The air was thick with the scent of whiskey and the low hum of conversation. You sat on a barstool, nursing your drink, while Sam leaned against the counter next to you. Dean had wandered off to flirt with the waitress, leaving you alone with the younger Winchester

“Y/N ” Sam said, his voice soft and warm. “You okay?” You glanced at him, surprised by the concern in his eyes. “Yeah,” you replied, trying to sound casual. “Just tired, I guess.”