The three of you sat in the library, all working on your own things. Sam sat in front of his laptop, tapping away, the clicking of the keyboard the only noise that floated through the bunker. You were neck-deep in a new book that you had gotten your hands on at a thrift store during the last job you’d worked a few towns over. It was some sappy love story that made your heart flutter and your face blush and you would never be caught dead reading it - which is why you’d ripped off the front cover. Dean sat closest to you, swirling around a glass of whiskey that was a sip from being empty. The silence between the three of you was comfortable and welcomed in your hectic lives. That was, of course, until Dean couldn’t sit still any longer.

“Okay I am officially ready to rip my eyes out,” He announced, standing and wiping his hand down his face. Sam stuttered a laugh and shook his head.

“Go kill something, you’re nicer when you're not bloodthirsty.” Sam finished, his eyes never leaving the screen in front of him. You smiled and looked up at Dean.

“You hungry? I can whip something up for dinner.” You asked, peering up at the elder Winchester. He looked at you pointedly.

“Y/N, in all fairness, the last time you cooked, I was feeling it for the rest of the week - and not with my mouth.” He squinted, wincing inaudibly. You rolled your eyes.

“Fine - starve for all I care,” You stood up and put your book under your arm. “I’m gonna go see what we have.”

“I think I might hit the sack, a nice afternoon delight don’t sound all that bad right about now.” Dean said to your back as a yawn interrupted his words.

“Dean you do realize what an afternoon delight is right?” Sam scoffed, amusing no one but yourself. Dean shrugged.

“Yeah, it’s the afternoon and it's delightful.” Dean’s voice dripped in sarcasm as his feet padded down the hallway. You turned and caught Sam’s eye, the both of you chuckling lightly. As you stepped into the kitchen, you reached for the light. The pantry in the open shelves was more than bare, only a box of pancake mix and a dwindling loaf of bread was in sight. You walked over and opened the fridge. 2 beers sat at eye level and a head of browned lettuce sat next to it. You tossed the lettuce and closed the fridge, grabbing the keys to one of the cars in the garage and searching for your coat. 

“Hey Sam, I’m gonna go for a run,” You walked out to the library, just as Sam was closing up his laptop. 

“Y/N, it’s already,” Sam started, looking down at his watch, blinking a few times, “6:30 - can it wait for tomorrow?” His eyes looked heavy as he questioned you.

“Unless you want a heaping plate of oxygen for dinner, no.” You smiled, “It’ll be quick, the longest part is the drive there and back, it won’t take awhile.” You finished, making it obvious that you weren’t asking. Sam nodded and rubbed his eyes. 

“Alright well, I think I might take a nap; I could recite the local news in my sleep at this point, I've read it so many times.” He scratched at his neck. Finally spotting your jacket hanging on the railing of the steps leading to the door, you crossed the room and put it on.

“I don’t blame you, get some rest and when you wake up I’ll have dinner made.” You padded up the iron steps, looking over at his large frame. A smile crawled up his features.

“Y/N, you don’t have to cook for him,” He squinted at you sarcastically, “You could burn the bunker down and he’d still love you.” He finished as you waved your hand at him.

“Shut up Sam.” You replied, snarky. With a small laugh, he turned and walked down the hallway, right as you slipped out the door.

The garage doors opened, letting in a blast of white snow. The road out in front of the drive was covered and it was coming down hard. When you pulled out onto the road, your back tires skidded and lost traction, causing you to fishtail for a brief moment. You slowed down and adjusted to the conditions, driving a little steadier and slower than you usually would. The sky was pitch black, if you didn’t know any better you’d guess it was 2am. As you made your way to the grocery store that was around half an hour away you promised yourself you’d make it quick before the weather got any worse.

Once you arrived, you rushed yourself around the store, grabbing peanut butter, jelly and bread for sandwiches, then grabbed some bacon, pie and lunchmeat. You made sure to get some salad, croutons and dressings for Sam, as well as some frozen fruit so he could make smoothies for after his morning jogs. After gathering together some pasta, chips and miscellaneous items you headed for the only open register. You got back into your car and checked the time. It was almost 8:00 and you’d spent well over 45 minutes in the store. Cursing at yourself slightly, you started up your car and slowly moved on your way back to the bunker. 

The snow had laid down thick, leaving an icy blanket across the pavement, your tires crunching it beneath their weight as you prayed you’d make it back. It had begun to sleet, the freezing rain making your windshield wipers useless. Your wheels were slipping and even time you slowed down, your breath hitched, fully expecting not to get moving again. You came to an intersection, looking around at your options. Straight ahead, there was more traffic, but not a straight shot home. To your right was a back road that led almost right to the bunker’s front door. You hesitated. Taking a breath you decided that maybe going the quicker route would leave you with a better outcome. 

