You don't know how to respond or if you even want to. Dean's face is filled with concern, and his mind is filled with genuine love for you. Your fingers grip the curtain until your knuckles turn white while you try to think of something to say.

"Yeah," your lips quiver as you tell the truth.

He scoffs and wipes his scruff in thought. "I think I know why, but please, enlighten me."

You catch his mood change. "It's nothing, Dean." You let the curtain fall so you can't see his face.

He leaves the bathroom so that you can attempt to wash up and relax, but the latter doesn't happen. The floor becomes soaked as you get out and stare at your body in the slightly foggy mirror. Immediately, you feel disgusted. The woman staring back at you isn't who you want to be. The eyes are red and puffy, the sign of someone weak. The mouth almost a snarl, a sign of hatred. The skin is imperfected with freckles, scars, and an anti-possession tattoo on your ribcage. The mirror begins to crack from the intensity of your stare, but you don't care. The hair is a mess from the wind of the drive and then putting it in water without brushing it. You grab a towel and wrap it around you, trying to ignore your pain.

You walk into the hotel room and are hit with a wave of cold AC air. Dean is reading something on his laptop. His eyes glance up at you and he watches you intently as you walk to the bed to grab your bag. You catch a piece of his thoughts and freeze.

"She's perfect," he tells himself.

You turn your attention to him and drop the bag back on the bed. He sits up straight and crosses his arms, still watching you. He knows you've read his mind. Nervously, you pull the towel closer to your body, afraid of exposing yourself to him and ruining his thoughts about you. You grab the bag and dart back into the bathroom. You open it and find shorts and a tee shirt to wear to bed. And that's the plan. You will walk out, put your bag down, climb into bed, and sleep. No talking to Dean. Nothing. Simple. You change and take a deep breath before opening the door.

You walk into Dean who was waiting outside the door. "Oh, sorry."

His hands gently touch your arms making you accidentally drop the bag on your foot. Smooth. Real smooth. You go to pick it up, but Dean bear hugs you. His arms wrap around your upper body leaving your arms dangling below his. His scruffles brush your cheek as his face touches yours. You bury your face into his shoulder and his lips touch your neck and shoulder. You don't understand his sudden affection, but you aren't about to deny him. You've missed this.

"I'm sorry," he whispers gruffly.

"For what?" you ask into his ear.

"Being a dick," he is trying to be funny, but is also serious.

You finally escape his hug and sit on your bed. He sits next to you and looks at the floor. He hunches over with is arms resting on his legs. You scoot to sit beside him with your legs hanging off. You don't know what to do. Should you grab his hand? Rub his thigh? Oh god, no. That would lead down another path that is probably too rocky right now. You look at him and see that he's been watching you from the corner of his eye.

"You weren't being a complete dick," you offer.

He laughs. "I really was though," he sighs. "It's just…how was I supposed to react to you coming back?"

"By hugging me…maybe a kiss…" you shrug like it's not bothering you that he hasn't tried to kiss you.

He smiles over at you. "You wanted me to kiss you. Interesting."

You punch his arm lightly. "Shut up, Dean. That's not what I said."

He sits up straight and kisses your cheek lightly. "I need to sleep."

"Okay," you say blushing.

Dean gets up and gets into his bed. He waits until you are under the covers on your own bed before turning the lamp off between the both of you. The AC kicks on and makes you jump. Dean chuckles, which means he saw you jump. You smile to yourself knowing that he is still fixated on you even in the dark. You turn your body towards his bed and see the reflection of the dim laptop light on his eyes as he watches you.

"Good night, Dean," you whisper.

"You wanted me to kiss you," he responds quietly.

You lick your lips. "I still do."

Suddenly, Dean is throwing the covers off himself and he stands up. He walks to your bed and you observe his every movement. His knee is on the bed first, then his hands as he crawls into your bed. You open up the blankets so that he can cuddle up next to you. But he is not having any of that. He places his hands on either side of your head and straddles your body. His body heat makes goosebumps appear on your arms and legs. You feel his breath on your face and you close your eyes waiting to feel his lips. Your hands slide up his arms and touch his chest. You want to pull his shirt off and feel his skin under your hands. Dean pauses, worried about something. You open your eyes and can see the uncertainty in his eyes.

"What?" you whisper.

"I've just missed you so much," his voice is low, and struggling.

"Dean?" you realize he is on the verge of tears. "Lay down with me."

His body collapses next to you and he lets out a long deep sigh. His emotions are stable, but twinging with doubt. You move to cuddle with him and lay your head on his chest. His heart is racing, but so is yours.

"What's wrong?" You rub his stomach.

"I...it's nothing, Kate."

"Look, I can read your mind, or you can just tell me."

He laughs. "It's stupid."

"Stupid? That doesn't sound like you," the sarcasm is flooding your voice.

His arms wrap around you. "I'm afraid I'm going to lose you again."

You kiss his jawline and look into his eyes. "You'll never lose me, Dean."

"In eight years, I might," he says referring to your deal with Meg. "Or when your powers become to unstable or whatever. Or when you decide to be with Sam because I'm a dick."

"Dean," you feel he's joking about the last part, but you don't have the heart to be honest with him about that. "We can work around things, right? Just like we've always done," you press your cheek against his chest again and listen to him breathe.

"I'm just so tired, Kate," Dean says, his mind distant.

"Get some sleep," you say knowing that his tiredness isn't from lack of sleep. It's from everything else. "I'll be here when you wake up."

"I love you," he holds you tighter.

Automatically, you respond, "I love you too."