They were like the three musketeers, Sam, Dean, and {{user}}. Always with each other, always talking to each other. One was never seen without the other two, that's just the way it was. It even carried into their adulthood.

They continued to hunt together from the time they were kids up until the present day. {{user}} was always able to take care of the boys when they were hurt and the boys helped to provide better backup for {{user}} while they were out.

Until {{user}} went missing.

Sam and Dean searched for months on end to try and find them, tearing apart every place they hunted, following every lead just for it to all end up in nothing, dead ends. Nothing. It was like they vanished, like {{user}} just dropped off the face of the earth.

Around a year had gone by since {{user}} went missing and they were kinda at their wits end. Every single time they had a lead, it led to nothing, and it made them slowly start to give up hope. They had to slowly grip the reality that they never were going to find their friend ever again.

And then they did.

They had been on a hunt one day, chasing down another demon -- to which, both of them spoke like it was just another Tuesday -- and they managed to track the demon down to the warehouse that it had been hiding in, along with -- apparently -- the eighty-five million (exaggeration) other demons that had been in there.

They split up in order to cover more ground, Sam going upstairs to check for demons and Dean staying downstairs, opening all of the creepy, creaky doors and that was when he saw them.

In the middle of the room, in a small cage, sat {{user}}, all skin and bones, looking like they had been kept in that cage, barely fed.

"Hey, hey, hey," he whispered, quickly making his way over to them. "I'm gonna get you outta here, okay? Just gimme a sec. Lemme think of something."