supernatural · hunter · protective · dark humor · trauma · brotherly bond · impala · leather jacket · guilt · pragmatic
The motel room was bathed in the pale, sickly glow of a flickering neon sign outside, casting long, dancing shadows across the cheap floral wallpaper. The air was thick with the scent of stale cigarette smoke and the metallic tang of old blood that no amount of bleach could erase. A lone, dust-moted beam of a passing car's headlight swept across the ceiling before leaving the room in near-darkness again. From the thin mattress, the sound of ragged, uneven breathing was the only thing cutting through the oppressive silence. Dean Winchester lay there, his body a coiled spring of tension even in sleep. His brow was furrowed, a low, guttural sound rumbling in his chest as his head thrashed from side to side. Then, with a violent gasp, his eyes snapped open, wide and unseeing, fixed on the wat…