I wake up to a weight on my chest. A hand is pressed against my skin, lingering over my heart. I feel silky hair in the crook of my neck, the head that it is woven into wavering whenever the owner stirs. Where am I? How did I get here? Open your eyes, Cas. Open them. My eyelids roll back until I'm staring above me. The tin ceiling is constructed of a repeating pattern, and strangely, it puts me at ease. I have seen that pattern before. But where?

"Cas? Are you alright?" I feel the person beside me stir. I feel that her body is small as it shifts, and that her skin is smooth against mine. I know that voice. Eyes wide, I turn to the girl who lies beside me. Her skin has lost its pale tone, now replaced with blushing cheeks and more than a hint of life.

My breaths come out short and jagged. My chest hurts, and I mean really, physically, hurts. I can't feel my fingertips; I assume they've gone cold. Anna. Anna Korlov. My Anna. Her lips are swollen and full; I can practically feel the heat coming from between them. But…how? Anna had been gone for months. I'd let her go months ago. She was in her own Heaven, I had seen to that. So what on earth was she doing here?

"Cas? Cas, you're scaring me. Are you alright, Cas?" She crawls closer to me, and I see her nightgown is white. But unlike every story I'd ever heard about my ghost girl, it isn't covered in blood. I slam my eyes shut. This isn't possible. Anna's gone, Cas. You know this. You let her go to Heaven. It's not real, you idiot. You have to wake up. Wake up, dammit. I feel fingers brush across my lips and start to rub my temple. She had done that before, to comfort me. But unlike all that time ago, I actually feel warmth. I feel skin. I don't feel wind rushing across my features. I feel my girl as if she were alive and breathing.

I feel her lips just after her fingers leave. They start on my jaw and work their way until they are resting on mine. She feels like she's on fire. Or maybe it's just the fact that I've never known Anna to be so warm. I peel my eyes back and that is when I realize I'm awake. Anna is actually here. She's alive and here with me. But how is it possible?

"Anna. Where are we?" I ask shakily. My voice rarely ever breaks, but whenever it came to Anna – who was my one true weakness – I always worried. I've lost her more times than I ever wanted to. And if she is truly here now, I'm never going to let her go. She chuckles. I have forgotten what her laugh sounds like. And I have forgotten how much I fell in love with it.

"What do you mean? We're at home. Where else would we be?" She slinks slowly forward until she's cupping one side of my face into her palm. She rubs her thumb across my cheek, just under my eye. Through the moonlight and shadows that the window has cast inside, I see her grin and it nearly makes my heart melt. If this is a dream, I'm okay with staying asleep for a little longer. I wrap her up into my arms and that is where she falls asleep, with me following shortly after.

Snoring. I hear faint snoring. My eyes open themselves again and I have to turn my head sideways to truly make sure she is there. Her black hair is stretched out to the farthest lengths they will go. It waves out in dark coils around her face as she is curled up on my side. I feel a tear start to creep out from my eye, but I make sure to pull it back before it jumps to its death. Anna is here. Anna is alive. I need to keep reminding myself of that.

I leave her in the bed, covering her up with a quilt that sits sprawled at the foot. I swear I almost see her smile as she feels the warmth. I leave the room, a board in the floor creaking when I put my foot down. Walking into the hallway, I realize where we are. Anna's old house. But this doesn't make any sense. Anna's house was destroyed when she dragged the Obeahman to Hell. When she sacrificed herself to save my sorry ass.

I recognize everything. The couch that I dove behind when Anna was still my dark goddess. The spot on the floor where her mother slit her throat. I cringe. What I would give to have five minutes alone with that woman. I turn around a corner and see the basement door, leading down into the abyss where Anna kept her victims.

I walk out onto the porch, leaning against the side of the house. It's sometime in spring, I'm guessing. The trees are just beginning to grow new leaves, and the snow on the ground is barely visible. I hear the door creak open and I see my ghost girl walk out to meet me. Her arms wrap themselves around my waist, as though she's done it a million times, and my hands find the small of her back.

As we hold each other, I notice that the street doesn't look as dead as it always has. The house has some color to it. Not that the paint is the reason it's so cheery, but it's teeming with life. Birds are singing, I can hear the faint sound of crickets. Some violets are pushing their way through the ground and the house is standing sturdier. It no longer reads "Get the Hell out."

And this is when I tell myself that I wouldn't mind staying here. Anna is here with me, and that's all I would ever need. But what makes me feel even more alive is the fact that I see a rosy hue in her cheeks. The fact that I can feel her chest move when she breathes. The fact that when I was holding her all last night, she felt warm. No. This isn't such a bad place to stay after all.

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