, the day arrives when the year is up and Lyra has to die. Her death sees Dean again cycling through the stages of grief. And again, he doesn't reach acceptance. This drives the two brothers away and so Sam finds Ruby, while Dean finds demons to kill. In Hell, Lyra breaks the first seal and the Angels descend on Earth to help start the Apocalypse. Castiel goes to Dean to prepare him for his upcoming role in it all, but Dean won't cooperate until he gets Lyra back. So Cas retrieves her and the trio is back together again - for better or for worse.

Warning: Dark themes ahead. Skip till the next line break if you don't want to read Dean being Not Good and heavy references to dub-con.

"Lyra" a voice calls and she turns to find Dean, battered and bruised but alive despite it. He, too, is wearing the white gown and she notices the unmade hospital bed behind him.

"Dean..." she rasps, reaching out to him.

He comes closer to take her hand and presses it to his forehead as he sits hunched on the chair. "You weren't supposed to do that," he says brokenly.

"Do what?"

"Almost die. Again," he answers, raising his head to stare at her.

Lyra smiles softly at him and withdraws her hand from his hold to stroke his face. "But I'm not dead. I'm alright. Everything's fine."

He shakes his head miserably, "No, nothing's fine. Dad's gone."

"What do you mean he's gone?" she asks in alarm.

"He's gone," Dean repeats with a faraway look in his eyes. "He saved me and it's my fault."

"Dean..."

"It's just us now. You, me, and Sam."

And so it was. The trio went back to hunting, intent on killing Azazel once and for all. And it's nostalgic in how it's the same but not. It's the same old Impala, same old monsters, same old banters, same old people-

("Good to see ya again, Lyra," the older man says as he gives her a one-armed hug.

"Bobby!" She greets warmly.

He motions towards the brothers who've already gone inside, "Tell me, that idjit treating ya right?"

She smirks at the glare Dean throws back at her and answers in a cheery voice, "I don't know, Bobby Maybe he needs some pointers."

"No doubt 'bout that," he replies, snorting. "Ya need all the help ya can get to keep him on the straight and narrow."

She laughs at that, "Oh, I'd given it up as a lost cause long ago."

Bobby cracks a smile as he remarks, "I don't blame ya.")

-same old dingy motels, same old greasy food, and the same old endless road which brings the same old dangers with it. Sam falls prey to one such danger and dies. Lyra asks Dean to not do anything stupid, he still goes and makes the deal. Dean asks her to take the antidote to break the curse, Lyra argues and refuses point-blank.

But this Dean, unable to live with the thought that he's killing Lyra too, tricks her. He puts the demon's concoction/antidote in her drink and seduces her. Their sex after that is consensual, but the result from it is not. Lyra is furious when she finds out she's pregnant despite being on the pill.

"You absolute piece of shit!" She screams, storming out of the bathroom and into their hotel room. "You had no right! No right, you selfish bastard!"

Dean knows what she's talking about and he has enough sense to not pretend to be ignorant. "Lyra, what I did-"

"What you did is unforgivable!" Lyra cries out, cutting him off. She's in no mood to listen to his excuses, not now. "Should I alter your body without your consent and see how you like it? Maybe I should just cut off your dick and be done with it. Would serve you right, you asshole!"

She lunges at him, wild with abandon and oh so furious. Sam, who'd been a silent witness so far, moves to restrain her. He asks as she struggles in his sure hold, "What did he do?"

"He raped me! That's what he did."

That's not the answer he was expecting. He looks up at Dean with shocked eyes, "What? Dean!?"

"No, I didn't, Lyra," Dean answers calmly, as the tone is too emotionless to be labelled anything else. "You were pretty willing if I remember right."

Lyra lets out an inhuman shriek, scratching at Sam's arms in her frustration. "I can't believe you right now!" She says, loud and harsh. "Get a new dictionary Dean, because what you did is rape. You gave me something I didn't agree to, and then you proceeded to have sex with me under false pretences. If you think you had my full and free consent, then think again." By this point, Dean has averted his eyes and a hint of remorse colours his hunched shoulders. Lyra takes a perverse pleasure in seeing him like that and so adds, "Admit it. You knew I'd never say yes, that's why you lied and did it anyway. You forced this pregnancy on me, Dean. You…!"

