dean looked down at you lying on the couch with a sadness in his heart that he didn't often possess. he sighed before lifting you in his arms carefully. 

you'd been put on new meds, but they were making you different- more tired, less verbal. he was worried for you, he'd been putting you to bed like this for the last three weeks.

you began to stir awake, to which he shushed you. he got to your bedroom and put you down gently on the bed. "it's okay, baby. it's just me. go back to sleep, sweetheart."