"Just calm down, darlin'."

Dean whispers, rubbing your back soothingly as he walks with you downstairs. You're looking into a case where extremely lucky people keep dying and Sam and his new wife Becky just so happen to be crashing every goddamn crime scene.

"You can kill her later, love."

Dean could tell you were pissed. Hell, Dean wanted to rip Becky's head off too, but neither of you could find proof that she was using a love spell yet. Dean laces his fingers through yours when he sees your fists clenching and unclenching, trying his best to keep you stable.

"He's been through enough. Who the hell does she think she is?"

You say through gritted teeth, glaring at both her and Sam as she giggles and Sam stares at her like a lovesick puppy. Something was definitely off with him.

"I know."

Dean sighs, fiddling with his cufflinks. He hated wearing these goddamn suits to fake being FBI. The only good thing about it was that he got to see you dressed up nice and you seemed to really like his suit. Mostly on the bedroom floor, but you liked it on nonetheless.

"Just smile, act normal."

Dean whispers, biting your ear gently as a way to reassure you before guiding you towards the couple.