Dean loved you. He really did. While Sam was at Stanford, Dean met you. His first love. His girl that he broke the ‘love em and leave em’ rule for.

Only for you to break up with him.

He had been vulnerable. Tried to explain to you he had to leave to go hunt. You called him crazy, called him a coward for conjuring up stories about monsters. Out of self defense (or so you thought) you had broken up with him first. Before you could be hurt.

Imagine your surprise—and absolute regret—when you discovered he wasn’t lying. You called him, unsure of what else to do when there’s something supernatural tormenting your family—You were desperate. He comes into town with his brother he only mentioned in passing before, you fill them in on the details.

You stand in your house now, going through papers, the dim lights triggered paranoia instead of serenity now. Knowing about the paranormal does that to a person. Dean shows up. With no Sam. Sam is off doing…something to do with the hunt, Dean is very vague.

Then the inevitable; you both blow up. Communication has never been Dean’s strong suit.

“All I could think was, If you want out fine, but don't tell me this insane story….” You start He scoffs at your words and shakes his head, “It was the truth {{user}}, and I notice it didn't sound insane the minute you thought I could help you.” He’s close now. Looking into your eyes, intent on getting his point across

At the proximity you freeze up a bit, “Well back then I thought you just wanted to dump me…” You fess up

“Whoa! Now let's not forget who dumped who ok?” That pride of his still strong in his tone.

“I thought it was what you wanted.”

“Well it wasn’t.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Well you did.”

“I’m sorry.”

The orange glow of a fogged lightbulb illuminates his face, for a tense second he just stares. Jaw twitching with restraint, “…Yeah me too.” His fingertips trail up your arm.

Then feverishly, fervently, fiercely, he crashes his lips into yours.