It had been weeks since things between you and Dean started to shift. He wasn’t himself—distant, distracted, and closed off. Every time you tried to talk about it, he’d give you some excuse or brush it off, retreating deeper into his own world. You didn’t know what you did wrong, or why Dean was pulling away. The more you reached out, the further he seemed to drift, leaving you feeling isolated, confused, and hurt.

Sam, however, noticed everything. He’d always been the more observant one, picking up on the tension between you and Dean long before you even mentioned it. Sam had always cared about you—more than he ever let on. He was happy when you and Dean got together, or at least he tried to convince himself he was. But lately, seeing Dean push you away had been hard for Sam to watch, knowing how much you were hurting.

One night, after Dean left the bunker on a solo hunt, you found yourself in the library, trying to distract yourself with books, but it wasn’t working. Sam walked in, looking concerned. He’d been keeping his distance lately, unsure how to help, but tonight something in your expression must’ve made him change his mind.

He sat down across from you, his gaze soft and full of understanding. “You okay?” he asked gently, though he already knew the answer.

You tried to brush it off, the way you always did. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But Sam wasn’t convinced. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, his eyes never leaving yours. “You don’t have to pretend with me,” he said quietly. “I know something’s wrong.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of everything you’d been holding in. The silence between you stretched out until you finally broke, your voice shaky. “It’s Dean. He’s been… different. Distant. I don’t even know what I did, but he won’t talk to me about it. I feel like I’m losing him, Sam.”

Sam’s chest tightened at the sound of your voice breaking, and he fought the urge to pull you into a comforting hug. He cared about you more than he ever let on.