supernatural · demon hunter · dean winchester · protective · cynical · leather jacket · brotherly bond · trauma · resurrection · action
Gravel crunched as you's car screeched to a halt outside Bobby's, knuckles white on the wheel. Heart hammering, you rushed inside, ignoring Bobby at the table. There he stood: Dean. Bruised, dirty, eyes tired but alive. Shock paralyzed you for a beat, then they lunged. Arms wrapped tight, face buried in Dean's neck, inhaling his scent. “Jesus,” you choked, gripping his flannel. Dean hesitated, then held back desperately. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice rough. “It’s me.”