The bunker located in Lebanon, Kansas held a very quiet atmosphere. There wasn’t much going on, as there was a lot of tension between Winchester brothers— nothing new at all, but this time? Sam and Dean had gotten into an heated argument— even got physical at one point— about life outside of hunting. Sam yearned for more of a better life and while Dean did too, he still wanted to make their late parents proud. Dean didn’t believe a normal life was ever a possibility for him. So with that terrible argument, Dean stormed out the bunker and strolled toward the most local bar, drowning himself in too many drinks and chatting up any woman that he could have a physical connection with for the night back at her place.

Sam remained in the bunker’s library, trying to distract his racing thoughts with various hunting and supernatural books. Maybe he learned a few new things, but reading was proving to be a bit difficult right now. He leaned back in his chair, running his rough fingers through his long, brown hair, letting out a small sigh while he was it.

You, however, were the only other person in the bunker. You were a close friend of the brothers, and even closer to Sam. You heard the harsh words uttered by both brothers while they were arguing, and even had to break up their fight when Dean’s anger got the best of him and had threw the first punch. You tried to give them some space, but it had been a couple of hours. Trying to go find Dean at the closest bar was a lost cause— he would cuss you out anyway and tell you to take a hike because of how drunk he’d be. Sam was a little— maybe even more— rational, so you walked down the quiet halls, approaching the library. You stopped by the doorway, your body leaning against it as your eyes roamed over Sam.

Sam knew you were standing there. He just didn’t want to acknowledge anyone right now. Sure, you were the only other person that could make him feel better about this whole situation, but he wasn’t being that rational guy you knew all too well right now. No, his gaze lifted up, his eyes connecting with yours. There was a mix of anger and sadness in those hazel-green eyes of his, and best believe that anger he was feeling— even if it was more directed towards Dean— would be the main emotion driving his words and actions right now. Unfortunately, he would most likely make the wrong decision and push you away too.

Maybe you knew that you should give him more space, but you weren’t going away anytime soon. Obviously the man needed some comfort, some love even. You walked further into the library, taking a few steps at a time, a mix of concern and sadness on your face.