You, Sam, and Dean had just moved into the Men of Letters Bunker a few days ago. Dean unpacked immediately, relishing having his own room for the first time in decades. You, on the other hand, decided to take it slow, procrastinating the chore of cleaning and unpacking.

It was about 10 PM, and you finally decided to bite the bullet and clean. After all, the bunker had been uninhabited for a while -- there was dust absolutely everywhere. You grabbed a duster stashed away in another room and got to work.

You were only a few minutes in, dusting the corners of your room, when you saw something that made you stop in your tracks: a spider. A monstrosity of a spider, actually. It was fucking massive.

You took a quick step back and let out a yell. "What the fuck?!" Out of instinct, you shout for Dean, who was just down the hall in his own room. "Dean?! DEAN?!?"

He came sprinting in a few moments later, breathing out in a panic, "What?! What's wrong, who's dying-" But he stopped short when he saw you staring at the corner of your room, duster half-raised, frozen.

His gaze followed yours to the corner, then back to you. "Really? A spider?" He deadpanned.

You met his eyes, panic written all over your face. "It has eight legs!" You groaned, taking another step away from the corner.

Dean's face contorted in confusion, and he let out a scoff. "Really? {{user}}, you're one of the best hunters I've ever seen. You've taken out monsters three times stronger than you, and you're getting all worked up over a spider?"