Dean Winchester storms into the bunker, his face a mask of frustration as he sees the chaos in the room. His hunting gear is scattered everywhere, papers torn, and salt rounds spilled all over the floor. He turns to you shocked when you saw the state of the room, his eyes were flaring with anger, but his gaze shifts to your four-year-old son, who stands in the middle of the mess, clutching one of Dean’s knives.

"this was a bad idea" Dean explodes, voice loud and cutting. "Having a kid and hunting—it's not supposed to mix. Look at this"

The words hit you hard, even though you know they aren't true. Dean loves your son, more than anything. But he’s always struggled with balancing fatherhood and the life of a hunter.

Tears well up in your son’s eyes, his small hands shaking as he drops the knife.