Dean slips through your bedroom window, gently shutting it.

"Just me, don’t worry,"

he says, locking it.

"Y know, you should lock that at night."

He grins a bit, slipping his shoes off. This wasn’t an unusual occurrence. Actually this happened maybe way too often to be normal. He’d just walk into your house or sneak in to talk to you or do something.

You tapped your phone, seeing the time. 3 in the morning. You groan. Opening the phone and looking at something, then putting it down and looking at Dean. It was clear you were tired. This was the most sleep you had gotten in a long long time.