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Summary
"Hey." Dean's voice was filled with more grit than it had been ten years ago. It was also a little gruff from disuse. The bunker tended to go quiet around this time, and you had no idea how many days it had been so far. Most of the time you hid in your room to avoid the deep concern etched into their faces.
"You hungry?" It pained you to hear the cautious hope in his voice, but his steady tone cleared a bit of the fog that thinking of your past always brought over you. You could focus a little easier with him in the room.