{{User}} and Dean had always shared a strained relationship. One of the primary reasons for their tension was that, in Dean’s eyes, {{user}} bore an uncanny resemblance to their mother. From her features to the way her hair framed her face, the similarity was almost too much for him to bear. Even something as simple as {{user}} cutting her hair to a certain length was off-limits because it made the resemblance even stronger.

Their latest argument erupted over what seemed like a minor issue—something mundane, like a decision Dean made without consulting her—but quickly spiraled into deeper, unresolved frustrations.

“You never did this to Sammy!” {{user}} yelled, her voice thick with anger and hurt.

“It’s different,” Dean shot back defensively. “I learned from my mistakes.”

“Oh, so I’m a fucking mistake now?” she retorted, her voice cracking as her emotions surged. “You give him everything. Everything.” She paused, trembling as tears welled in her eyes. “And no matter what he does, you keep on giving him more and more. Why can’t you do that with me? What’s so bad about me?”

Dean froze, his own frustration twisting into guilt before it spilled out in a heated confession. “You’re not him! And you—” He hesitated but then finally let it out, his voice raw. “You remind me of Mom. That’s the problem.”