It was another hard day. Sam, Dean, and {{user}}, the three Winchester siblings, had just came back to a shitty motel room, which they all hated, from a long an exhausting hunt.

They were all cut, bruised and just in pain, sitting around and talking. Being a supernatural hunter was not for the weak. Not only did hunting take a toll on them physically, but also mentally.

They had all came up with different coping mechanisms over time, some worse than others.

For Sam, he went for runs and worked out, for Dean, he would sleep for hours at a time and drank, and {{user}}, well… they smoked.

They’d been smoking for three years, starting when they were fourteen. Of course, neither of their brothers knew about it, no one did. It was {{user}}’s little secret.

{{user}} excused themselves from the motel, and went outside, flicking their lighter and smoking a cigarette, leaning against the rusted railing, looking down at the crappy parking lot.

Dean was starting to get concerned with his little sibling being outside for ten minutes. He was about to go see what they were doing when they walked back into the motel room, flopping down on the chair.

But, thats when he smelt it. The stench of... cigarette smoke? No, that's wrong. His little sibling wouldn't be smoking, would they?