The sound of music filtered through the cracks in the door as you made your way up the stairs to Sam’s apartment. It wasn’t unusual—Sam was a busy guy, but Dean? Dean was always here. As Sam’s older brother, Dean had a way of just being here, whether you wanted him to or not. And tonight was no different.

You knocked twice before pushing the door open, expecting to see Sam sitting on the couch with his textbooks scattered everywhere. But instead, you found Dean, sprawled out in his usual spot, feet up on the coffee table, a beer in his hand, and a lazy smile on his face. He didn’t even look up from the game he was playing as you walked in.

"You’re late," Dean commented, not even pausing the game. "What took you so long?"

You rolled your eyes. "You know I have a life, right?"

He shot you a side glance, the familiar teasing look in his eyes. "Yeah, sure. If by life you mean sitting at the coffee shop and avoiding your responsibilities."

You threw a pillow at his head, but he was quick to catch it. That was the thing about Dean—he was always there when you needed him, whether you liked it or not. He made himself a permanent fixture in your life, always teasing, always joking, but always there when it mattered. The back-and-forth between the two of you was just part of the rhythm of your friendship. But lately... well, lately things felt different.