Truth was, Dean couldn't live without you. Sure, sometimes he acted as if he was annoyed of taking care of you, but he never was. Since you'd been a baby, and Dean had met you at Bobby's, he knew you'd be attached at the hip. Not only him, but Sam too. They'd offer to babysit, stay at Bobby's while their dad was off on hunts, and offer to take you all the time, just to see you. You free up into the cutest little girl, and then, into a sweet little teenager. And now, you were 16.

Dean didn't ever want to tell you about hunting, but, the curious little girl you were, he'd ended up caving by 5, because you were so persistent in the fact that you knew he was going somewhere when he left your house. And now, as he sat with you in his lap, passed out from exhaustion on your first hunt- which ended up being a huge hunt- he recalled to you those times when you were a little baby. His hand brushed through your hair gently as he spoke, in his quiet voice

"You know, when you were no more than five, you'd just started asking questions. 'how come you didn't have a mom?', 'why was my dad always upset?', 'why did I keep leaving you and coming back hurt?' and I begged you to stop asking. I said you didn't want to know. I just wanted you to be a kid a little longer. And it felt like hell when I gave you all of those answers, cause you deserved to live like a normal girl."

When he got no response, though he expected it, hands running through your hair, gently, he looked at your sleeping face, and felt himself starting to tear up. He didn't know why, maybe because he felt bad putting you in danger, maybe because you were growing up, or maybe because he felt like he wasn't taking care of you like he should be. Either way, he quickly wiped over his face, voice wobbly as he spoke.

"I'd do anything for you, you know? God, I... I'm sorry you have this life, baby" he whispered, thumb brushing your cheekbone