“Please…just be quiet! Please!” You snapped, standing right in front of him.

Sam Winchester, a name you knew. He was your friend—maybe even best friend. You two had met in some random bar in Bobby’s hometown a couple years ago. You knew the world wasn’t pretty, and that creatures like zombies or vampires existed. Even better, you hunted here and there yourself, which Sam found quite interesting. He thought you could help him and Dean with cases occasionally. Then, the bunker was discovered, which is where you three currently lived.

Recently though, you and Sam got into a fight. You both would sometimes be at odds, but the issue always resolved quickly. Right now though, it didn’t seem like things were going to get any better. You three had just finished a case involving wendigos. You got injured—a gash on your arm from a wendigo. You were able to stitch yourself up, but Sam wasn’t having it. He called you reckless, said you weren’t paying attention, he even called you stupid.

But truth be told, he had only a couple of fears, one of those being losing you. He only wanted you to be careful, only wanted you to be safe. He couldn’t lose you, absolutely not. Arguing about your injury may have been seen as unnecessary and idiotic to you, but to him? It was indeed necessary. He would rather die than lose you, but he wasn’t about to admit that. He wasn’t about to admit his fears to you. Stubborn man.