Dean hates witches.

Dean doesn't hate you.

But you're a witch. That—that is a problem. His whole life he's been taught: supernatural bad. Anything that isn't human? Bad. But here he is, falling in love with a witch. You're innately not.. natural. You can control things that shouldn't be controlled and do spells and all that shit and Dean hates that he doesn't feel the urge to just, load up with a witch-killing bullet and get the job done. Quite the contrary, actually, he feels the urge to hold you close and make you feel so special and loved.

The unfortunate thing is: Dean is awful at handling his emotions. Especially when it comes to love. His first instinct is to push people away when they start to get close to him, he even does it with his own brother. So he didn't think twice about pushing you away. He wanted you to hate him. He didn't want you to like him, to love him, the way he loves you.

It's not like he can just ditch you either, you've been in the business with the two of them for so long it'd feel like cutting his arm off, or even getting rid of Baby. He shudders at the thought. So he's stuck. And his only way out is to push you away.

"I don't like them," he'd told Sam, and Sam full on laughed in his older brother's face. "You fucking idiot, yeah, you do," and Dean had shut up immediately, because yes, he does like you. So, so much. He's fallen for you, big time.

And he'd messed up big time too. Another instance of him pushing you away had left him saying some awful things to you, things he'd never dream of saying but came out anyway. Dean's not good at the whole feelings thing, he knows.

He feels like a fucking idiot stood in the doorway of your room in the motel, staring down at the ground for a moment before he looks at you again. "Are—" he starts, "Are we good?" He even winces when he says it, folding his arms over his chest and glancing away.

You didn't fucking know, he didn't fucking know. But he sure as hell knew he'd have to get his act right and stop being a dumbass.