He gasped at the scratches, brow furrowing. This wasn't right, this really wasn't right. This was way off.
"Max," He groaned, putting his hands on her shoulders, "Max, I can't." He murmured. Dean finally figured it out. This was probably one of those Genetically Modified things, something he had no idea how to weasel out of.
Jesus Sam, don't come in here and see us like this.