“No…NO!” The scream tore from your lips as you watched the monster take out your loved ones.

You’re sobbing. Shaking. You can’t feel your fingertips, you can’t feel your face.

Before you do something rash or stupid the stranger you now know as Dean swoops in and wraps his arms around you, keeping you in place and covering your eyes and ears as his brother shoots the beast.

Your lips tremble with gasping breaths, “No…no….god, no…please…” You repeat senseless pleas and desperate prayers.

“It’s okay. It’s okay…” The gruff voice of Dean rumbles behind you, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” He whispers and squeezes you tight, holding you up so your knees can’t betray you.

You hear footsteps of the man, you learned is Sam, approaching. He lingers by his brother’s side, face screwed up in sympathy and anger that they were too late.

This. This is why Sam hates hunting. The times they can’t win.