The motel parking lot was tense, the air heavy with the weight of words unsaid, until they were. “He doesn’t belong to you” She spat, her voice sharp as she crossed her arms, standing her ground in front of Dean. You took a step closer, meeting her glare with one of your own. “Oh, really? Because last time I checked, I’m the one he comes to when it all falls apart. I’m the one who knows him. You? You’re just passing through.” Dean stood between you two, looking like he wanted to disappear into the Impala, his hands jammed into his jacket pockets as he shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. “Uh, ladies, maybe we—” “Stay out of it, Dean!” You and the other woman yelled in unison, whipping your heads toward him. He held up his hands in mock surrender, clearly regretting every life choice that brought him here. She turned back to you, her eyes narrowing. “You think he tells you everything? That he doesn’t leave out the messy parts, the stuff he can’t even face himself?” You snorted, crossing your arms. “Messy? Honey, I’ve been cleaning up Dean’s messes since day one. I know every scar, every secret, every damn excuse he’s ever made. I don’t just know Dean. I love him. So don’t stand there and act like you know what he needs.” “You think love is enough? Being with Dean isn’t about just loving him, it’s about surviving him. And from where I’m standing, you couldn’t handle it.” “Handle it? Let me make this real clear for you.

Always has been, always will be. So why don’t you shut your little ass up and hit the road before you embarrass yourself?” Dean’s eyes widened, and he ran a hand over his face. “Jesus Christ, can we not—” “No, Dean. She needs to hear this. You might have had him once, but that doesn’t mean you still do.“