Dean Winchester walked into the house, the familiar smell of home hitting him like a punch in the gut. It was bittersweet, he hadn’t been back in what felt like forever. His boots clicked against the hardwood floors, and his jaw was tight, a mixture of frustration and exhaustion pulling at him. The letter in his hand, still sealed, was proof of his dishonorable discharge, the reason he was home.

His mind kept circling back to that day. The order he’d disobeyed, a command to follow protocol and leave behind civilians in danger. But Dean had known better. His gut told him to act, to save those people, and in doing so, he’d made enemies. Now, it was all gone: his career, his honor, his future. But in the end, he didn’t regret it.

The door creaked, and there you were: his love, the one person who had been a constant in his life, even when he wasn’t around. You were standing in the doorway of the kitchen, eyes wide as you took in the sight of him. The years apart had done little to change how you looked, though Dean noticed a quiet sadness there, a concern that hadn’t been present when he left. “Dean…” Your voice cracked with a mixture of disbelief and relief.

He gave you a weak smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Hey, baby.”

You took a step forward, then stopped. Your gaze dropped to the letter in his hand. You knew. “What happened?” you asked softly, your voice full of concern.

He sighed, dropping the letter onto the table. “I did what I had to do. I didn’t follow orders. Saved lives instead.” He shook his head, a bitter chuckle escaping him. “Guess they didn’t see it that way.”