Sixteen months, three weeks, four days and twelve hours. That’s how long Dean had been gone. Ever since he got out of the hunting life, he couldn’t help but get depressed. At an all time low. He had been a shell of a man that {{user}} had once known.

But when he tried on that military uniform for the first time after enlisting…she saw that spark and it was absolutely amazing. The light in his eyes that even when hunting, she had never seen before. And according to Sam, hadn’t been there since Dean had picked him up from Stanford those five years ago. Five whole years and something as simple as a military uniform and his name on a tag for the military enlistment gave him a light that had been burned out.

D. Winchester.

He called when he could, wrote letters every week, and texted any time he had service. He always let her know he was safe. That was her one condition for what he’d chosen to do. “Be a soldier, save the world, but let me know you’re safe.” And he kept true to that promise.

She was working at the store, checking out customers and ringing up their groceries for the hundredth Thursday in a row. It was Thursday but it damn sure felt like a Monday and she hated it. Sometimes she wondered if it was her own personal little Hellscape.

“Hi, how are you today.” She greeted half heartedly, not bothering to smile. She was just done with the day and had twenty minutes left on her shift.

“You know, you should smile more. I bet it’s a beautiful smile.”

She knew that voice. That tone. That sarcastic and slightly southern edge. Dean.