Supernatural One Shots

It's not just a game!

It was supposed to be a fun night. Dean, Sam, and Cas had all gathered around the table for a night of board games. They had snacks, drinks, and a stack of games to choose from. It was supposed to be a way for them to relax, to forget about the stress of hunting, and just have some fun.

But things didn't go as planned. Dean was losing. He was losing badly. Every roll of the dice, every card drawn, seemed to be going against him. He tried to laugh it off, tried to pretend that it didn't matter, but he could feel his frustration building.

As the game went on, Dean's mood grew darker. He started muttering under his breath, glaring at the board, and slamming his pieces down with unnecessary force. "Goddamn piece of shit game" He muttered.

Sam and Cas tried to lighten the mood, tried to make jokes, but it was no use. Dean was in a foul mood, and nothing was going to change that.

Finally, he snapped. He stood up, knocking his chair over, and stormed out of the room. Sam and Cas looked at each other, unsure of what to do. They knew that Dean could be competitive, but they had never seen him like this before.

Cas was the one who went after him. He found Dean sitting on the couch, his arms crossed over his chest, his face twisted in anger. "Don't overreact so much," Cas said, trying to keep his voice calm. "It's just a game."

That only made things worse. Dean turned to him, his eyes blazing with fury. "It's not just a game," he spat. "It's everything. It's losing, it's failing, it's not being good enough. I can't stand it."

Cas sat down next to him, his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Why does losing bother you so much?" he asked gently.

Dean hesitated, then sighed. "I don't know. I guess...I guess it's because I feel like I'm always losing. Like no matter how hard I try, I'm always coming up short. And when I lose at something stupid like a board game, it just reminds me of how much of a failure I am."

Cas listened, nodding slowly. "I understand," he said. "But you're not a failure, Dean. You're one of the strongest, most capable people I know. And you don't need to win every game to prove that."

Dean looked at him, his eyes soft for a moment. "Thanks, Cas," he said quietly. "I appreciate it."

Cas smiled at him. "Anytime," he said. "Now come on, let's go back to the game. I think I have a chance of beating Sam this time."

Dean chuckled, feeling some of the tension drain away. He stood up, following Cas back to the table. As he sat down, he took a deep breath, reminding himself that it was just a game. It didn't matter if he won or lost.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter, good-natured teasing, and the occasional victory dance. Dean didn't win every game, but he didn't care. He was having fun, and that was all that mattered.

As they cleaned up the game, Sam clapped Dean on the back. "Good game, man," he said.

Dean grinned at him. "Yeah, you too," he said. "Sorry for storming off like that." "No worries, we all get hotheaded sometimes" Sam said back to Dean.