The hunt was over but tension was high. Sam had left a few weeks ago to be on his own, still recovering from the whole end of the world fiasco that he'd technically caused. Despite agreeing that his younger brother needed to go his own way, Dean was brooding and irritable. You'd been hunting the usual vengeful spirit, but Dean was pissed off you ganked the sob before he could. He'd snapped in the car, and had told you he wished you'd left with Sam. He hadn't said anything since, and had even gotten a motel room with two beds to separate you. After almost an entire evening of silence and failed attempts to break the tension, you give up, packing yout things back up.

"What're you doing?"

Dean finally murmurs, his green eyes unusually vulnerable as he watches you stuff your crumpled pants in your duffel he'd bought you a few years ago.

"Leaving."

You respond, standing up to get your things from the bathroom.

"Of course."

Dean huffs, falling into his usual routine of self loathing. You whirl around, fixing him with a sharp glare.

"Don't even start with your 'everyone always leaves' crap."

Dean glares right back at you, but you can see the hurt in his eyes.

"I'm not leaving you; we're both leaving. Right now."

You throw his boxers in his face and he winces, tossing them aside.

"What the hell d'you mean?"

Dean groans, sitting up tiredly.

"You and me. I'm driving your goddamn car and we're going to the beach or..or the mountains or..we're going on vacation!"

You snap, throwing his half-empty shampoo bottle at him. Dean's eyes widen, catching the shampoo and staring at you like you'd grown a second head.

"Vacation?"

"Yeah, you need to get the stick out of your ass."

Dean hesitates, looking down at his shampoo.

"She's not a goddamn car.."

He murmurs.