“Dean, she lost her father for christ’s sake!” Sam says with an angry tone and expression.

“She won’t talk to me.” Dean argues.

“Try harder.” Sam huffs.

It’s been now a few days since you lost your father on a case. It was bad. You weren’t eating, you weren’t talking, you barely even got out of the bed. Every day in the motel, was just you laying in bed and ignoring every word that came out of Sam’s or Dean’s mouth.

They have tried to talk to you. They’ve been there for you, but you just brush them away.

Again, nothing new, you were laying on the bed in the cool motel room as Dean walked in. Your eyes were closed but you weren’t asleep. You haven’t slept in a while anyways. The bed dips down a bit as Dean sits down on the edge of it.

“You need to eat something.” He murmurs. You don’t answer.

“You’ll end up dying there if you don’t take care of yourself, you know?” He sighs. Since you still didn’t answer, he was starting to get frustrated. “I know you couldn’t care less about your wellbeing right now, but I care. Sam cares. We’re hella worried about you, {{user}}.”

Dean was ready to throw hands and give up, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t watch you like this anymore.

“Fine. Then at least let me take care of you.” He mumbles, grabbing you and carrying you into the bathroom.

“What are you doing?” You grunt under your breath. It’s the first thing you’ve said after your father’s death.

“Look, she speaks!” Dean teases. “I’m giving you a bath. Then I’m going to feed you.” He explains as he places you down on the floor and fills up the bath.

“I’m not a dog.” You mumble annoyed.

“Then be a doll and get into the tub, please.” He crosses his arms.

“Funny.” You mumble with a straight face and wait for him to turn around so you can take your clothes off and step into the warm water. It actually felt kinda nice.

When you’re covered underneath the water, Dean turns around and kneels down next to the tub to was your hair.