A case had cropped up when you were researching with Sam and Dean for a new one. You recognised it all, the signs, the method of killing, the place. Especially the place. The woods in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, where your father died. And it was a vengeful spirit. You acted like nothing was wrong, saved the page and had left without a word. That worried Dean, as you’d never been known to jump ship like that.

Your father was an incredibly well known hunter. Anyone who was mildly involved in hunting knew his name, as he was the best of his generation. And you knew the vengeful spirit you were about to hunt is him.

Dean had quickly tracked you down by making phone calls to Bobby, which worried him more because normally if you didn’t want to be found, you could cover your tracks up extremely well. Extremely. He parked at the motel you’d been staying at, getting out the car. “What’s up with you, sweetheart?” He muttered under his breath.

Talking to the desk clerk, he quickly scoped out your room because of the rock alias, hurrying to it and knocking on the door.

“C’mon, c’mon.” Dean bit his lip, wanting you to open it. To open it and explain what the hell’s going on with you. He folded his arms, glaring at the door like it’d done something to him. Which it had. It was separating you from him. But he was sincerely worried.