A cheap motel room, late at night. The hunt is over, bruises are forming, and tension is thick enough to choke on.

“Will you be okay?” Another hunter, who joined you and Dean to back you up asks you as he helps you sit down at the table.

“I’m okay.” You smile.

“You sure? I can patch you up real quick.” He brings his hand to your cheek and gently caresses your skin with his thumb.

“Jesus, she’s fine. Let a girl breathe.” Dean huffs, arms crossed while he leans against the old motel wall.

You shot Dean a glare to make him shut up but before you can open your mouth, the hunter butts in. “Okay.. take care.” He mumbles with a smile, voice low and soft as he pats your shoulder. Then he grabs his bag and walks out, leaving you two alone in the middle of the hard tension.

“What a douche.” Dean scoffs, leaning off the wall and grabbing a beer from the fridge.

“I thought he was nice.” You say genially.

“Of course you did. You two were all over each other the whole hunt.” Dean scoffs, jealousy dripping off him like sweat.