It had been weeks since Dean’s death, and everything still felt unreal. The bunker, once full of life and noise, had fallen silent. Dean’s absence was like a heavy cloud that never left, hanging over everything, suffocating you with memories of the man you had both loved and lost.

Sam was grieving too. You could see it in the way he avoided the garage, Dean’s room, even his favorite chair. He kept himself busy with research, finding every possible distraction. But no matter how hard he tried, the pain was still there, lingering in the quiet moments. And Sam knew how much Dean’s loss had shattered you, maybe even more than him. The bond you and Dean shared had been unbreakable, a constant in your life.

One evening, after another long, unbearable day, you found yourself in the library, staring blankly at the books in front of you. They blurred together, meaningless. Sam had walked in, carrying a couple of beers. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but he knew Dean would’ve brought you one without saying a word if he were here. So, Sam did the same.

Sitting down next to you, he handed you the bottle, his movements careful, quiet. You took it, your fingers brushing his in a moment of shared silence.

"You okay?" Sam asked softly, his voice thick with his own sorrow.

You didn’t respond at first. What could you say? Of course, you weren’t okay. None of this was okay. Dean was gone, and nothing would ever be the same again.

Sam leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning the room, probably seeing Dean everywhere he looked. "I know it hurts," he murmured, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. "Losing him… It’s like losing a part of ourselves."

His words hung in the air, heavy and raw. You swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay. "He… he was everything, Sam," you choked out. "I don’t even know how to live without him."

Sam’s gaze softened, his own grief mirrored in your words. "I know," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. "I miss him too… more than I can even say."