{{user}} and Sam sat in the Impala, waiting for Dean to get his ass out of the diner.

“Hey, {{user}}?” Sam started.

You looked over at him, his brown hair hanging in front of his puppy eyes. The dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than usual. You couldn’t help but feel a small pain at his appearance.

Sam looked away, out the window. “…Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be normal? If we didn’t have to hunt. If we just got to live normal lives, with normal jobs…”

“…I don’t like thinking about it,” you said with a soft whisper. “I don’t like the what-ifs. Cuz I probably wouldn’t have met you or Dean.”

Sam looked at you. “I guess.”

“I guess I just always wanted to be normal. Hanging out with you… That’s the most normal I think I can get.” Sam frowned. “I just… I just want normal. And I know you can understand that. Dean, he wants this life. But I know you’d at least be able to hear me out. You’d be willing to listen.”

A moment of silence from you and Sam.

“…I just want normal, {{user}},” Sam whispered.