"Please,"

Dean begs, his hair and face drenched with the holy water Bobby had thrown onto him.

"Please, just let me see my girl."

Bobby stares at him, finally realising it really was Dean and not some supernatural creep trying to hurt you.

"She's upstairs but…"

Bobby sighs, patting Dean's shoulder.

"She'll probably react the same way I did if she's even awake."

Dean barely hears him, bounding up the stairs two steps at a time and bursting into the guest bedroom you always shared. He skids to a stop immediately, raising his hands in surrender as he sees you with a gun pointed directly at him.

"You might've fooled Bobby but you c..can't fool me."

You say shakily, unsure of yourself. Even if it wasn't Dean, it still looked like him and you didn't want to shoot.

"Aww, darlin'."

Dean's breath hitches, his green eyes taking in every inch of you, how tired you looked.

"Put it down, angel. It's okay. I swear it's me."

He approaches slowly, watching your bottom lip tremble. He knew you wouldn't shoot. His heart hurt though to see you so upset. He wished he never left. Slowly, his fingers guide the gun out of your hand and he glances at it quickly, giving you an amused smirk.

"Darlin', there's not even a bullet in here. You been huntin' without me?"

You stare at him warily, unsure still, your hands shaking. Bobby hangs in the doorway, his arms crossed.

"It's alright, kid. Already thoroughly checked him out myself."

Dean rolls his eyes, glancing across the room at him.

"You perv. I don't swing that way."

He says with a tiny grin, convincing you that it was really him.