Chapter Seven

"Men of… letters?" Lizzie tried to wrap her head around the large underground warehouse that she currently found herself in.

"Yeah, our grand-dad was a member and that makes us legacies." Dean explained as he leaned against a large table with a map of the world placed inside, happy to show off his new home. "There's like a hundred bedrooms, a target range, a nerdy library for Sam and one amazing kitchen for you. That is, if you still like to cook." He looked her over unsure.

"But what happens when something finds you down here? You're trapped." She dodged the question.

"Fully warded, baby! Nothing gets in here if we don't want it to." He lifted his eye brows and Sam rolled his eyes.

"Here, Liz. I'll show you to your room." He lifted her bags and started toward the resident's hall. They both ignored Dean as he complained out loud about needing her own room, Lizzie excited to still have her own space. When they were a distance away, she chanced a look up at the overly large man.

"Hey, Sam?" Her voice wasn't strong, he knew what was coming but he nodded anyway. "Why didn't you answer my calls?" He stopped, dead in the water and not sure what to say.

"At first I was looking for a way to get Dean back. I took you to the hospital and they said you were stable but in a coma that could last days or years. I sat with you for a week before I left that hospital. It was another month before I heard from you, and then I kept telling myself to focus on Dean, then come back for you. I couldn't face you without him. Eventually I met this girl and decided it was time to move on, and when I found you in a college town living a normal life, I figured you were happier without us. When Dean showed up I tried to tell him you were okay, but he had to see for himself. He came back that night with his tail between his legs, Lizzie. I'm sorry we didn't tell you, but we wanted you to have what we couldn't." His voice was genuine, a little defeated, and she sighed.

"I won't ask you about what you did, if you don't ask me about what I did." The loose forgiveness was enough for Sam.

"Deal." They continued walking for a few minutes, the bunker's expanse filled her with wonder. Her eyes studied its detail; the stone floors, the cinderblock walls covered in drywall with a rough textured paint that started as a dark forest green but met a solid line half way up and ended in an office space yellowed- white. Her fingers reached out to feel the texture as they walked, "It's salt infused. The Men of Letters were an organization that did more than just hunt monsters, they eradicated them."

Lizzie felt her eyebrows meet her already wide eyes, "Eradicated them?" She thought of Garth, Lorraine and of all the monsters she met that were good decent people who had something unfortunate happen to them. It felt too black and white. It felt like genocide. But then she thought of all the good people they lost. Her father, Ellen, Jo and Ash. John and Mary. Her own Mother.

"Yeah, and they still got to live normal lives. I mean, our Grandfather had a wife and Son in town. Could you imagine?" His face was glowing. Poor Sam, he just wanted to be normal. She shook her head and kept walking, taking in room after room. "My room is here, 214 and Dean's is 216. You can have any of the rooms, but it's safest near us. I cleaned and aired out 217 before we left." He stopped in front of a propped open door, a golden 217 glistened above it. "It's good to have you back, Lizzie, but I really am sorry I left you all alone."

And he really was. Lizzie couldn't stay mad at him for giving her exactly what he always wanted, "I'm sorry your life didn't work out either, Sam. I don't… I don't blame you. You only gave me what you've fought so desperately for all these years. What I thought I was always fighting for… but I…" She stopped and contemplated her words, it needed to sound perfect. "I realized I wasn't fighting for a normal life, a picket fence and children… Well, I was fighting for that, but I wasn't just fighting for that. I was fighting for something better. I was fighting for family." Lizzie put a hand on Sam's arm, "My family. You and Dean. And that normal life means nothing without you." She made sure he was watching her, "Both of you. Thanks for knowing I'd want my own room Sam and not holding it against me that I didn't appreciate your gift, but I do understand where it was coming from. Thank you."

Sam breathed a small relief as his stomach muscles released the tension he'd been holding for over a year. He didn't know what it was like to have a sister, but he assumed it was like this. The comradery he'd always had with Dean, but with a sweet understanding instead of tough love. He really had missed it. He gave her a nod and a smile before setting her bags into the room and giving her space.

Lizzie took a long look around her new home. The paint and color scheme continued into the room and she was suddenly very aware it was abandoned in the 1950s. She could tell Sam had dusted to the best of his ability, but there still stood a thin layer of dust on a few things. The bed was freshly made, though, and tucked with military precision and a little love. A shelf lined the wall behind the bed, and it was mostly empty except for an old radio and a lamp. Across from the bed was desk, it also held a lamp, but nothing else.

"Well, how's your new private room?" Dean sneered from the still open doorway, his arms crossed as he leaned against its frame.

Lizzie only smiled, "I love it. It's so… you know it's perfect in some ridiculous us kind of way." She closed the distance and smoothed against the pouting hunter, her arms wrapped around his rigid neck and her body pressed against his still crossed arms. "Dean, you're alive. You're alive and you're here in front of me." Her words were spoken into his neck, and soon her warm breath melted his stance and he flowed around her to scoop her up and carry her to the bed.

"Hello, Thank you! I've been saying that!" He set her down and laid beside her, his arms still wrapped around her tight. "I never thought I'd get to have you again, Liz. I thought you were gone, and it killed me, but I felt even more guilty for wanting to bring you back into this. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't let you have that life." His face buried into her chest and he felt the guilt rise into shame-filled tears. She wrapped her arms around his head, running her fingers through his hair and memorizing the feeling.

"Dean, I…" She knew she couldn't just repeat herself, he needed more. Something real, something he couldn't just feel through the bond. "I did enjoy aspects of that life. I had a smart phone which was pretty cool, I'm definitely keeping that. I loved teaching kids. I loved owning a home and being able to buy cute things to fill it." He looked up at her with red eyes, listening to her every word, she felt his sadness. "But I didn't make one real relationship with anyone after you disappeared from that office building, I guess. Which, can we talk about that? What the hell is up with our lives?"

"Lizzie." He warned.

"Right, sorry, anyway." She got back to her point, "I spent the entire time as an empty shell following what I thought you wanted me to do, to honor your memory. I did what my dad wanted me to do. Hell, I did what Sam wanted to do and finished college. I was still doing what I have always done, Dean, what I will always do." Lizzie stopped to look down at her love, "I was living for my family."

He got it, he really did. He did the same thing the year he thought Sam was in the cage. He lived the life his brother had wanted him to. He ran off with Lisa and left Bobby and Lizzie to hunt without him. Dean remembered how he felt when he found out Lizzie knew Sam had been around the entire time; Angry, of course, but mostly at how much time he wasted living a life he thought Sam wanted, when all he really wanted was Sam. "I get it, Princess."

"That's a relief. I didn't want to have to break out the womanly whiles and seduce you." Lizzie laughed.

"You're such a dork," Dean pushed her onto her back, "And you? Seduce me? Oh no, Singer, I think it'd be the other way around." He buried his face into her neck and she laughed, the first hardy laugh she'd had since she woke up in that hospital. She felt whole.

I missed you.

And I missed you.

The words pushed through the bond as Dean pushed off her clothes, hungry to see her body all over again. She was different then the continued companion in his spank bank, but he loved her new body. It curved in all the right places. Lizzie pushed him away, "I'm sorry, spank bank?" Dean growled and pulled closer, enveloping her lips and eating her words.