Dean's mind was getting to him again. So, to rid those thoughts and suffer for them, he made his way to the garage and abused his fists at a punching-bag that hung there. Everybody knew better than to stop Dean when he was like this, but that was untrue.

As the skin on Dean's knuckles pierced, and a burning sensation spread through his aching clenched hands, he didn't stop. The sound of heavy hits filled the silence of the garage. Until, well, the door opened.

Dean didn't notice you until you made a slight sound, only then did he stop his punch midway, but immediately went at it again. "What?" He asked, not turning to look at you. "You should leave. There's nothing for you here." Dean's punches had gotten heavier as he desperately tried to make the thoughts of wanting you close to him disappear.