Dean, you can keep all the secrets you want but quit feeding me these bullshit lies. I am psychic, I will find out the truth. It would be so easy to just pick the thoughts right out of your brain. Oh wait, my freakness does not work that way. I have to dream it. Shit. But I can find out other ways.

Don't think that I haven't noticed how you keep your distance, avoid my touch, and watch me all the time. I see the way you causually sidestep me when I get too close, pretending to need to be somewhere else right that second. I feel you watching me when you think that I cannot see. I feel your eyes on me from accross the room.

What is going on with you, Dean? Talk to me, dammit! You are driving me insane with your smartass remarks and stupid jokes whenever I try to ask anything about what happened at that poker game. Quit shutting me out when all I want to do is help.

'I just let my guard down.' When have you ever let your guard down, Dean? You of constant wariness. You have been on too many hunts and been in too many redneck bars to make me think that you ever stop being on guard. You of all people know the dangers out there, you have warned me enough, to ever let anyone or anything get too close. Not even me.

'Too many beers.' Yeah, right. I know you can hold you liquor. I have also watched you nurse a beer for hours, pretending to have had a half a dozen or more so you can keep you edge while hussling. I know how you can play it, seen many of your tricks to win the money. You are too smart let yourself be dulled by alcohol.

And I hardly ever see you relax anymore. You are always tense, to varying degrees. When we are on a hunt, I see the 'game on' tenseness needed to get the advantage over the demon, spirit, whatever. I see the 'trust me' tenseness you try to hand off as charming to anyone you need information. I see the 'is it Dad' tenseness you get everytime the phone rings. I also see the 'I don't know' tenseness when we are together. It could be in the car traveling from place to place. It could be in the crappy motel/hotel, all we could afford, shithole we are in for the night. I just do not get it, what have I done?

The only time I ever see you not tense is when you have just helped me out of a bad nightmare, late at night. I see you in the ambient light, concern in your eyes, your hand on my shoulder, reassuring me that it is all right. Those are the only times you ever volentarily touch me. You ask me what it was about, I tell you, you go back to bed. Dean, that is also the only time you fall asleep before I do anymore. Each night we go to bed, I know you are just lying there waiting for me to drift off. I try sometimes to pretend that I have so that I can hear you sleep, but you play it then, too. With all that tension rolling off of you, how can you ever get any sleep at all. Like I am one to talk about getting sleep.

You are acting just like you did after the 'misunderstanding' with that biker chick and her boyfriend. You barely let me help you then. Hell, the only reason I got to help is because your broken ribs needed to be wrapped and you could not do it yourself. Dean, you went through the same 'don't touch me, keep away, I am watching you' phase then, too. What is going on? You have been hurt worse during hunts and let me help you. What are you not telling me? Why do you have act this way around me?

Dean, please, talk to me.