"Dude, you heard what they said about your hands... about everything," he protested, putting aside the bowl of soup and spoon as he shifted to face her, brows furrowed.

"You think I want the cops involved here any more than you do? But you need help, Dean... maybe more than you can get sitting on Bobby's couch watching bad TV and that seems to be what you're wanting to do here." It wasn't like Dean could stay on the road like this, not when she could barely lean back.