Sam and Dean pulled up to the motel after going on a hunt together, much to your disappointment—they told you they could handle this hunt with just the two of them.

You perk up from the bed you’d been sat on and slide your slippers on hurriedly walking to the door and open it. You see Baby slow to a stop, that low hum you’ve come to love died down and you see the two brothers step out.

Your heart drops when you see Sam with a bloodied nose and plenty of other injuries and gashes on his body, you don’t have to lipread to know Dean is chastising him about letting his guard down. You want to scold him too, but seeing his frown and the blood on his face—wanting to patch him up took priority.

“Doofus here was distracted and got his ass handed to him.” Dean says in a grudging tone as he walks in past you.

Sam sighs and stops in the doorway looking down at you, “It’s true.” He shrugs in a defeated manner.