You pulled the wheel, moving down the beaten path. Just as the final streetlight left your vision, your car slowly took you off course, slowly fishtailing into a ditch. You yanked the wheel in the opposite direction and smashed the accelerator, but it was no use. Your wheels spun as you settled, the right side of your car tipping into the frozen outcove. You looked down at the clock. You’d only made it about 10 minutes. You have got to be kidding me. Patting the pockets of your jacket, you found your phone and switched it on. “No Signal” flashed across the dim screen as if it was taunting you. You slid it back in your pocket and looked around. You reached for the door, but it didn’t budge. You pushed your body weight against it and bounced hard, yet it hardly moved an inch. So much for walking back to the store. You turned up the heat and turned up the music just a notch. Might as well get comfortable. You peered around the back, spotting a wrapped up blanket underneath the bench seat that you’d remembered leaving a few months back. You brought it up front and laid it across you and listened to the drone of the radio.

----

A few hours passed and you checked your phone like you had done every 10 minutes. Still no signal. Sighing, you glanced at the clock. 12:48am. How had they not noticed that you weren’t back yet? A chill slipped down your spine - it wasn’t from the cold that seeped in the sheet metal of the car - What if they’d fallen asleep for the night? You shook your head. No, you promised them food, they never forgot when you volunteered to make dinner. A flashing orange light on your dashboard drew your thoughts away from the boys; Your gas was running low. No gas, no heat. You sat up straight and looked around. There were no cars in sight, everyone preferring to stay inside during the blizzard. You leaned forward and twisted the key in the ignition, the engines’ rumble fizzing out along with the ambient music of the stereo. You sat back in your seat and tried to calm your mind, as the icy chill from outside slipped its way into the  car, minute by minute. 

----

The blanket was doing nothing at this point. Your movements were almost painful, your extremities vibrating with the numbness that fell over them hours ago. You had tried to turn the car on an hour or so ago, but it only sputtered in response. It was 6:57am. Your teeth had stopped chattering around 3 and you hadn’t slept a minute of it. The cold was oddly uncomforting, you couldn’t drift off in the state you were in. Your eyes had grown heavier now, which worried you more than anything. You fought to stay awake, but the cold unconsciousness welcomed you into the darkness. The upside was that you didn’t feel cold anymore; you just felt tingling. The sun had begun to rise, the orange glow casting a dim shadow through the thick snow-covered car. Your eyes fluttered. Stay awake. You tried to sit up but you were just so tired. A loud knock on your window forced your eyes open; you hadn’t even realized you’d shut them.

“Y/N?” A deep voice questioned, muffled by the layers of snow that had settled over your car since you’d landed there. The car shook lightly at first and then violently, until the door crackled and creaked next to your head, allowing the sunrise to pour in. Cold air blasted in the car, your hair whipping around your face. When you opened your eyes, you were met with Dean’s, searching yours. You tried to smile, but you couldn’t feel your face move, his name fell flat on your lips. His hand laid against your face like a hot iron scorching your cool skin. You sucked in a breath and he pulled away. 

“Dean,” You tried, licking your lips, “It’s looking like I’m gonna have to make dinner another night.” You tried to smile but your lips tingled, forcing your laugh sounding more like a wheeze. 

“Don’t worry about dinner, come on.” His brows were pulled up as he looked down at you, pulling you closer to him.

“Dean, it’s been below zero all night,” Sam walked over and whispered to his brother, not so quietly. “You can’t last all that long in weather like that, she ne-” He started, but Dean shot him a look.

“I know Sammy,” He growled, exchanging looks at one another, before Sam turned around and opened the door to the backseat of the Impala. Dean looked back down at you and pulled you up to his chest, holding you close to him. He was so warm. Your eyes fluttered, constantly at war with trying to keep them open. The Impala’s heat was blasting as he settled in the back with you in his lap. Sam walked to the front and pulled out, leaving your car in the ditch. There was no music, only the rumble of the engine drifting through the cabin. You felt like you could sleep for days. 

“Hey, hey, hey, keep those pretty eyes open, alright sweetheart?” Dean’s hand fell onto your cheek again as he held your head up lightly. 

“Dean, I’m-” You whispered and he leaned down closer, “I’m tired.” You slurred, your eyes rolling slightly. 

“C’mon Y/N wake up,” His deep voice pulled you momentarily out of the coma that was dragging you under, “Look at me, keep your eyes on mine, okay?” His face was inches away from yours, his warm breath slipping over your features. You looked up at him again, meeting his worried expression.

“I can’t-” You tried to explain it, but you couldn’t manage the words, “I’m tired.” You finished hardly above a whisper, as your eyes rolled back one last time and your world went dark. The last thing you felt was Dean shaking you. 

----

You woke up to arms surrounding you. Your body was sore and felt like you had gone 7 rounds with Lucifer and your head pounded. You moved your fingers around, feeling them and making sure that they were all still there. Looking up, you connected the arms to a body and the body to a head. Your heart dropped to your toes as you looked up, analyzing every freckle that splayed across his nose. His eye’s flickered underneath their lids. I wonder what he’s thinking. You looked around. You were in Dean’s room, the guns hanging on the walls a clear indicator of the Winchester’s belongings. Slowly pulling his arm off your waist, it suddenly tightened. He grumbled deeply behind you, before roping you back in and laying his hand on the side of your face. Except when you looked up at him this time, he was already looking back at you. 