"I did it so that you'll live," Dean replies with a steady voice, despite the sheen of tears visible in his eyes. "I want you to live."

And she laughs - cold and bitter and utterly unlike her. "I hate you. I hate you so much, I can't even! You're no better than the monsters we hunt. In fact, you're worse. Because they never pretended to love you and then go on to hurt you in the worst possible manner." She's started crying now and Sam lets her go as she moves back towards the bathroom. She pauses at the threshold and her tone belies the hurt she's feeling as she says over her shoulders, "You've betrayed me in every way imaginable, Dean. I hope you burn in hell."

Their situation doesn't improve. Lyra neither forgives nor forgets the transgression. And Dean, who thought he could live with an alive Lyra who hates him than have a loving but dead Lyra, finds out that it's easier said than done. Sam handles the tension as best as he can, but even his mediation does nothing for the couple who are forced to stay together despite the breakdown of their relationship.

Lyra thinks of aborting the child or simply walking out and dying. But refusing a chance to live and refusing it once the chance has already been given are two different things. She realises that she doesn't want to die after all. And where before she had trouble imagining her future without Dean, she no longer wants him in it. But Sam is helpful enough that she cannot resent him too. So she lives on as a bitter and stronger version of herself.

When Lucas is finally born and her curse broken, she leaves the brothers without a backwards glance. Her father's lawyer already has everything set up for her and so she moves back to Vegas. The day that Dean is supposed to die, she texts a simple 'I'm sorry' to Sam. He doesn't reply. There's no Winchester in her life, apart from Lucas, for almost 3 peaceful years before Dean turns up out of the blue. Of course, he'd come back from the dead. What is Hell for Dean Winchester after all? She's tempted to shut the door in his face, but his haggard and broken expression stirs pity in her. "Sammy's dead," he says. Ah, here we go again. But who knew raising a kid would finally soften her up towards him? So he stays. And time really does heal all wounds. Or so she finds out.

"Lyra" a voice calls and she turns to find a woman with an ethereal smile and her hand outstretched. "Come, it's time."

And Lyra understands immediately. She had escaped the clutches of the grim reaper before, she doesn't think she'll get another pass this time. "It's too soon," she protests. She remembers staring in Death's face as the yellow-eyed demon had pinned her and sliced her open, but had she not woken up before? Waking can only be a good sign, right? What had gone wrong after she fell unconscious again?

"Death is neither early nor late," the reaper answers as she folds her hands behind her back.

But Lyra isn't interested in empty rhetoric, "Why? How!?"

A sigh escapes the pale lips of the reaper, "Your injuries are extensive. Internal bleeding and severe blood loss have led you to us."

It's all that demon's fault. Why her? Why now? "I don't want to die. Please," Lyra begs with tears in her eyes.

The reaper shakes her head, "It's time, my child. Come."

Desperation starts to set in as Lyra looks around for an escape. She sees Dean's unmoving form on the bed next to her and she wants to reach out and cling to him for life. "What about Dean? And Sam and John? I can't leave them behind."

"They'll be fine," the reaper assures her. "Life will go on as it's meant to, even without you there to witness it."

"I'm scared," she admits in a small voice, facing the black-haired woman again.

"There is nothing to fear. Do you not have family to meet in the afterlife?"

She does. Her parents must be waiting for her and the thought gives her courage. "There's an afterlife?"

"Why don't you find out?"

The reaper is probably breaking the first rule in the 'Grim Reaper Rulebook' by being so chipper instead of being, you know, 'grim'. But Lyra is comforted by the gentle smile worn by the reaper. Death can't be so bad if she gets to see her parents again. "Can't I wait to say goodbye?"

"Would goodbye lessen their grief? Or would it make your passing more difficult?"

