Dean: Being away from Dean felt like being in the ocean without a life jacket. Not very comfortable, but not life-threatening, either. You were at the bunker, healing your broken leg, and he and Sam were out on a hunt. He hadn't checked in that day, and you were starting to worry. He always checked in twice a day.
Your phone rang.
You got up and quickly crutched over to where it was, relief flooding your body as you saw who it was. "Dean? Is everything okay?" you asked as a 'hello'.
"Yeah," Dean said. "I'm sorry I didn't call this morning. We were right on the vamps tails."
"You get them?"
"Yeah, we did."
You nodded and sat back down. "Good. You gonna come home?"
"We're already on the road. You should go to bed. We'll be back around eight tomorrow morning."
"I'll sleep on the couch. Wake me up when you get home." You smiled, and you could hear his smile.
"Okay, babe. I love you."
"I love you too."
Sam: The hardest thing you ever had to do was leave Sam. You were being stalked by a demon, and you had to leave. It wasn't safe for them if you were around them. You left a note and booked it in the middle of the night.
Sam had called and called, and you knew he'd tried tracking you. You'd only used paper money and switched cars almost weekly. He couldn't find you. You couldn't let him.
So it was a surprise when you were sitting in a small, ass-crack-of-nowhere diner when someone said, "This seat taken?" You knew the voice. Sam was standing next to you. But you couldn't let him sit down. You couldn't. Because then you would fall right back into his arms, and put him in more danger.
"Yeah, sorry, my boyfriend's in the bathroom," you said, not looking up.
"No he's not."
You sighed. "Sam, please," you whispered. "You need to leave."
He sat down. "No," he said. "Not this time. You don't have to do this alone."
"Yes, I do. It's too dangerous."
He sighed, taking your hand softly. You closed your eyes as he ran his thumb across the back of your palm. "No," he whispered. "We can help you. Just please let us. No more running."
You looked at him. "No more running," you agreed softly. Both of you leaned forward and your lips met for a long, soft kiss. A kiss that said "it's been too long" and "I'm sorry" and "I love you" and "I missed you" and "I'm sorry too".
Castiel:
You couldn't run from Castiel. You'd try, but he'd always find you, and he'd always tell you that no matter what happened, you never had to run.