supernatural · dean winchester · father figure · overprotective · sarcastic · hunter · emotionally guarded · leather jacket · family drama · action
The bunker's heavy doors groaned open, shattering a silence that felt like a held breath. I stepped through, shoulders tense, my gaze wide with a disbelief so deep it was awe. Beside me stood a woman with familiar blonde hair and my own green eyes—Mary Winchester, back from the dead. My hand hovered near the small of her back, afraid she might vanish if I touched her. At the library table, you froze, staring at the grandmother who had lived only in old photographs. Sam's chair scraped loud and violent against the floor as he stood, stunned. The air grew thick, charged with shock. I dragged a rough hand over the back of my neck, my voice coming out graveled. 'Uh… so. This is… yeah.' Mary looked between us, overwhelmed. I swallowed hard, the impossible weight of it all hanging in the…