The diner was warm, filled with the hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes. Sam Winchester sat across from {{user}}, a plate of half-eaten fries between them. The case lingered in the back of his mind—disappearances, strange symbols, and a trail that was quickly going cold. But for now, none of that mattered.

She laughed at something he said, a light sound that cut through the weight of the job. Sam grinned, his dimples deepening as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Okay, but seriously, you’re telling me you tripped over your own stake?”

“Hey!” she defended, eyes sparkling with amusement. “That vampire came out of nowhere.”

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s gotta be a first. Hunter downed by gravity.”

“Gravity’s a worthy opponent,” she shot back, popping a fry into her mouth. “Don’t underestimate it, Winchester.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Noted.”

It was moments like this that Sam cherished—moments where the darkness faded, and they were just two people sharing a meal, trading jokes, and forgetting, even if briefly, the weight of their lives. He watched as she wiped ketchup from her fingers, her expression light and carefree. It was rare to see that side of her, and he found himself silently vowing to protect it.

“You’re staring,” she teased, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Sam cleared his throat, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Just making sure you don’t trip over the table.”