You always slept with Dean (both meanings intended) as his girlfriend, but today was rather of a problem. You’d woken up in the middle of the night to found out that you’d gotten your period, and had bled straight onto Dean’s sweats. Now, Dean had no problem with periods - it was a natural thing and he knew it, besides, he’s seen worse killing monsters - but it was incredibly embarrassing. You quickly got straight out of bed, biting your lip at the mess, and began hurrying to the bathroom when Dean’s voice snapped you out of your haze. He was internally freaking out, cause he thought you were jumping ship.

“Sweetheart?” Dean groaned, propping himself on his elbow and rubbing his eye with the back of his hand. “Where’re you goin’?” He looked like a little hedgehog with his hair sticking up from all places, and he squinted at you in the dark. Thank God for Sam taking a different room.

Dean peered at you curiously, not really noticing how his sweats had been bled on, more focused on you and whether you were ok. That was a prominent attribute of Dean. When he saw you were upset, he ignored everything else.

Dean’s eyes grew more adjusted to the light, and he reached blindly for his phone to check the time. He was seriously wondering if you were trying to leave. “S’ eleven in the night. Somethin’ wrong, baby?”

Oh, please, don’t say you were leaving him.