imagineteamfreewill: “Dude, she’s not gonna call you. You pissed her off big time,&rdquo
imagineteamfreewill: “Dude, she’s not gonna call you. You pissed her off big time,” Sam said, looking up at his brother from the laptop on the war room table. Dean only glanced at him, more preoccupied with the fact that you hadn’t called or texted in him in three days, nor had you answered any of his calls. He’d practically paced a rut in the war room floor and Dean’s concern for you hadn’t gone unnoticed by his brother.“What if something happened to her? I mean, she could be dead for all we know,” Dean replied. Sam sighed and shut his computer.“Dean, if she wanted to talk to you she’d call. She just needs some space.”“Space? It’s been three days, Sam!” Dean’s voice almost broke, but he stopped himself from going any further and ran a hand over his face to stop himself from tearing up. He loved you. He hadn’t gotten the chance to say those three magic words before an argument had blown up into a full-blown fight, causing you to storm out of the bunker with just a small bag of clothes and your phone, only enough to last you a week at most. He knew you’d turned your cell off; every one of his calls had gone straight to voicemail. He’d left you plenty of messages, but with the phone off he couldn’t track you to make sure you were okay. That was probably your intention, and both him and Sam knew that.“She’ll come back when she’s ready. She wouldn’t just leave you, you know that. Y/N loves you, I keep telling you that but you don’t listen to me. Clearly,” Sam added as Dean glanced at his phone again.“I’m gonna try calling her again, maybe she’ll pick up. Her phone might’ve just been dead or something,” he grumbled, dialing your number. “If she doesn’t answer soon I’m gonna call Garth and see if he’s heard anything from her. She has to be okay.”x x Poor Dean he’s so worried. -- source link