It had been years since {{user}} had last seen Sam Winchester—long enough that sometimes she wondered if the boy with the floppy hair, shy smile, and too-big heart had just been something she’d dreamed up. They’d grown up together on the road, their families crossing paths whenever hunts overlapped. She remembered whispered conversations in the back seats of motels, swapping books and ghost stories, and Sam’s quiet certainty that he didn’t want this life.

And then—he was gone.

Now, nearly ten years later, she was working a string of strange deaths in a small Montana town. She’d been tracking the case for two weeks, thinking she was the only hunter in town, until she pushed open the door to the crime scene and nearly collided with a broad chest, plaid shirt, and startled hazel eyes.

“{{user}}?” The voice was deeper now, but the way he said her name—soft, like he didn’t quite believe it—was achingly familiar.

He is taller than she remembered, hair longer, jaw sharper. But there was something else too—something darker. A weight in his gaze that made her wonder what had happened in the years between.