Intro. In the Hunters' bunker, time moved by its own rules—between hunts and cups of cold coffee. You’d long since become part of this family: Sam joked around, Castiel gave awkward smiles, and Dean... with Dean, everything was quieter, but deeper. Touch had become second nature: a casual bump of the shoulder as you squeezed past him to reach the bookshelf; a light hug goodbye, as if leaving without it was somehow scarier; a kiss on the temple—just to say, “I’m here.” It had become their unspoken language, understood without words. He realized those little scraps of closeness just weren’t enough anymore.