And Lyra realises that no amount of forewarning can really prepare anyone for a loved one's death. She's dying young, nothing will make it hurt less. Not even goodbye. She wishes she can stay longer, but how many times can one cheat death? She's been living on borrowed time as it is. So with a final wistful glance at Dean, she rises and goes to the reaper. As they start to walk away, Lyra hopes to see Sam and John one last time, but she finds only strange faces around her. When they reach the exit where a bright light waits for her, she thinks she hears Dean call her name. She turns at the last moment to see Dean with a stricken expression on his face before he starts running towards them. But it's too late as the light consumes her and she's transported to her Heaven, never to return.

"Lyra" a voice calls and she turns to find a doctor standing with a patient smile on her tired face. "How are you feeling now?"

"Heavy," she answers in a hoarse voice.

"Understandable. You had us worried with the blood loss. It was touch and go for a while," the doctor informs as she sets down her clipboard and moves to the bedside table to get her water. That's when Lyra notices the sleeping figure on the chair to her left. Sam is clutching her hand and sleeps bent over with his head resting on his forearms. It looks a painful position to be in given his gigantic stature. "He's rarely left this room," the doctor comments as she helps her drink the water. "You're lucky to have such a caring husband."

And Lyra chokes at that. Coughing, she wipes her mouth weakly before clarifying, "He's not my husband." She looks around and spotting Dean intubated on the next bed, gestures to him, "That one is."

"Oh. I'm so sorry for assuming," says Dr. Ackerman - as her tag reads. "I should've known, considering this unusual arrangement. We don't keep two critical patients in the same room."

Lyra gives a wry smile, "You wouldn't have two patients to treat if you'd kept us apart."

Dr. Ackerman grows uncomfortable, a frown marring her features as she replies, "It wasn't until you started choking on nothing and we heard liquid in your lungs - when there was none before - that I conceded to what he'd been demanding all along." She points to Sam as she relays that and she looks as if she'll continue but decides not to.

"It's better you don't ask, doctor."

"Yes, let me retain my faith in science."

Turning to watch Dean with a worried frown, Lyra asks, "How is he?"

The doctor gives a tight smile, "Only time will tell."

But it isn't time that decides Dean's fate, rather his father's determination to save him and, of course, the Winchester Martyr Complex. The trio ends up on the road again and it's just like old times but not quite. Because there's no John to chase after now. Their new quarry is Azazel - the yellow-eyed demon. And in his relentless pursuit, they have many experiences worth recounting. Whether it be the too real memories they make or the surreal incidents that can only come with the life of a hunter-

("What did you see in there?" Sam asks her as they both stare at the TV while ignoring Dean's distressed sleep noises. "In the world the djinn had created?"

Lyra glances at him before turning her attention back to the bright screen. "My parents were alive and I was home in-between semesters. There was no curse. I'd never met you guys." What she doesn't tell him is that she'd had a boyfriend in that world and loving him had seemed both wrong and right at the same time. She cannot put it into words even if she wanted to.

Sam smiles at her, wondering what world he would've seen for himself. "A life with no Winchesters - seems like a good world to be in," he comments, his sincerity not quite hidden by the teasing tone.

"Yes," she agrees readily.

"Did you want to stay?"

And the answer is as easy as the previous one, "No."

"Why not?" he enquires, baffled with her choice.

"What? Stay and leave you two morons to save the world alone?" she jokes, rolling her eyes for effect. "You won't get rid of me so easily, Sam!"

"Good," he says and means it.)

-or the unreal moments when even the Winchesters have trouble holding onto their sanity. For Dean, it comes in the form of Sam's death. And so, ignoring whatever Lyra says, he goes and makes the deal and in return, Lyra refuses to take the antidote. Dean pleads and pleads but she doesn't budge. Yet it's Sam who persuades her to live.

"Please, Lyra," Sam says beseechingly, taking her hand between both of his. "You have to live."

"Sam..." she responds in a sad voice. "You know I can't give you what you ask."

He meets her eyes earnestly, "You can."

