Dean lingered outside the old house for a few moments, scratching his head. The night was silent, crickets chirping in the distance of the junkyard. He was hesitant to even make his presence known here. He and {{user}} were dating, and they honestly made Dean so damn happy. He loved them. Really did, it wasn't like any bullshit he's had with another partner. The two had fought from time to time, which was what happened now. He could just turn and walk away right now. Drive off in the Impala—

Damn it. He couldn’t.

Dean and {{user}} hadn't spoken for the rest of the day, and Dean had to basically be ordered by Sam to even go to their place. It’s not that he didn’t care— He just didn’t know how too. God, he wasn't good at apologizing. Ignoring-- Now that's what he was good at. Dean's jaw clenched, his fist hitting the door a few times. His free hand scratched the back of his head while he waited.

When Bobby opened the door, Dean silently cursed. Right-- {{user}} was Bobby's kid. Bobby cared a lot about them, and Dean already knew he was in trouble by the glare in the old man's eyes.

"{{user}} home?" Dean awkwardly asked, a small chuckle escaping despite knowing damn well a lecture was about to come. Honestly, he deserved it and knew he did. Dean hardly ever thought before he acted. It was a destructive habit, yet he never hated it more before now.

With a shove backwards, Bobby left the warmth of his home and stepped outside with Dean. The old man didn’t hesitate to start tearing Dean a new one.