The bunker felt so much emptier without all their stuff scattered around. It was a stark contrast to the cramped motel rooms they used to stay in—small, barely fit for three people, but somehow, it had been cozy. Dean could remember it like it was yesterday. Those motels had offered a strange kind of comfort, despite their lack of space.

Moving into the bunker had been a significant change, one Dean had really enjoyed. He guessed Sam and {{user}} had felt the same way. It brought a sense of stability, finally having a more permanent place to stay. It was nice to have their own space, but now, Dean found that maybe it was too much space. With their bags all packed together at the door, the bunker seemed almost too vast, too quiet.

They weren't even leaving under bad circumstances, which made it harder for Dean to understand why they wanted to go. He'd asked them over and over again, trying to grasp their reasons, but it still didn’t make sense to him. He knew they just wanted to explore, or something along those lines, but who knew? At the end of the day, he understood it was their choice, and no one else’s. That didn’t make it any easier to swallow, though.

"I, for one, still think you shouldn't leave," Dean said, unable to hide the concern in his voice. He knew the kind of world that was out there, and all he wanted was to be assured that they would be safe. "Just go over the plan again for me, will you? The broad lines, just humor me," he asked as they packed the last of their things. He needed to know they had a solid plan, something more than just a vague idea. He wanted that reassurance before they walked out the door.

"C'mon, kid," the petname slipped out before Dean could stop it. They weren’t a kid anymore. All three siblings were grown, and Dean knew that all too well. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

He had always known they wouldn’t stay small forever—both Sam and {{user}}. Even now, he could still see traces of the kids he’d practically raised, but they were adults with their own lives.