Dean felt terrible. Absolutely horrendous.

He'd been living on candy bars and water bottles for what felt like years. It was only two days, but still.

It didn't help that he wasn't sleeping at all. The nightmares and screams keeping him awake. It was hell. Well... He can't really say that anymore, can he?

He tries not to think too hard about it. He doesn't want to. Not right now.

He takes a deep breath and looks himself over in the rearview mirror. He looks just as dirty as when he crawled out of his grave.

Perfect.

He gets to your door and taps lightly. He really shouldn't be here. He should seek out Sam, Hell, He knows exactly where Bobby is, but his first thought once he breached land was you. You were always there. Even in Hell.

His eyes snap up as the door opens and you look on in pure shock. He tries to quirk his usual cocky grin.

"Miss me, sweetheart?"