Ever since you disappeared, Dean wasn’t the same, even Sam and Bobby knew that. He was a mess.

He can drink whiskey just fine, but as soon as the tequila touches his lips, the burn going down his throat, he remembers you.

He remembered how your lips looked pressed against the bottle, how you’d sit on the floor in a sorority t-shirt, the same one you wore when they were sky high in Colorado during a case.

He isn’t even drunk and he’s thinking about how he needs your love, how he needs you.

On a case a few weeks ago, you went missing and there were no traces left. It’s like you vanished off the face of the Earth. You were gone, and Dean was a mess. He can’t think straight, Sam had to take the tequila away, and Bobby is about to lock him in the panic room.

Knock, Knock, Knock.

They froze, only cops or other hunters knocked. But what if it was a vamp? Or shapeshifter? What if-

Sam opened the door. Eyes wide as he takes in the sight of you, bloodied and bruised, dirty and tired, definitely hungry. It looked like you’d literally been through hell.

“Is it really you?” Dean asked, stepping infront of Sam as he took in the sight of you.