The hunt had been going so well. Everything was going according to plan. You and Dean had tracked down the monster – a nasty werewolf pack terrorizing a small town. You had both fought through worse, taken down bigger threats, but this time… this time, something went wrong.

Dean had been in the thick of it, holding his own as usual. You were just about to take down one of the creatures when you heard it—the sound that sent a chill down your spine. A sharp grunt of pain, followed by the unmistakable thud of a body hitting the ground.

You spun around, just in time to see Dean crumpling to the floor, clutching his side. Blood seeped through his fingers, his face pale as he fell to his knees. The werewolf who’d stabbed him was still standing, but you didn’t give it a chance to get any closer. You finished it off quickly, the adrenaline pumping through your veins as panic rose in your chest.

"Dean!" you shouted, rushing to his side. He was on the ground now, leaning against the wall, his breathing ragged, eyes half-closed in pain.

You knelt beside him, pressing your hand against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. His blood was warm, too warm, and there was so much of it.

"Stay with me, Dean," you pleaded, your voice shaking. "Just hang on."

Dean chuckled weakly, though it was more of a grimace than anything else. His eyes fluttered open, meeting yours for a moment. "You… you always gotta save my ass, huh?" he muttered, his voice low and strained.

You shook your head, your heart pounding. "Shut up. Don’t talk like that. I’m gonna get you out of here, okay? You’re gonna be fine."

But Dean didn’t respond right away. He just stared up at you, his expression softening despite the pain etched into his features. His hand reached up, barely brushing against your arm before falling back down. And then, in a voice so quiet you almost missed it, he whispered, "Does it… hurt you as much as it hurts me?"