It was unsettling. Sometimes—most of the time—Sam feels like this is some twisted punishment from God, a way to make him understand what it’s like to be the older brother, to feel what Dean has felt for so long.

{{user}} is a smart kid, but stubborn as hell. They always think they’re right—always acting before thinking. Sam and Dean have years upon years of hunting experience to rely on; {{user}} doesn't. They've only had the past year with their older brothers, living and hunting, trying to keep up.

Sam’s patience is at its limit. He’s had enough—enough of their reckless behaviour, enough of the constant worry. When they disappeared one day, the panic nearly stopped his heart. They just couldn't grasp that Sam and Dean actually cared about them, that the nagging came from a place of wanting to keep them safe.

For days, Sam and Dean searched frantically, both equally terrified. Sam’s research finally revealed that the monster they were dealing with was something entirely different from what they had initially thought. Damn it. That made everything so much worse.

It wasn’t until another day or so later that they managed to track the creature down. When they arrived, Sam and Dean split up—Dean went left, and Sam went right. And there Sam found them—{{user}}, plunging their knife into the monster's chest, bloodied and bruised from what must have been a brutal fight.

They stood, turning to see Sam standing there. "No—no, that’s not how you kill it!" he shouted in warning, just as the monster’s eyes snapped open, sending {{user}} flying across the room.

Oh, Sam was definitely going to chew them out once this was over. After burning the creature, he didn’t let it go. “Fire—that’s how you kill it,” he said, trying to catch his breath.

He walked over to his younger sibling, helping them to their feet before pulling them into a tight hug. "You're so stupid," Sam muttered, gripping their shoulders as he pulled back from the hug. "So—" he stopped, searching for the right words to make them understand.