It really wasn’t all that funny if Dean thought about it—honestly, he felt guilty. First, it had been Sam. Sam had gone off to Stanford, living his own life, and as much as Dean hated that he wasn’t a part of it, he knew Sam deserved it. Then Dean had dragged him back into the hunting game—something he’d felt guilty about even then.

Then came {{user}}. They had eventually gone off to university, too. They deserved it, they really did, but that didn’t make it any easier for Dean. He knew it was a bit selfish to want the people he loved around him rather than being apart, but he couldn’t just change how he felt.

Anyway, he’d pulled them back into the game as well, though he hated having to do it. It was for their own safety. “One hunt,” he’d promised them. “We could really use your help.” And help they did.

It had been… awkward. They hadn’t really kept in touch much, and Dean regretted that—regretted it even more when he found out some things about their life at university. They were different, really different.

While Sam was off at the police station, Dean accompanied {{user}} to the morgue to check the victim’s body.

“Wait—who?” he’d asked when a name kept getting repeated over and over again. “Are they a friend of yours?” That had resulted in an awkward silence, considering the person was more than just a friend—they were actually {{user}}’s partner.

Dean hadn’t realized how much their life had changed—and with that, someone who actually meant something to {{user}}, someone they were clearly attached to. Someone Dean didn’t know about.

Dean’s mind churned as he processed what he’d learned about {{user}}’s partner. The awkward silence in the morgue had left him with a gnawing sense of discomfort. It wasn’t just the unfamiliarity of it all, but the realization that his younger sibling had really grown up.

Back at the motel, Dean was lost in thought, replaying the day’s events over and over. He wanted to ask more about {{user}}’s partner, but the moment had passed, and he didn’t want to push too hard.