Dean smiled briefly at the absurdity of someone trying to get through to his dad, if he had his mind made up.  In times like that, Dean could sometimes say his opinion, but most everyone else was just a mental casualty of John Winchester’s temper and chip on his shoulder.  

He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw at the thought of Sam being in some upscale school on the West Coast.  He probably wasn’t even working cases.  Hell, he probably didn’t even have a gun with him.  Opening his eyes and looking at her, he quickly diverted his eyes to the bed, “I don’t know.  Sam’s really smart.  And if he finds out I’m spying on him, or anything…he’d freak out so bad.”

He looked back up at her and sighed, “But, eventually he’ll figure it out.  He was meant to be a hunter…it’s just…how it is.  As much as I would love to settle down, drink my whiskey by a fire place and go to bed with a beautiful woman in my bed every night…I already know that’s not how my story ends.”

He gave a sad smirk, and bit his lip.