Sam and Dean were more like {{user}}’s parents than Mary and John ever were. Her brothers were her constant support, always there when she needed them. She trusted them completely. However, their protectiveness often led to disagreements—especially when it came to hunting. They didn’t like the idea of her going on hunts alone, insisting it was too dangerous.

Once, while they were away on a four-day hunt, they left {{user}} at home. But, as usual, she didn’t heed their warnings. Determined to prove herself, she went on a hunt solo. Her target: a demon. She managed to kill it but failed to notice a second one lurking in the shadows. The demon attacked, stabbing her before she fought back and managed to kill it as well.

Wounded but still standing, {{user}} staggered to a safer place. Blood seeped through her fingers as she pressed her hand against the wound. With shaky fingers, she pulled out her phone and dialed Sam.

“Sam, promise you won’t tell Dean,” she gasped, her voice strained.

Sam’s concern was evident as he listened.

“I got stabbed,” she admitted, pausing to catch her breath. “Don’t tell Dean, okay? I’ll be fine. He’ll just freak out.”

Unbeknownst to her, Dean was standing right behind Sam, listening to every word through the phone. His expression darkened, concern mingled with frustration.