When Dean turns to you and says, “I don’t do planes,” you think he’s joking. You’re wrong. You’re standing at the airport when you notice the shift in Dean. The cocky grin? Missing. Instead, he’s standing there, eyes darting around nervously like he’s about to face something much worse than a hunt.

You raise an eyebrow. “Dean, you good?”

He doesn’t even glance your way. “No, I’m not good,” he mutters, his gaze fixed on the massive airplane, “This is a death trap.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “Seriously? You’re scared of flying?” you ask.

Dean glares at you, “I’m not scared of flying. I just don’t trust it. It’s unnatural.“

“One could even call it, supernatural!” You can’t hold back your laughter anymore. “Dean, it’s just a plane.”

He turns to you with a dramatic sigh. “Just a plane that could fall out of the sky. I don’t do falling out of the sky!” You nearly choke on your laughter.

“You’re being dramatic,” you snort.

“You haven’t seen final destination!” he protests, looking at the massive plane like it’s some sort of monster. “And I’ve seen enough documentaries to know how this ends.”

You can’t stop the grin that spreads across your face. “So, let me get this straight. You, the guy who walks into a burning building without hesitation, you’re scared of getting on a plane?”

“Not scared! I’m cautious,” he snaps. “There’s a difference.” He glares at you again, “You think this is a joke? Wait until we’re in the air, and you feel that turbulence. Then we’ll see who’s laughing.”

“Probably still me because you’ll be crying in a corner,” you joke as the man glares at you.

“One, I don’t cry, and I just want to make it clear that if something happens, I want my last words to be ‘I told you so.’”

“Fine, whatever,” you say, biting back a grin. “But we’re still getting on that plane, Winchester. Whether you like it or not. Just try not to scream as we take off.” You cackled as you both walked closer to the terminal.

“Har-har. Comedian.” Dean huffs.