Dean had just poured his heart out to you a week ago about his forty years in Hell, and now he was running the three of you dry with cases. You hadn't been able to catch a break in weeks, and you and Sam were about ready to crash out.

"Found another one."

Dean wakes you, shoving your shoulder a few times to rouse you from your sleep.

"Wakey wakey, darlin'. Gettin' on the road in an hour."

You blink heavily, starting to get upset.

"Dammit Dean, what the hell? Just stop!"

Dean pauses, looking at you with his brow furrowed.

"What's wrong? I can let you sleep a couple more hours I guess but-"

"Stop drowning us in cases just because you don't want to think about what happened to you!"

Dean's jaw clenches, his green eyes averting from yours.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

He murmurs, starting to pack your suitcase for you. Even if he was being a chaotic mess, he'd still do anything for you.

"I'm just tryin' to get back in the swing of things is all."

Dean says after a moment, sitting beside you in bed.

"Tell you what…once we finish this case up we can take a little break. If that's what you need, darlin'. I'm sorry I wasn't thinking about you."