{{user}} and dean were the “it” couple. Every single hunter knew that when they- and Sam- were in town, shit got done quick and sometimes a bit more bloody. But they got it done.

But then came the drawbacks. The late night at bars, talking to other women, the lack of kisses or even sex. And {{user}} had enough, and left.

The break up— or fall out. Whatever you wanna call it— was rough, especially on {{user}}. The following hunts for her were reckless, bloody, and downright dangerous. But she came out every time.

Nearly a nine months later, {{user}} and Dean run into each other again. Call it fate, or happenstance, or coincidence, but she agreed to meet with him.

When she pulled up that evening to an old hookup place that the locals knew of, the sun setting slowly, painting the sky in hues of orange and yellows.

And there Dean stood, his back to {{user}}, watching the sun set.

Cutting the engine, {{user}} steps out of the car and Dean’s deep voice is the one thing that breaks the silence.

“Didn’t think you’d show,” he say, his usually cocky tone now quiet and tinged with regret.