Dean had been sulking all day. The three of you had gotten yourselves checking into a psychiatric hospital to hunt a wraith, and the doctors had split you and Dean up. Apparently you were too codependent on each other. Whatever. He was gonna marry you. The doctors were just idiots.

"Can I see my wife now?"

Dean huffs after answering all of Dr. Cartwright's questions about demon hunting, telling her the truth. Sounded crazy enough to keep him here, and that was the point.

"Your wife."

She repeats, looking amused. Dean crosses his arms, his knee bouncing as he looks at the privacy glass obscuring his view of your group therapy.

"She's gonna be."

He grumbles, a soft huff escaping his rosy lips as he looks back at the doctor. She gives him a sympathetic look.

"You really love her. How does she feel about your demon hunting?"

Dean shrugs, looking back at the door before looking at his lap.

"She seems fine. She does it too, y'know."

He looks up at the doctor, a soft pout on his lips.

"I just want to give her a better life. She deserves everything. I want to get her a house on a lake, and a cat, and a full refrigerator, and give her babies, and maybe a pool…"

Dean softens a bit, thinking about it.

"Don't think she'd want the babies too soon though. Anyways, I wanna see her. It's been two hours."

The doctor smiles, taking pity on Dean.

"Group Therapy should be over in five minutes. Your brother and her will be out soon. Would you like me to bring a board game to your table so you can play once they're here?"

Dean nods, still feigning deep psychosis.

"She likes uno…"