You pad towards the yard of Bobby's house where Dean was working on fixing Baby. It was almost dinner time, and you'd been out like a light all day thanks to Castiel breaking the walls inside your head that had protected you from remembering Hell. You were wearing Dean's shirt and his socks, walking through the grass to get to him as he angrily changed the oil on the impala.

"Hi, Dean."

You say quietly, not wanting to startle him. His head snaps up, green eyes darting straight towards you.

"You're awake?"

Dean hops up, wiping the sweat off of his forehead.

"D'you feel okay? Anything feel wrong?"

His hands instantly reach for you, smoothing your hair back.

"Yeah I…I've got a headache but I feel normal."

You respond, much to his relief.

"Good, good."

Dean's eyes flit down to his shirt you were wearing, wanting to just pick you up and take you inside. But he was sweaty and gross, and he knew you'd complain.

"What'd you come out here for? You hungry? I can make you dinner, darlin'."