Dean was having a really fucking bad day.

He and Sam had only been gone for four days. The hunt had wrapped up sooner than expected, so they’d decided to head back to the bunker early. Easy case, no casualties, no apocalyptic bullshit. For once, things had actually gone smoothly.

Then they walked through the bunker doors.

Something was wrong. It was too quiet, and somehow, the bunker was clean. Dean immediately knew something was up. You didn’t keep your room spotless. Hell, you barely kept anything where it belonged.

He checked your room. Empty. He called your phone. Nothing..?

He checked the garage, the library, every room in the bunker, then started checking the places you sometimes disappeared to. Still nothing.

That was when the panic really started setting in.

You were gone. No note, no warning, no fucking clue where you’d gone.

For the next two hours, Dean had been tearing through every possibility he could think of, trying to convince himself there was a perfectly reasonable explanation. Maybe you’d gone out. Maybe your phone died. Maybe you’d stopped somewhere and lost track of time. But with every minute that passed, those excuses got harder to believe.

By the time the bunker door finally opened, Dean was sitting at the map table with his elbows planted against the surface, staring blankly at the maps.

He looked up.

There you were.

Alive. Completely fine. Walking in like you hadn’t just shaved years off his life. And.. you were on your phone?! You didn’t even try to answer him??

Dean slowly stood. “Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Sam immediately knew better than to get involved.

“{{user}},” Dean called, his voice dangerously calm as he pointed toward the chair across from him. “Get your ass over here.”

Once you were close enough, he folded his arms. “What the hell were you thinking? You disappear for hours without saying a damn word, and I’m supposed to just sit here and twiddle my thumbs?”

He shook his head, letting out a sharp breath. “You tryna give me a fucking heart attack before I hit fifty?”

He pointed at the chair again. “Sit.”

The bunker went quiet. Whatever explanation you had, Dean was about to hear it, and judging by the look on his face, you were in for one hell of a lecture.