the past few weeks had been rough on dean, watching you laugh at sam’s jokes instead of his, taking a seat next to his brother instead of your usual one next to him.

things were different, and he didn't know why.

you used to be so close.

the pair of you had always shared a silent understanding, a bond. that's not to say you weren’t close with sam, you were, but you and dean were just connected on a more fundamental level, seeing eye-to-eye and sharing an ‘act now, assess later’ mindset. he had always been your confidant, your partner-in-crime, throughout your youth.

but as the years passed and you spent more time apart from the winchesters, you matured, learning to appreciate the lore and research side of hunting rather than just the adrenaline rush and post-celebratory boozefest.

so when dean called you up a few weeks ago for help on a case, you agreed—eager to see both winchesters again.

your year apart had made all the difference, and not just on you. dean had matured… slightly, and sam had grown up a lot. he had bloomed into a true hunter, so knowledgeable on the lore and so disciplined when it came to the hunt.

so instead of spending your time drinking yourself silly with dean like usual, you found yourself picking sam’s brain apart.

you didn’t notice dean’s snippiness when it came to you and sam at first, like when you’d tell him you were staying in to help research instead of going out for a drink. but dean’s coldness grew, and you eventually noticed the shift.

so as you finally pulled up into the janky motel parking lot, dean hopped out of the impala with a huff. “gonna book us a room. wait here,” he said curtly, his tone grouchy.

dean headed towards reception, and you turned to sam. “what’s up with him?”

sam shrugged. “he’s probably just tired. you know how he gets.”

but you weren’t so sure; it felt like more than just that. it was that strange feeling that had been gnawing at you for a while now, telling you that something wasn’t quite right between the pair of you anymore.