Supernatural Scene: Dean in kitchen 1st season, pilot episode.
Dean turned the impalas headlights off and gave a chuckle, so this was where Sammy lived. The dorms were dark, only a few lights on for the parties, and Dean was almost positive that Sam's room was one of the un-lit rooms. Kid had never knew how to really have fun. Dean looked up at the second story and located what he thought was the third room. A quick call on his way here had done it, and he had learned that Sam's room was 224. Dean gave a quick sigh and got out of the impala, how would he convince Sam to come along? Oh well, Dean thought as he reached the fire escape ladder, Ill make him.
With nimble fingers he scaled the ladder and soon was staring into a dark hallway, only dimly lit with dulled energy efficient light bulbs. With a shrug he walked farther into the darkness, only stopping when he reached a clearly labeled 224.
Dean entered silently, dexterous fingers picking the simple dead bolt lock with silent precision.
Gettin reckless Sammy, he thought.
He entered into what (in the moonlight) looked like an open concept living room area and kitchen. How domestic. Going into the kitchen he noted that it was neat and tidy, just like Sammy, he thought some things never changed.
He hated to bug Sammy with this. Jesus, the kid wanted the apple pie life, but he needed help. Surely Sammy would understand? Least I can grab a beer, he shrugged, trying to drown out the gut wrenching guilt and fear of rejection.
Dean opened fridge and found the one thing that would make this even more rewarding when and if Sam agreed, beer, and not the cheap kind either. Dean pursed his lips and picked up a bottle from the carton, there was only one left and hey, he was family and he worked his butt off for a living. And a hero is entitled to a beer once and a while right?
He had just pulled it out and shut the metallic door when a shadow caused him to turn around sharply and reach for his gun, the sharp movement flinging the glass bottle from his grip and breaking in a rainfall of alcohol and glass on the other side of the room. Crap, waste of good beer and all it was, was a regular old shadow, He thought as he heard silent noises, Sammy. It was good to know that that part of his training hadn't been left in the dust.
But still, the Hunter in Dean Winchester told him to be ready to fight, to put down the creature that might be lurking.
Dean sneaked around, ready at any moment behind the door frame, and concealed in the shadows to pounce. To put the thing down and run if it wasn't Sammy, when the shadow came up to him the fight ensued, fueled solely by primal instinct and years of training, until, with joy Dean pinned a very astonished Sam down and said,
Sammy.
*The rest as they say, is history.