Another nameless town in the middle of nowhere. Another sleepy breakfast joint. Another crowd of faces he’d forget before the day was out.

He and Sam slid into a booth in the far corner. Almost instantly, Sam set up his laptop, eyes narrowing, already lost in whatever rabbit hole he was chasing.

"Hey there, what can I get you?"

The voice—soft, lilting, warm—made him glance up. And just like that, the smile appeared. That easy, practiced grin he wore like armor. He leaned back in his seat, gaze lifting. And then he stopped cold.

It had been ten years. High school. Their father gone again on another hunt, leaving Dean in charge, dropping them into yet another school for just a handful of weeks. But that was all it had taken—for Dean to fall, hard and fast, for the first time.

And now she stood there. Same wide, luminous eyes. A black apron cinched around her hips as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. That smile—soft, familiar—blooming on her lips. And in an instant, he was seventeen again.