OK, for the sake of this story, assume that the big fight went down on Sam's birthday; it makes the story more dramatic, lol. And Dean spent a few nights at Bobby's fixing the windshield of the car.

On Dean's first night at Lisa's, Dean spent almost fifteen minutes crying at her front door. He had no idea how he'd gone the entire drive from Bobby's to her house without crying, but he let it all go the minute he saw her. He couldn't hold it in any more, the deep pain and sorrow over loosing the one person he cared most about in the entire world. After making it to the couch, he cried again on her shoulder while drinking his beer. He cried so hard he thought he would throw up, and she stayed by his side the entire time, whispering that everything would be okay. Dean cried until he fell asleep.

On Dean's second night at Lisa's, Dean didn't cry once. He'd spent most of the day sitting in the kitchen, just thinking. He hadn't said much since arriving the day before and Lisa could see that talking about whatever was going on wouldn't be a good idea right now. Dean slept that night in the guest bedroom, or at least, that's where he spent the night. He couldn't sleep at all, he just kept reliving the fight with Lucifer several days earlier, and how he'd have to see his brother beating the crap out of him.

On Dean's third night at Lisa's, he'd gotten blind drunk after both her and Ben had gone to bed. He'd left the house for the first time in two days, only to go out and buy as much liquor as he could. He drank down all of it that night, sitting in the guest bedroom. He wasn't sure exactly what he wanted from drinking this much. Did he want to die? Did he just want to kill the pain of watching both your brothers fall into Hell? He passed out between bottles of whiskey, and had a dreamless sleep for the first time in months.

On Dean's fourth night at Lisa's, he gave up all hope of sleeping in the guestroom that night, especially after waking up that morning to Lisa slapping him across the face and yelling at him for being irresponsible. He hadn't had any liquor all day; Lisa had refused to give him any and had poured the remainder of what he'd bought down the sink. After hours of tossing and turning, Dean got out of bed and walked to Lisa's bedroom. He cracked the door open and saw her lying in bed, on her side facing away from the door. She looked peaceful but Dean knew she wasn't asleep. He stepped carefully into the room and she shifted position, turning further towards the window. He apologized softly to her for what he'd done the night before. She rolled to face him, but said nothing, only pulling the covers back and patting the bed beside her. He climbed in and curled up next to her. That night, Dean got the best and most restful sleep he'd had in years.

On Dean's eighth night at Lisa's, Dean started to long for more than just sleeping next to Lisa, with her warm body pressed against his side. So that night when he climbed into bed with her, he ran his hand softly down her side and leaned in to kiss her neck. She took a deep breath and told him they shouldn't be doing this, not after what he'd been through in the past two weeks. Dean said nothing, but continued to caress and kiss her. Finally it was too much for both of them and they gave in to the desire that had been building for days. Dean slept peacefully that night.

On Dean's tenth night at Lisa's, Dean had sat down for dinner with her and Ben. It had been a week since his getting drunk stunt and though Lisa had frowned at him as he poured himself a drink to have with dinner, she said nothing. Dean sits at the table and doesn't notice the man standing on the sidewalk, below a newly busted streetlight, as he watches them eat dinner. Dean doesn't see the man turn away, hanging his head sadly as he leaves. Later that night, after making love again, Lisa asks Dean to stop drinking. Dean tries to convince her that he's fine, but with one look she manages to shut him up and he reluctantly agrees. That morning by the time he wakes up all the liquor and beer is gone from the house.

On Dean's eleventh night at Lisa's, Dean is in hell, his own personally created hell, having not had anything to drink in twenty-four hours. Lisa helps him as much as she can, but she knows there's not much she can do for him. She wants to take him to the hospital, but he refuses. She cries as she realizes that Dean may actually want this to kill him, she's seen how tough living without his brother has been on him. When he falls into a fit full sleep that night she calls a friend of hers, a doctor.

On Dean's twelfth night at Lisa's, Dean is still feeling like crap, but the medications that Lisa's friend has given him is making him feel slightly better. He stays up late that night, long after Lisa and Ben have gone to bed. He promises Lisa that he won't do something stupid; instead, he sits at her computer and looks up AA meetings. After finding one fore the next morning, he shuts the computer down and crawls into bed with Lisa. She's already asleep, so he just curls up next to her, breaths in her scent and feels her warmth.

On Dean's fifteenth night at Lisa's, he came home from a long day out to find Lisa worried out of her mind. She almost slapped him before she realized that he didn't reek of alcohol. He leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips before telling her that it was ok, he was sober now. He told her that he'd found a job. Sure, it wasn't much, but if being a mechanic was good enough for his father when he was raising a young family, it was good enough for him, too.

On Dean's twentieth night at Lisa's, he was exhausted. He'd been getting up early to go to AA meetings and then going to work. Ten hour days, five days a week, with a half hour for lunch everyday. Tomorrow was his first day off, the first day since he'd started working there that he could sleep in. He was surprised at how quickly he'd fallen into line in his happy, apple-pie life. It surprised him how easy it was; how relaxing it could be. It felt good to wake up every morning next to someone, and how fulfilling it was to come home to someone every night.

On Dean's twenty-second night at Lisa's, he lies awake in bed, long after Lisa's fallen asleep next to him. Today was the first day since he was five years old that he'd attended church. He had to admit to himself that he was terrified walking into that building this morning, unsure if God would strike him down for trying to go into a church after adamantly refusing to be Michael's vessel. He felt completely out of place there, and was nervous as all hell. He could have sworn once when he glanced around himself, that he saw Castiel out of the corner of his eye, and that he was actually smiling. But when he looked again, there was nothing there. Dean closes his eyes and falls into a restful sleep.

On Dean's twenty-sixth night at Lisa's, Dean goes to bed worried. Lisa has been waking up early every morning for the past few mornings, sick to her stomach. Dean's afraid this is his punishment for his part in the apocalypse, now he has to watch everyone he cares about die. Dean considers leaving, but that will only hurt Lisa more, and if she dies then someone will need to take care of Ben. Dean really, really wants to have a drink, but he knows that he can't do that. He's been sober for fifteen days now, and he can't go back on his promise to Lisa that he wouldn't drink again.

On Dean's thirty-first night at Lisa's, he sits on their bed holding a plastic stick in his hands. Lisa handed it to him after he returned from work that evening and he'd sat down heavily on the bed as she explained what it meant. Lisa was pregnant, again. So many different emotions flew through his mind. First he was scared, then happy, then terrified. He almost cried when he thought about how happy Sam would be to learn that he was going to be an uncle. He looked up at her and smiled. Placing the stick on the bed next to him, he walked up to her and kissed her. He was going to be a daddy; this was possibly one of the best days in his life.

Please read and review, more to follow, I promise; I actually have a direction for this one.