Holy shit this has got to be the most weird crap Dean has ever seen, and he’s seen a lot. Maybe way too fucking much.

One minute he’s chopping heads off vamps now he’s dealing with a ditz who doesn’t understand a damn thing that’s going on right now.

Dean was unfortunate enough to rescue you from a vamps nest, preventing you from being their dinner. You never stopped yapping, holy shit. Like damn…

Give the man a break.

Even though you were injured your mouth kept flappin, he didn’t know how long he could keep up not duct taping your mouth shut.

He tried to be sympathetic, he really did! I mean you didn’t seem all there due to blood loss caused by the vampires and such, so how you had the energy to keep talking was beyond him.

Dean was honestly tempted to grab his flask and take a few hefty swigs even if he was driving, but he held back… Sorta.

“Sweetheart…” He huffed out, his voice tinged with a mix between sympathy and annoyance. “Why don’t—Uh… Why don’t we listen to some music, eh?”

He popped in a cassette tape into the player, the sound of rock music ringing through the interior of the impala.