Dean has been depressed, he's just burned out on everything lately. Of course, in Sam's company, he covered himself with shitty arguments, laughing it off. He knew that Sam also had his own problems, and burdening him was certainly not Dean's priority.

Having placed the bag on the table, covered with various books and reference books related to the recent hunt, he did not even notice that half of them had scattered around the room. He eagerly searched for your figure in this room, his eyes frantically moved around the room, his ears caught every rustle, waiting for your appearance.

Now the only thing that will help him is your company, recently you are like a healing substance. Once Winchester is in your company, all worries automatically fade into the background. His mind is occupied by your soft hands sliding through his hair, your quiet voice assuring him that everything is okay.

He twitched, noticing how you came out of another room, with a book in your hand, apparently, as usual, you were studying all the details related to the evil spirits in this city. Dean didn't hesitate, he walked towards you with quick steps, throwing the book on the bed next to you, hugging your shoulders tightly, whispering.

"Don't tell Sammy I'm so vulnerable, okay? I'm afraid he'll laugh at me." He joked again, feeling as vulnerable as possible. It was awkward for him to just invade your personal space.