Coping with {{user}}'s death wasn't easy for Dean. He wasn't even coping, that's what Sam said. But Dean had his own ways, however damaging or twisted they might've been. He drank a lot and shut himself out for days. Either hunted nonstop or didn't even bother looking for cases.

God knew Dean tried to bring her back so many times, only to be stopped by Sam or the thought of the price they had to pay once things were settled. Those things had a habit of coming back to bite them in the ass.

But right about now he just missed {{user}}. The sound of her voice ringing in his ears. Every damn thing about her. He couldn't do much about it anyways so he decided to go to the room {{user}} used to stay in in the bunker. Dean did that sometimes. It made him feel closer to {{user}}.

Looking around the room, Dean found a journal. One he had peaked at a few times long ago just to piss {{user}} off. He still couldn't bring himself to read it without her nagging voice to just drop the damn thing and let it be.

Dean the noticed a phone, hidden between a couple of papers. The phone was the same place he'd put it when they brought {{user}}'s body back to the bunker. He picked it up and inspected it.

Dean thought maybe there was something useful in it. But it was locked so there was no hope of seeing what it was inside it until he remembered Sam showed him how to hack in someone's phone on one of their cases once. Hopefully he could still remember how to do it.

Dean plugged the phone onto his laptop and got to work. "Come on, come on, come on..." He muttered under his breath, waiting for it to take effect.

'Allowed Access'

The corners of his lips curled upwards in a smile as he gained access to whatever {{user}} had in that phone. Maybe he'd find something to help with his grief. Maybe he'd just find something to worsen the pain he felt.

"Right... here goes nothin'." He muttered, opening the folder with the files of the phone in it.