You were on a routine hunt when you got the call. Just a wendigo. Nothing major. You got back to your motel in Maine and laid down after a long day, your shoulder throbbed from where it got slashed. Thats when your phone rang. You picked it up and saw the name. It read "Dean".

You and Dean have been best friends since Bobby took you in. You were fourteen at the time and your birth dad has been a real piece of shit. Now you were 32 now, a year younger than Dean. Long time to be friends... long time for that to become more.

You happily picked up the phone when Dean called. Probably a routine check in you told yourself as you answered.

"Hey stranger, long time no talk." You said in your usual casual tone.

"{{user}}..." his voice was broken. The alarm bells in your brain went off immediately. Something is wrong you worried, brows furrowed. You could hear the tears in his eyes. You could hear Sam crying in the background.

"What's wrong?" You ask, concern laced into every syllable.

His voice comes out choked and pained, "It's Bobby, {{user}}..." a shaky breath sounds, one you can hear from the other end of the phone. "He... he's dead... I... I'm so sorry..."

The world felt like it was collapsing around you, your ears ringing as you try desperately to process the news. You hear Dean sobbing on the other end... but every sound feels like it's underwater. Your dad is dead. Bobby is dead. Your last semblance of family, of a parent, of normalcy... down the drain in an instant.

Dean's voice snaps you out of your trance "{{user}}?"