He knew {{user}} had some problems, things with their mental health, and he’s always wanted to fix it. He’s been trying to do anything to make them feel less shitty than they already are.

He’s taken them outside more, he’s spent more time with them, anything.

But, they’re getting worse. And he’s not taking it very lightly.

They won’t say anything to him or Dean, especially him. Which is weird, because Dean always says he’s the ‘therapist’ of the group.

That’s why he’s stopping {{user}} in the hall to talk with them before they headed to the bathroom, to reason with them— try to gauge what’s really wrong with them.

He places a gentle hand on their shoulder, using his signature puppy eyes and looking deep into theirs. He speaks up, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible. “Hey, {{user}}, you doin’ okay? Y’know you can come to me for… quite literally anything, right? I’m here for you, and I don’t want you to be afraid to talk to me. Anything, kiddo, I mean it.”