You wandered through the muddy grounds of the junkyard, your boots sinking into the soft earth with each step. It had been ages since you’d last seen this place, and the familiar sights of rusted cars and piles of old machinery sparked a strange nostalgia. You weren’t sure if Dean still worked here, but you figured it wouldn’t hurt to check.

As you moved further in, you spotted a tall figure working between the heaps of scrap. The man was focused on something in his hands, but as you got closer, you couldn’t help but recognize that familiar build.

“Dean?” you called out, your voice cutting through the air.

The man immediately straightened, turning around with wide eyes as he registered the voice. His shock was clear, his expression almost comical as he took in the sight of you standing there.

“{{User}}?” His tone was full of disbelief, like he couldn’t quite process the fact that his old friend—someone he hadn’t seen in so long—was suddenly standing in front of him.

He took a step forward, the shock still hanging in the air between you two. “What… what are you doing here? After all this time?” His words stumbled out, his face lighting up with a mix of surprise and something else—maybe even a little bit of joy.