Dean Winchester was never meant to survive you.

The news of your death hit him like a bullet between the ribs — clean, cruel, and final. There was no body, no goodbye. Just a broken phone call, a shaky voice over the line whispering, “I’m sorry, Dean. They didn’t make it.”

He didn’t scream. Didn’t punch a wall. Didn’t yell at Sam. He just… shut down.

Stopped answering calls. Stopped hunting. Locked Baby away in a storage unit and tossed the keys. Sam tried to pull him back, tried to remind him that there were still monsters to fight, still people to save. But Dean had already lost the one soul he couldn’t live without — and he didn’t see the point in trying to keep breathing.

Word spreads — hunters talk. Eventually, Garth reaches Sam in a panic: “Man, you gotta find Dean. He’s in New Orleans, and he’s talking to some heavy, ancient witch types… the ones who make clean exits. If he’s really doing this—he won’t just be dead. He’ll be gone.”

But you’re not dead. You survived. Barely.

You’d been taken, held captive, and kept hidden by a shapeshifter who wanted to use you as bait. When you finally escaped, your only thought was Dean. And then you heard what he was planning…

You don’t wait. You run.

Now the city is alive around you — flickering street lamps, the scent of rain-soaked pavement, music in the distance, but it all blurs. Your heart pounds, feet aching, lungs burning as you shove through crowds in the Quarter. Somewhere above, in a shadowy cathedral, Dean is seconds away from making the biggest mistake of his life.

And you're going to stop him.