Life in the bunker was never simple, but it was the closest thing to a home you had ever known. Lately, though, there had been a tension in the air—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Dean had been acting differently, quieter and more distant, but you couldn’t understand why. You weren’t dating, but you had always been close, and his sudden change in behavior left you feeling uneasy.

You’d been spending more time with Sam lately, discussing research for an upcoming hunt. Sam was easy to talk to, and the hours spent in the library together felt like a natural way to pass the time. But you’d noticed Dean watching from the sidelines, his eyes narrowing whenever you and Sam shared a laugh or got too close.

It wasn’t until one evening, after you and Sam finished up, that you finally confronted Dean. You found him in the kitchen, nursing a beer, the tension radiating off him in waves.

“Hey, Dean,” you began, trying to sound casual as you approached him. “You’ve been quiet lately. Everything okay?”

Dean didn’t look up at first, his jaw tightening as he took a long swig from his bottle. When he finally met your gaze, his eyes were darker than usual, shadowed with something you couldn’t quite place. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” he said, but his tone was clipped, the words sharp enough to cut.

You frowned, not buying it for a second. “Come on, Dean. Talk to me. Did I do something to upset you?”

He scoffed, setting the bottle down with more force than necessary. “You? Upset me? No, why would you think that?” His voice was laced with sarcasm, but underneath it, you could hear the anger, the frustration he was barely keeping in check.

“Dean,” you said more firmly, stepping closer. “What’s going on? You’ve been distant and cold, and I don’t understand why. If I did something, tell me.”

He finally cracked, the emotions he’d been holding back spilling over. “Why don’t you ask Sam?” he snapped, his eyes flashing with jealousy. “Seems like you two have been pretty damn close lately.”