You turn around to see Dean standing about 20 feet behind you.

"Dean, before you say anything-" Sam started.

"I always teased, but never thought you two would actually end up together." He smirked, but in his eyes you can see something. Almost a disappointment.

You turn around to look at him, Sam directly behind you. "It's not gonna make anything weird, is it?" You ask.

"Just no having sex where I can see and no chick flick moments." Dean waves it off as he goes to the refrigerator.

"Dude." Sam grumbles, his bitch face strong as you laugh.

Sam throws his hands up in surrender and goes to sit down at the table.

"Dean, no matter how long you stare at the fridge, food isn't going to magically appear." You chuckle, setting your hand on his to get his attention.

Dean cleared his throat as he closed the door, avoiding eye contact "Right." He choked out as he left the room.

"That was weird..." You comment, looking to Sam who simply shrugs.

"I'm sure things won't be too different, we've been pretty close for the last couple years."

"True." You sigh, opening the fridge "Are you hungry? I can make lunch."

"Sure." Sam smiles at your back, watching as you begin to grab ingredients.

"Think Dean's hungry?" You ask, peaking from around the door.

Sam simply shrugs as you close said door, setting the food on the table.

"I'm gonna go find him. See what's up."

Sam nodded, grabbing the food and taking it over to the stove to start working on it.

You walk around the bunker, not finding him anywhere. The last place to look is the firing range down in the basement. You go down the steps, careful not to trip on your sore ankle.

As you approach, you hear shots going off, a full clip unloading in quick procession.

When you enter the room, you see Dean, his pistol in his hands, and cartridges scattered around him. A couple dozen clips lay next to him, 3/4 of them already empty.

Dean doesn't see you come in, and continues firing. You wait for him to finish his latest clip before taking.

"Good shot." You comment on the giant whole he has busted through the paper target, there's practically nothing left of it.

Dean grunts in conformation as he loads in another clip, unloading it into the paper, the target falling off of the clip it was held with and onto the floor.

"Sam and I are making lunch, we were wondering if you wanted anything." You ask, carefully stepping closer. He seemed a little too high strung to get too close to.

"No." He grumbled,pulling what was left of the target in so he could replace it.

"Dean? Are you okay?" You ask, setting your hand on his forearm.

His eyes catch yours, a mixture of sadness and anger radiating within them.

Without a second thought, nor time for you to react, he grabs your hand and pulls you close, kissing you.

You try to push him away, but his grip on you is strong.

He only stops after he hears someone behind you clear his throat.