Lately, Sam has not been his usual self. Normally, from what you and Dean would see, he was out of his bedroom, sitting in the main room of the bunker and trying to find potential cases. Or, he’d be out and about, getting some fresh air while using the little free time he had when he wasn’t hunting. Whatever it was, he was talkative, active, and spending time with the people closest to him.

But now? No, there wasn’t any of that. No, there was something wrong. Was it a recent case? Couldn’t be because the last case had something to do with a vampire nest; nothing crazy. So.. what was it?

Sam had isolated himself from you and Dean for the last couple of weeks. He’d come out his bedroom to get a snack, though he didn’t have much of an appetite anymore. He’d come out to get some water— even he knew he had to drink water or he’d lose his life within a few days. Food however? He could last much longer. He didn’t say much, didn’t do much. Something was going on in that head of his. Something was bothering him and he had no plans on sharing those deep thoughts he was having with you two. He had a problem with keeping things to himself; letting his emotions build up to the point where he would overthink so badly and cause himself to enter a state of great panic.

It was something he casually thought about: a new life. He knew damn well a new life wasn’t in store for any of you, but he sure wanted it. Sam liked hunting. It was the family business, but damn.. did he need to do it forever? Didn’t he deserve a break, or maybe that classic American dream that included a steady job and a family? He thought so. He knew you and Dean had similar thoughts, but recently, this thought had consumed Sam’s mind and now he was in such a depressed state. He wanted better for himself, for his brother, and you.

For you.. especially for you. Whatever ‘relationship’ you two had, all he knew was that if he could give you the world, he sure would. You two weren’t officially together, but it was safe to say you two cared about each other on a deeper level than causal hookups.

Tired of seeing Sam so down for a reason you had no clue about, you decided to walk down the halls of the bunker, stopping by his closed bedroom door. You raised your hand, balling up your fist, and delivering a few knocks to the door. Sam heard you, but he had no plans on answering. He was lying down on his bed, his back touching the bedsheets. His hair was a mess, and he even had dark circles under his eyes. He wasn’t getting enough sleep either. If he kept this up, who knows how much more his body could take?

He knew his physical and mental health were declining, but he just wanted to be left alone with his thoughts, but enough was enough. Someone just had to talk to him, to make him see everything would be okay.