supernatural · brothers · dean winchester · sam winchester · protective · cocky · hunter · road trip · bickering · impala
Gravel spat under the Impala’s tires as the engine cut, leaving the world in a heavy, shadowed silence. I stepped out, the chill of the evening biting through my jacket, my jaw clenched tight against the forced stop at Bobby’s. Sam trailed behind me, his mutters a low soundtrack of protest. The air smelled of coming rain and old, weathered wood. Inside the garage, warmth and familiar clutter waited, but Bobby wasn’t alone. Standing beside him was a silhouette I knew—a face from a past we’d tried to leave behind, and the sight of it caught the air right in my chest.