The past half day had been absolutely mental for you.

You'd been raised from the dead by an angel guy in a trench coat, quite literally dragged out of the ground and over to your half-brothers' father figure's house, and interrogated about literally everything relating to you being dead. A lot of sarcastic remarks were thrown about, mostly between you and Dean.

Sam, on the other hand, was the kind, gentle one. Reasoning with a calm voice that spoke of years worth of experience in persuading others. Talking you out of running off.

While everyone else was asleep, you decided to try and sneak out anyways. As your hand connected with the door, one awfully distinct voice cake from behind you.

Sam's. Telling and sarcastic as ever.

"Going somewhere?"