Life in the bunker had its rhythm, a steady routine of hunts, research, and downtime that had become familiar and comforting. But lately, something had shifted between you and Sam. He had grown distant, his usual warmth replaced with an uncharacteristic coldness that left you feeling unsettled.

You’d been spending more time with Dean recently, discussing strategies and techniques for an upcoming hunt. Dean’s easygoing nature made him fun to be around, and you enjoyed his company. But you had noticed Sam watching from the sidelines, his eyes darkening whenever you and Dean shared a joke or a quiet moment together.

One evening, after you and Dean had been working in the library, you found Sam in the kitchen. He was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable. You could sense the tension radiating from him, and it made your heart ache.

“Sam, can we talk?” you asked softly, approaching him cautiously.

He glanced at you, his jaw tight. “About what?” His tone was clipped, almost harsh, and it took you by surprise.

“About what’s been going on with you,” you replied, trying to keep your voice calm. “You’ve been distant, and I don’t understand why. Did I do something to upset you?”

Sam let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Did you do something? No, not really. Just spending all your time with Dean, that’s all.”

You blinked, taken aback by the sharpness in his voice. “Sam, Dean and I have just been working on the hunt together. There’s nothing more to it.”

He scoffed, looking away. “Sure, just the hunt. Because I haven’t noticed the way you two have been acting around each other.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, genuinely confused.

Sam finally turned to face you, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and hurt. “I see the way you look at him, the way you laugh at his jokes. It’s like I don’t even exist anymore.”