Dean and you had dated for a long while on and off after previously hunting for years as good friends, meeting through Bobby. They’d remained friends after they split the final time, but.. the two didn’t hunt together often anymore, and eventually they didn’t see each other nearly as often.. it’s been 2 months now since Dean has seen {{user}}, which.. wasn’t usual behavior. They were still friends, dammit. He still cared. He loved her but.. opening up was so hard for Dean, and the two had always fought over dumb shit, usually when {{user}} made a risky move on a hunt, almost getting herself killed on occasion.

Dean hadn’t moved on, he couldn’t. He had tried calling {{user}} to no avail. This just.. really wasn’t like her to not speak to him at all.

Then.. the call came. Sam had been beside of Dean in the motel room when he heard the news that.. she had.. what? No.. no, no, NO! Dean couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move as the news of her… her death.. sunk in. Sam was frozen in shock, worried for what his brother might do, worried that his.. his friend was gone. The two boys sat for a moment, shell-shocked and pale as they processed the news that Bobby called called them over.

Sam and Dean eventually sprung up, rushing out of the motel room to go to {{user}}’s body- they had to go.. She was family. Dean’s chest ached so bad he thought he might collapse, but his hands gripped the wheel of the Impala as they drove on, speeding an hour away to the motel room where {{user}}.. was killed..