Lyra shakes her head, "It's not that easy. I can't become a mother just to live longer. Parenthood is no walk in the park. I can't."

"I'll be there with you. Every step of the way," he assures her. "I won't leave you, I promise you that."

She gives him a sceptical look and asks rhetorically, "You want me to believe that you'll play house with me while Dean plays the devil's dancing monkey in Hell? That you won't chase after him, trying to get him out the moment he dies?"

Sam wavers for a moment before he answers in a solemn tone, "Yes, I won't. If it means you stay."

She smiles humorlessly at him as if indulging him in his impossible fantasies. "You'll resent me sooner or later if you do that."

"I won't, I swear," he tells her. "Lyra, please just... I can't handle another. Not after mom, Jessica, Dad, and now Dean. You've to stay. For me, please. I won't..." He trails off but she seems to understand what he cannot admit in words.

"I thought you hadn't given up on finding a way out of the deal," she remarks, trying to read his mind through his eyes.

He looks away, unable to meet her gaze for long, "I haven't."

But his voice reveals more than he intends to and Lyra realises he's aware that they can't afford to hope in their line of business. So she gives in at last because how can she condemn him to be alone when she fears the same? Is she not being selfish while he struggles with the guilt of being the cause of their impending deaths? "You promise I won't have to do it alone?" she asks, needing the reassurance.

"I promise."

And so it happens that Dean lives to see his son be born. But it's Sam who's there to see James' first smile, hear him laugh, rock him to sleep and be the father that Dean couldn't be. Lyra and Sam get a house and settle down in domestic life. If Sam sometimes chafes at the stagnant lifestyle, he never says, and if he sneaks out at odd hours without any explanation, Lyra never mentions it. When Dean comes back from Hell, he watches them from afar and seeing the normalcy of their lives, decides to leave them be. But Angels and Demons never waited for anybody and hence soon, he has to return to ask for help in tracking Anna.

The moment Lyra sees Dean with Sam at their porch, she knows her life has irrevocably changed yet again. "Dean..." she whispers wide-eyed, holding a fussing Jamie in her arms.

"It's really him," Sam supplies, smiling hesitatingly.

"Lyra," Dean says, moving to stand in front of her. His eyes stray to the 9-month old baby and he raises an unsure hand towards him, but James turns away and reaches for Sam instead. A pained look passes his face, before Dean covers it up with a smirk and jokes, "Damn right I look scary!"

Sam easily takes James from her and goes inside, leaving the other two to talk. But Lyra doesn't know how to treat Dean now. What can she say? Welcome back? I missed you? Glad you're alive again? Nothing seems right. So she just hugs him tightly for a long moment, burying herself in the familiar arms and then leads him inside without uttering a word.

After putting Jamie to bed, the three gather in the kitchen to talk. The brothers tell her that Dean wants to borrow Sam for some time to help on a case. She refuses to let him go. "No. Sam can't go," she declares to the room at large.

"Lyra, it's just for one case," Sam reassures her. "I'll be back soon. Couple weeks at most."

She turns to glare at him, "The last time you left with Dean for just a case, it didn't end well. Remember?"

"That was then," Sam says testily, returning her glare at the reminder of Jessica.

"Yes, and this is now," she retorts, her voice fierce. "You've much larger responsibilities here. It's not just me you'll be leaving!"

Dean shifts uncomfortably where he sits because this is sounding more and more like a domestic spat and he isn't sure if he wants to witness it. He doesn't know if he can.

"I'm aware," Sam replies, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "I'll be back before you know it. You and Jamie will be fine. But Dean needs my help right now."

She whirls on Dean then, asking in an angry tone, "And where were you all this time? You said you came back months ago. Why have you come here? Why now?" That's not a fair question, she knows, but she's scared enough that it doesn't matter right now.

"Lyra!" Sam shouted.

Her eyes tear up as she looks back at Sam imploringly, "You promised! You said you won't leave me."

He comes around to kneel by her chair and places his hands on her shoulders to turn her towards him. "I'm not leaving you. I'll return as soon as I can, I promise."

