It had been a few months since Sam’s return from the cage, and something was just… off about him, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. From telling you to lie about his presence to Dean (who, in his words was “happy with Lisa”), to working with his damn resurrected grandpa (which he seemed WAY too okay with), to even leaving you behind on some of these said hunts. This wasn’t the Sam you knew, and you needed to say something, and fast.

The two of you had just come back from a hunt that had been assigned to you by none other than Samuel, who you were growing disdainful towards, to say the least. But, once again, on this hunt, Sam had left you to the wolves, almost costing you your life. And afterwards, when Dean tried to call you, Sam told you (per usual) not to answer it. And you were fed up.

As Sam put the car in park and got out, you followed, slamming your door behind you as you called out to him:

“Sam!”

He slowly turned around to face you, the streetlights illuminating his face just enough that you could see the glint in his eye that was so un-Sam-like.

“Yes?” He replied, his voice short as he looked you up and down.

You took a deep breath, getting ready to say all that had been on your chest during these long months…