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As little as Dean spoke, it was easy to know when something was wrong.
For example, when he came back from checking the church for clues and pulled Y/N into a rough kiss before even a hello, it was an obvious sign. It was a long moment before he pulled away, burying his head into the crook of her neck and crushing her to his chest.
“Wow, missed you too, honey,” she squeaked from his hold. Her arms finally circled around him, hands resting on his shoulder blades.
Sam came in to see his brother home and, at the sight, sent her a pitying look to her over Dean’s shoulder. His large hands clapped his brother on the back as he walked back to where he had been watching Rowena, leaving them alone.
Y/N's hands rubbed circles into his back, trying to be a calming force.
Dean finally pulled away, a little shakier than he’d ever admit to. His hands rested now on her shoulders, holding her at arm’s length. Before he completely shut down, her fingers fell to his belt and pulled him back to her in a hug. “No, nope, none of that shit, c’mere.”
He chuckled, letting her hold him.
“Now, you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”
“‘M fine.”
She looked up at him with a bitchface that would make Sam proud.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, refusing to make eye contact with her.
“Okay, c’mon,” she pulled away from his hold and took his hand in hers. She immediately began leading him back towards their room.
“Wait, what about—”
“Nope,” she shook her head. “We’re having a chick flick moment and you’re gonna deal with it.” She twined her fingers together with his before opening the door to their bedroom.
Once inside, she maneuvered him towards the bed, sitting down beside him once he was settled.
Dean’s eyes were still glued to the floor. She reached up and trailed her fingers through his hair, coming down to cup his cheek.
He let his head press into her palm, letting her hold him up a bit. Then it all spilled out. He told her of how he had run into Amara, how the knife had shattered in his hands, and, worst of all, the part that really ate at him, the kiss he had shared with God’s sister.
Y/N sat and listened, finding a way to touch him, to offer him any sort of comfort she could. When he told her of the kiss, he felt her stiffen, her hold on his hand tightening enough to cause his fingers to go numb.
His voice trailed off after that bit of information came out. Without him even speaking, she could hear his insecurities. He had never been good with words, and they tumbled out awkwardly as he tried to explain himself. “I promise, I don’t feel anything for her, it’s just… because of the Mark there’s this weird connection and I never—”
She leaned up, kissing him lightly. He grabbed her by the arms, holding her close and in place, like this was his last time kissing her.
Y/N pulled back, eyes fluttering open like a cliche romance movie. Dean’s eyes were still closed, and she rolled her own. “Dean, I’m not mad.”
His eyes snapped open, his confusion evident. “What?”
“Okay,” she confessed. “I’m a little upset, but I know you. You’ve had every chance on the fucking planet to leave me and you never have. And, if you promise me that it’s not… anything else—” she took a deep breath.
“It’s not,” he answered, his voice barely audible.
She smiled awkwardly. “Look, she’s God’s fucking sister, there’s some weird ass magic shit going on. Promise me you’ll fight it, and you can sleep in here tonight and not on the couch.”
He nodded furiously, a promise already escaping his lips.
She silenced him with another sweet kiss. When she pulled away and smiled. “Okay, chick flick moment done, you’re free to go.”
Y/N pushed herself up off the bed, and then went right back down. Dean’s arms had shot out and around her, pulling her back down, and rolled over on top of her. A wolfish grin came over his features and he said, “I haven’t even finished apologizing yet!”
She rolled her eyes. “What about Sam and Rowena?”
He leaned down, peppering kisses along her neck. “They’ve had you all day—it’s my turn.”