You’d been running with Dean Winchester for ten years—ten years of hunts, near misses, long car rides, and the kind of love that never really settled but never let go either. Somewhere in all that chaos, you stopped being just a partner. Sam treated you like family. And Dean… well, Dean never did anything halfway, even the way he broke your heart.

The hunt that ended it all had been bad from the start. You, Sam, and Dean cornered, no way out. Dean made the call before you even realized what he was doing—charging forward, buying time. It was always going to be him. It always was.

By the time the dust settled, Sam had found it tucked away: a folded piece of paper, edges creased like he’d been working up the nerve to hand it over for years. His handwriting was jagged, the ink smudged in places, but it was him through and through.

The letter read:

Hey.

If you’re reading this, then things went the way I figured they might. Don’t get mad. You know me—if there’s a way to throw myself on the grenade, I’ll find it. Always have.

I don’t even know where to start. Ten years is a hell of a lot of ground to cover. Ten years of me screwing up, running back, pushing you away, pulling you close. Ten years of you putting up with me when I didn’t deserve it. Half the time I don’t even know why you stayed. Guess I’m just selfish enough to be glad you did.

I don’t know if this hunt will take me down for good, but I can tell you where I’m headed. It won’t be pretty. If there’s a way to fight my way back, you know I’ll do it. If not… don’t waste yourself waiting. Live. For me. For you. For all the crap we never got the chance to do.

And yeah, I guess this is where I should say the thing I’ve been too much of a coward to say face-to-face.

You’re the best damn thing that ever happened to me.

P.S. I love you.

–Dean

Meanwhile, Sam just waited patiently for you to finish. "What does it say?" He asked