A long hunt. A long long hunt. Hell, a long long long week. You were exhausted, mentally and physically—and yet too stubborn to admit such blasphemy.

Maybe it was because Dean was the very same way, he would keel over and die before taking a goddamn break. He knew what was up. In a matter of seconds.

Did you really look that upset? No. He could just read you.

You had stumbled out from the hallway, leaving your designated room in the bunker still in a haze of slowly waking up, when Dean held out one arm in a ‘Come here’ gesture.

He saw you’re dazed look of confusion and made a face of impatience, he couldn’t have too much a soft spot for you now. He gently took you by the shoulder and just let you drop your head against his chest.

”I’m tired.” You finally utter the words

“I know.”