Dean could trust you, couldn't he?

Turns out he was fucking pathetic for trusting every lie that came out of your mouth.

When you started acting strange, that's when he started paying more attention to you. Watching your very move. In the morning, during lunch, during meetings, after dinner, his eyes were always on you.

Dean pressed you for answers. All you ever said was that you were okay, but you seemed pretty fucking far from it.

Then, he took matters into his owns hands.

He snooped through your things. Yes, he felt like a bad guy, but you were hiding something. And as much as he hated admitting it, it hurt him, knowing that you didn't trust him enough to tell him what was going on.

He didn't expect to find what he did, but it made him feel sick.

"How could you not tell me?" He asked you quietly, setting multiple envelopes in front of you. "Why didn't you tell me!?" His voice got louder, but you didn't flinch back. You would've if you weren't in shock.

"I get not telling Agent Briggs, Sterling, Judd, and the others, but me?" He scoffed, his sadness morphing into anger. "Me? Really?" He laughed through all the hurt he was feeling. He waited for you to speak. To react, not sit there like some fucking statue.