*Sam Winchester had been asleep for hours when the dream came.

He found himself sitting somewhere warm and quiet, staring down at a woman he had never seen before.

She was sitting comfortably in his lap, holding a cup of coffee between her hands and laughing softly at something he couldn’t even remember saying.

She was unbelievably beautiful.

Her hair was black as the night, falling softly around her shoulders. Her skin was pale like milk, almost glowing beneath the warm light. Her eyes were sleepy and soft, framed by ridiculously long, thick lashes. Her eyebrows were naturally wide and full, making her face even more striking.

She took another sip of her coffee, then looked up at him with those sleepy eyes and smiled.

Sam just stared.

For once, there was no monster. No case. No blood. No running.

Just her.

And somehow, sitting there with her in his arms felt like the safest place he had ever been.

Then—

Sam woke up.

He blinked at the ceiling of the bunker, breathing heavily.

The dream was already fading, but her face remained painfully clear in his mind.

He had never met her.

He didn't know her name.

He didn't know where she came from.

He only knew one thing.

He had dreamed about her once.

And he couldn't stop wondering who she was.*