“Mornin’ Frosty.” He grinned, his voice gravely and sexy. Hearing his voice like this woke up a beast in you that begged to be touched by him. You looked away as the thought ran through your head.

“Very funny.” You mused. His hand pulled your face up, his finger under your chin. 

“I’m not laughing,” He said, his expression blank, “Y/N, you were in zero degree weather for almost twelve hours, do you know how close of a call that is?” He shook his head slightly and leaned up on his arm while looking at you. “Why didn’t you call? I would’ve come, I would’ve got you.” He questioned.

“I had no signal, I tried - it didn’t work.” You shrugged, looking down at your hands. He let out a sigh.

“When I woke up and you weren’t there, I just about tore the place apart,” He ran a hand through his hair, “I thought something had taken you, but then Sam said you’d left to get some food. When I opened the door and saw the weather, I knew you had to be out there somewhere.” His hand reached up and caressed your face, taking you by surprise. “Y/N, I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d lost you.” His voice was hardly above a whisper. You stared at him, eyes wide.

“Dean,” You hesitated, not sure how to take it, “I appreciate you and Sam worrying about me-” You started.

“No it’s not like that,” He shook his head, inching closer to you, “I mean, I don’t worry about you the way Sam does,” He cocked his head to the side, “Well I hope it’s not the same, that would be an issue.” He said more to himself than to you, his eyes drifting past you in thought.

“I’m not sure I follow.” You muttered. His eyes looked down at you again.

“I’m saying that not knowing where you were for a minute there had me going like nothing else.”  His lips were plush and mere inches away from you and you had to mentally remind yourself not to stare at them. And you were failing miserably. “I never want to let you out of my sight again.” He whispered, pausing a moment before leaning in and brushing his lips gently to yours. The blood rushed through you, giving you chills for a whole different reason than earlier. His hand slid through your hair and with his other hand he pulled your body closer to his. You returned the kiss, leaning in, pressing against him harder, When he pulled back, he searched your eyes for a response.

“Then don’t.” You whispered in return, a small grin crawling over your features. He matched your smile and pulled you in. He smelled like old cologne and worn leather and you breathed it in all you could. When he pulled back, he gave you a grin and held your face in his hand.

“God, I have waited so long to do that.” He smirked, his confession taking you by surprise.

“Well, maybe you should do that more,” You shrugged sarcastically, “I don’t hate it all that much.” You beamed up at him, unable to hide your happiness.

“Oh you don’t hate it?” His eyebrows shot up, his words filled with the sarcasm that made you love him, “That’s good, I’m glad you don’t.” He chuckled, pulling you down to his chest. 

You knew that from now on, most of your days would be spent like this; laying on his chest, stealing kisses and exchanging laughs - and you didn’t want to spend them any other way.

----

“Daddy!” Elise protested, but Kyle wasn’t hearing it.

“I refuse. You know hypnotism is not real,” he stated simply, putting his foot down.

“Daddy, if you don’t believe it’s real, what do you have to lose?”

“My dignity. Vic would tease me ruthlessly! Also, money. They’re not free, you know.”

“Since when do you care about money?” Elise asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She swung on his arm, giving him the look he could never say no to.

“No,” he said firmly. Then more uncertainly, “... no...?” Jarred walked up and sat in Kyle’s lap then.

“What are you two arguing about?” He asked curiously.

“I’m telling daddy he should go to a hypnotherapist and see if he can gain his memories back. He’s saying it’s a waste of money and therefore he’ll never do it.” Jarred glanced at his husband when she was done speaking.

“Talk some sense into her,” Kyle insisted, but much to his surprise, his husband took her side.

“Sweetie, you’ll never know what happened for centuries of your life if you never… get this done. You have nothing to lose. We have plenty of money, that is no issue and you know it.” He hesitated when Kyle’s lip quivered ever so slightly.

“Wait a minute…” He twisted in Kyle’s lap to look him dead in the eye. “You’re afraid, aren’t you?” Kyle coughed at this and glared into Jarred’s eyes.

“What are you talking about?” He scoffed.

“You’re afraid of what you’ll see, but why?” Jarred stroked his chin as he stared into his husband’s face. “It’s not like we don’t know what kind of man you were.” Kyle’s lip quivered again. “Are you afraid…” Kyle’s eyes widened slightly and Jarred finally got it. “You’re afraid of losing us?” He guessed. Kyle turned his face away.

“That’s preposterous.”

“Kyle, we’re telling you to do this. It’ll be nice to learn more about your past, things you can’t recall.” Kyle glared at the wall.

“I’m not going to have a choice in this, am I?” He growled.

“You always have a choice, Ky,” Jarred said softly, grabbing the nape of Kyle’s neck and leaning in to give him a kiss. “Come on though. It’ll be a nice little treat for all of us. We can all know you a little better.” Kyle heaved a sigh.