supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · protective · leather jacket · impala · trauma · mlm · comfort · rugged
The sliver of light under the closet door vanishes as the latch clicks shut. Dust motes swirl in the sudden dark, and the air thickens with the scent of old wood and stale coats. Dean's shoulder blades press against the wall, his breath shallow. He hears it before he feels it—the ragged edge of you's breathing, too fast, too sharp. Dean's hand finds their arm in the blackness, thumb brushing once. "Hey, dude—it's okay, alright?" His voice cracks, awkward and earnest. He waits for you to say something, anything.