"Don't," she orders quietly, staring at him with unblinking eyes. "Don't make another promise. Just keep your last one."

And Dean has to look away as the moment becomes too private for him to see. Isn't that a funny thing? That he has to give privacy to his wife and his brother now. Or is it ex-wife since technically, he'd died? When had his life become a cheesy soap opera?

He relaxes the fist he'd subconsciously clenched and tries to keep his expression neutral as Sam goes to pack, once again leaving the two alone. But Lyra still sees through him.

"I know what you're thinking," she tells him while staring at the door Sam has just left through. "And I don't know whether to confirm or deny it. Because neither is true."

"I'm not-" He tries to speak but she continues over him.

"Sam and I - we mourned you together. And then we raised Jamie together too," she says, finally meeting his eyes. "Death and Life - they both tend to bring people closer. And we were no exception to that."

Dean says nothing in return. Because if he says that he understands, it'll be a lie, as he doesn't. Not yet. And he cannot blame them either, because it's his own decisions that have led them here and now. He's made his bed, now he has to lie in it.

Sam kisses her forehead as they leave - a lingering kiss that speaks more than they do. Dean, on the other hand, cannot even bring himself to hug her. It seems petty, but he doesn't think it wise to be affectionate now. Lyra, for her part, is thankful that he simply waves in goodbye before getting in the Impala. She knows not where they stand in their relationship now and with Sam co-parenting James, it's too complicated to sort so soon.

For days Lyra lives in the fear that Sam won't come back. But he proves her fears unfounded when he keeps his promise and returns two weeks later. If only for a little while. Sam comes back for long enough to become Jamie's first word (da-da) and to see him turn 1 year old. But Dean soon turns up again at their doorstep looking for help and Lyra hates him. She doesn't bother asking Sam to stay this time because she knows he won't. The bond between the brothers is too strong for that and Sam's blood has always been restless - thirsting for the thrill that hunting provides. So he leaves once more, and this time, he doesn't come back.

Lyra doesn't see either brother for a long time. She starts working from home to support them and grows used to a life on her own with just Jamie for company. It isn't until her son's almost 3 that Dean comes knocking once again. This time to stay. He says that they averted the Apocalypse and Sam sacrificed himself for it. And so James has lost a father once more. But Lyra has no energy to be angry at them for it. Not anymore. So Dean stays and James calls him papa and that's enough. At least for a while.

"Lyra" a voice calls...

Dean dies and goes to Hell. Lyra too dies but doesn't leave Earth. She sticks around as a ghost, watching - silently and unseen - as Sam allies himself with Ruby. Sam never realises that she haunts him still. Then Angels ask Castiel to bring Dean back and it's Dean who feels her presence around them. So he asks Cas to bring Lyra back in exchange for his help to the Angels. She's restored to life and they reunite. Even with no curse tying her to Dean now, she still decides to stay by his side. Sam jokes that not even Death could do them apart.

"Lyra" a voice calls...

Dean dies but she survives because of her son. As neither Dean nor Sam is with her, Lyra is rid of the Winchester lifestyle. But though she may have left hunting behind, danger still finds her. When her son dies in an accident, she grieves. And when she learns that the accident was a result of the impending Apocalypse, she rages. Before long, she finds herself back in the Impala - saving people and hunting things.

"Lyra"

She dies.

"Lyra"

She lives.

"Lyra"

Again.

"Lyra"

And again.

"Lyra"

And again.

Her body jerked as Lyra woke up. Blinking rapidly against the bright light, she tried to piece together why, when, and where she was. Oh right, the hospital. She'd been awake briefly before too. It felt like she'd been dreaming for a long time and that she'd both seen too much and nothing at all. Not that she could remember any of it. It was all a haze of lingering emotions that she couldn't explain the cause of.

"Lyra" a voice called and she turned to find…

A/N: The tense change was deliberate. If this feels a bit confusing, then I guess it was meant to be. The ending is up to you to pick or imagine.

This is it. The end.

Goodbye! And thank you once again. Have a great life ahead y'all!