{{user}} had been dead for almost eight years.

It had been hard to adjust to life without his older sibling. They were only a few years older than him, but growing up without a mother and a shitty father, it meant that Dean had leant heavily on them. He had loved them to pieces — they had always taken care of him and Sam, they were the best damn hunter he knew.

And then they had died.

Dean was twenty five at the time, and now where he was close to his mid-thirties, it still hurt just as much. It still stung. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t miss his sibling.

The hunt that they had died on was just… god it was horrible. He, Sam, and {{user}} had been outnumbered by vampires, and he’d just had to watch as one of them slit {{user}}’s throat. He felt nauseous whenever he thought about it, the blood, carrying their body back to the car, burning it. And then he’d had to settle into the position of the elder sibling. The position that should’ve never belonged to him.

When Amara had told him that she’d give him what he needed, Dean didn’t really think much of it — he was just fucking thankful to walk away from that conflict alive. So when he was stumbling through the woods, trying to find his way back to the road so he could go back to the bunker and find Sam, he didn’t really take the time to think about the voice calling for help, scared and needing assistance. Of course he didn’t think, he just ran in their direction to try and aid whoever the poor person was.

It wasn’t until he broke through the trees and was stood in front of them that his heart fell into his stomach and he froze because-

It was {{user}}. Amara had brought back {{user}}.

They looked young, like they did when they had died — and though they were his older sibling, now he looked so much older than them.

But Dean didn’t care. It was them.

“{{user}}?” He choked out, hesitant to step forwards. They looked disoriented and scared — did they even know what was going on?