"Dean, you need to eat." Sam says from outside the door.
"I'm fine, Sammy." Dean says.
He's been in his room since you stormed out a few days ago. He hasn't eaten or drank anything save the whiskey already in there since you left.
"Dean, please."
"I'm fine. Please go away."
"She's coming back, Dean." He sighs.
"How the hell'd'you know?" Dean asks, staring at the framed picture of him and you that he kept on his desk.
"Because she called, dumbass. You'd know if you'd stop acting like a child." Sam said. There was silence for a bit. "Dean?"
"She called you?"
"She said she'd called you first. Open the damn door."
"Go away."
You return a few days later, your last kill still on your mind. "Hey, Sammy." You smile a bit as you come in the bunker.
"Y/N." Sam stands up from the table. "Hey. You okay?"
"Yep. Fine. Well, I survived. Hope you boys didn't have a bet against it."
"Nope. I'll make a bet with you now, though."
"Sure." You laugh, feeling better just being home.
"Get Dean out of his room and I'll do everything in my power to get him to let you hunt."
"You got it, dude." You give a thumbs up and head to Dean's bedroom. You knock on the door. "Hey, Dean. Open up?"
The door's opened in less than five seconds by a very discombobulated Dean. "Y/N." He slurs, unsteady.
"Hey, baby. Come on out."
"You're back."
"'Course I am. C'mere." You hold out your hand.
He takes it, stumbling into you. "I missed you."
"I missed you too."
He kisses you sloppily. "I love you."
"I love you too. Come on, let's go show Sammy you're okay and go to bed. Sound good?"
He nods, probably not even registering what you say.
He stumbles after you as you lead him to his brother. "I did it." You inform him.
"'Course you did." He cracks a grin. "All right. I've got you."
"We're going to bed now, aren't we, Dean?"
"Sure." Dean agrees.
You dump him on the couch. "Goodnight." You say.
"Goodnight." He gives you a sleepy smile before his eyes droop closed. "I love you." He mumbles as he falls asleep.