“Why’d you do it?” You ask as you burst into the motel room, as deans eyes snap up to you from where he’s leaning on the kitchen counter.

“What?” He questions, raising his eyebrow.

“Why’d you sell your soul for me. Why the hell would you do that, Dean.” You ask with more of a harsh tone, tears threatening to fall.

“Don’t be stupid, {{user}}, who told you that?” Dean tries to lie as he stands up straight, his hands still pressed on the counter.