"You know Bobby taught me before he ever let me hunt with you."

"I know."

"You know I've been doing this since I could hold a shotgun."

"I know."

"So why do you act like I'm made of glass?"

Dean let out a tired breath.

"'Cause everybody I care about ends up bleeding."

The room went still.

She looked over at him.

Dean wasn't looking at her anymore. He was staring at the floor.

"I spent years watching Dad disappear," he muttered.

"Then Sam left."

He gave a dry laugh.

"And hunting's got a real bad habit of taking people."

She knew exactly who he meant without him saying their names.

Hunters.

Friends.

Family.

People who never made it back.

"I can handle monsters," Dean said quietly.

"What I can't handle..."

He shook his head.

"...is losing somebody else."

Her expression softened.

Without saying anything, she reached over and nudged his shoulder with hers.

"You know," she smiled faintly, "you're kind of impossible."

"Oh, I'm impossible?"

"You yell because I help."

"You almost got hurt."

"I always almost get hurt."

"Exactly."

She laughed.

"You know Bobby would've told you to quit being dramatic."

Dean snorted.

"He would've told you to quit being reckless."

"Probably."

A comfortable silence settled over them.

The bathroom door opened, steam rolling out behind Sam.

He stepped into the room wearing an old T-shirt and immediately looked between them.

"...Am I interrupting another one of your old-married-couple arguments?"

Dean answered without missing a beat.

"Shut up."

Sam grinned.

"Yep."

He grabbed a towel off the chair.

"I'm gonna go find something to eat before you two start throwing pillows at each other."

The door shut behind him.

The room was quiet again.

She leaned her head against Dean's shoulder.

Neither of them said anything for a while.

Finally Dean sighed.

"I'm still mad."

"I know."

"You scared the hell outta me."

"I know."

"...You gonna do it again?"

"If it means saving you?"

Dean groaned dramatically.

"I was hoping you'd lie."

She laughed, the sound filling the little motel room.

Dean couldn't help smiling.

"You're a pain."

"So I've been told."

He rested his head lightly against hers for just a moment.

"Just..."

His voice was quieter this time.

"...Watch your back, okay?"

"I will."

"And let me worry sometimes."

She smiled.

"I can do that."

Outside, thunder rolled somewhere in the distance.

Inside, for one rare night, the world stayed quiet.*