The Girl With A Past ((Completed))

Dean

Why won't they just go away?

He remembered Sam jumping into the cage with Lucifer, Michael trying desperately to stop them, only to be dragged down with them. It'd been a year, and they were still stuck. Dean had wanted so badly to do something to get his brother back, but he'd made Sam a promise. He wouldn't try or do anything to get him back; he would go to Lisa and Ben, hoping they would take him in, and have the normal life Sam thinks he deserves. And that's exactly what he did.

Then he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist, a head nuzzling into his broad shoulder. "Something smells good." A soft, sweet voice said in his ear.

"Well, whether it's the eggs, sausage, or pancakes currently burning in the pan is up to you." Dean joked, smiling as he felt a pair of soft lips on his neck, kissing all the way up to his jaw. Dean smiled and turned around in their arms, looking down into Lisa's doughy brown eyes, surprisingly vibrant for being so full of sleep.

Her lips formed into a pout, and her eyes got big. "Why do you have to be so tall?" She complained, and Dean noticed she was standing on her tip-toes. He sighed, dramatically.

"I don't know." He answered, having done this many times before. He turned back to the stove, forcing Lisa's arms off of his waist. "Maybe you should go and find yourself someone more your size, maybe with a big house and a nice mortgage, slightly less attractive, because let's face it, no one is hotter than me." Dean joked dramatically. He heard Lisa sigh and felt her arms around his waist once again.

"Well, I guess I can get used to it." She gave in, laying her head on Dean's shoulder. He tipped his head, laying it on Lisa's. He flipped the pan, tossing the pancake into the air and catching it. He let it sit and turned back around, smiling at Lisa. "At least I can still do this." She said, leaning on her toes and tilting her head up, her lips gently pressing against Dean's. He smiled against her lips, placing his hands on her waist, pulling her closer. Dean leaned down so she didn't have to be on her toes.

"Dean!" A new voice yelled enthusiastically from the stairs. Dean pulled away from Lisa, turning back to the stove and sweeping up the pan with the pancakes. He flipped it over, dropping the pancake on the stack of other pancakes. Then he swooped the plate up and swung it around, over Lisa's head, and set it on the table in front of where the boy had sat down.

"Mornin' Ben!" Dean exclaimed, going back for the eggs and sausage. He filled two plates with them and placed them in front of Ben and Lisa. He took the milk out of the fridge, pouring some into his and Lisa's glasses, filling Ben's with orange juice instead.

The three sat and stuffed their faces with the amazing breakfast Dean whipped up for them, too busy chewing to talk. Then Lisa spoke up.

"Oh, Dean! Someone called last night, asking for you, older man, really gravelly voice." She explained, catching Dean's attention. It sounded like Bobby; who else knew about him? He lifted an eyebrow as she continued. "Well, it wasn't really a call; he just left a message. Something about something that happened a year ago, a cage, and someone named--"

Just then, Lisa was cut off by the doorbell going off. Dean passed Lisa a confused look before slowly rising from his chair and making his way to the door, Lisa on his heels. When he opened the door he was shocked speechless. Happiness, pain, confusion, anger, all these emotions battled for dominance at the sight of who was at the door.

"Sam." Lisa finished her story from the table.

Sam smiled big when he saw Lisa with Dean, knowing he'd had the normal life he deserved, and feeling guilty for having to stomp on it. Dean pulled Sam into a big hug, Sam hunkering down slightly so he could fall in his brother's arms, and Dean squeezing him tighter than ever before. Tears stung Dean's eyes as he rejoiced. He hadn't seen his brother for a year, since he jumped in the cage and left Dean beaten and bloody in that cemetery. Cas had healed the wounds on Dean's body, but he could never have fixed the wounds in his heart. Then Dean actually registered what was happening.