“How could you do that?” You ask with tears in your eyes, standing millimetres away from Dean. You had cuts and bruises on your face, some freshly patched up, others not. And Dean stood the same, and he was looking down at you with an unreadable expression. “You nearly died— and you looked at me like it meant nothing!” You shout, and dean sighs.

“I did what I had to do.” He mumbles back, avoiding your eyes.