You were going to kill him. Dean couldn't keep his hands clean lately. He kept having little run ins with law enforcement. The only difference was that he couldn't get away with faking his own death anymore. He was alive, and everyone knew it. He was damn lucky that the officer had been kind enough to let him and Sam escape. Getting lucky like that would not happen again, most likely.

You were worried, rightfully so. How many more times would he be able to pull something off like that? It was better to play things safe. It's not like that was Dean's style though. He didn't play is safe. He never had. He took a lot of unnecessary risks.

This life style was hard enough. Having to constantly worry about Dean winding up serving a life sentence didn't help. Having that added to the stress was making you sick with worry. Dean wouldn't listen though. He insisted that he was doing fine. That he would never a faulty get caught. You were tired of listening to that bullshit.

"You made it into the Fed's database!" You practically yelled. Dean was being unreasonable. He needed to listen to reason for once in his life. At this point you would even settle for him being a little more careful. "I think that warrants being a little more careful, at least until things die down."

"You need to calm the hell down," Dean muttered. He was tired of your nagging, or that's that's how he was describing this conversation. Even if you were only concerned for him and trying to help.