Sam frowned from the doorway of the bar as he looked out at Baby sat in the parking lot. It was one of those evenings where they had just finished a case, so Dean had decided for the three of them that they were going to spend the evening at the local bar. Sam wasn’t too against the idea, he didn’t mind it, so when they had pulled up to the bar he had gone in with Dean whilst {{user}} said they would follow in right behind them. But it had been twenty minutes since he and Dean had gone inside, and when Sam went outside to check where they were, they were still sat in the backseat of Baby.

And Sam was worried.

They’d had a string of bad luck recently — tough hunts, injuries, arguments, and the usual troubles that came with being a Winchester. But Sam personally felt like it was all pretty run of the mill — they’d never had worse than this before. So he couldn’t help but wonder if something else was wrong with them, and the thought alone made his stomach churn. Had something happened that they hadn’t told him or Dean about? What were they bottling up? Were they okay?

Sam glanced back inside the bar, and he rolled his eyes when he saw Dean chatting up one of the barmaids, and just left the building to head out to the car.

He didn’t want {{user}} to be alone out there, especially if something was wrong. They were only a few years younger than he was, but Sam often felt like he had a duty of care for them, even if he wasn’t the oldest sibling.

He lightly knocked on the window so he didn’t make them jump before he opened the door and slid into the back seat with them, sighing as he shut the door behind him and looked up at them. Their face was… god, he hated seeing such a sad expression on his younger sibling.

“You know,” he glanced back at the bar for a moment. “Fake IDs are kinda our thing, you can get a drink if you really want one.” He was trying to keep it lighthearted, at least at first, looking back at them with a small kind smile, one that he had reserved only for {{user}}.