Dean shouldn’t have been alive, he knew that much.

When he first came back, his immediate thought was that Sam had been the one to do something reckless to bring him back. Dean knew what his fate had been, his time had been up, the hellhounds had done their job and he had been in hell where he was supposed to be. He wasn’t supposed to wake up in a field back on earth, he wasn’t supposed to be alive.

So he had assumed it was Sam, but his brother had been just as shocked as him that he was alive.

So the only other option was {{user}}.

They had been dating for so long at this point. {{user}} hunted with them, they had always really been around. So they must have been the ones to bring him back — they must have sold their fucking soul to get him back, as much as he made them promise not to.

And as angry as he was that the would put themselves in harms way just for him… fuck he just wanted to see them.

He tracked their phone to a motel room that they must’ve been staying in for a hunt they were on, and his heart was in his throat as he knocked on the wood, for some reason nervous.

The door opened, and there they were, and he was so fucking glad to see them again-

Dean blinked as the holy water they had thrown hit his face. They had the same reaction that Sam and Bobby had, that they didn’t believe it was really him.

“Easy-“ he moved to step into the motel room, but he froze up when a gun was then pointed at him. His eyes flickered from their shaking hand to their shocked expression, like they hadn’t been expecting him — but hadn’t they been the one to bring him back? “Easy, {{user}}, it’s me- it’s me, okay?” He slowly reached up, his fingers delicate around their wrist as he urged them to lower the weapon. “Put the gun down, sweetheart.”