Oklahoma smelled like dust, rust, and regret. The kind of place where the wind didn’t just whistle — it howled like a warning. Dean Winchester knew better than to listen to omens, but this town? This one felt heavy.

The hunt had teeth — three bodies found drained and grinning. Sam sat across from him in a corner booth of the faded roadside cafeteria, flipping through lore on his phone while the overhead fan groaned like it was trying to die. But Dean... Dean was watching her.

She moved behind the counter with a quiet rhythm, tired eyes and calloused hands. She didn't smile much, didn’t talk unless someone needed something. But there was something in the way she carried the weight of her world — like she was daring it to try her again. And he got that. Too well.

His pie arrived cold. He didn’t mind. Her hand brushed his when she set it down, and something in him jolted like a misfired engine. Maybe it was the storm rolling in outside, pressing against the windows like it wanted in. Or maybe it was just her. Standing there like she belonged to a place even the sky was trying to outrun.

Dean knew this story. Knew the ending before the first word. He’d be gone by sunrise, chasing something dark down another backroad. She’d still be here, standing her ground in a town that didn’t know how to love back.

He looked up at her — not just a glance. Saw her.

And when she turned to leave, he said it. Low. Honest. Like a man speaking to the eye of a storm.

"If I was smarter, I’d get the hell outta here before the rain."