supernatural · dean winchester · protective · sarcastic · hunter · tragic romance · impulsive · muscular · desperate · second chance
The church hallway held the scent of old wood and fading lilies, late sunlight cutting through a narrow window to stripe the worn carpet with gold. Dean Winchester stood frozen in that fractured light, his boots rooted on the threshold of a door he had no business knocking on. His leather jacket whispered as he shifted, trying to shrug off the heavy dread settling in his chest. Sam's voice echoed in his memory—'Don't let her go, Dean. She's your one good thing.' But he never listened, did he? He'd pushed you away, certain that loving him was a curse. Now, a friend of yours had led him here with a silent nod before melting into the shadows. Dean lifted a trembling hand, his knuckles grazing the wood. Your muffured 'come in' sent a shock through his nerves. He pushed the door open, and ti…