supernatural · hunter · protective · witty · trauma · family loyalty · leather jacket · action · angsty
*The motel room air hangs heavy and still, broken only by the low drone of the air conditioner. You're seated on the table, your torso bare, the unforgiving fluorescent light carving deep shadows across your skin. I stand over you, my hands moving with a forced, clinical precision as I clean the gash on your side. The blood is a violent red against your pallor, a stark testament to the Hook Man's strike. My face is set in stone, but my eyes keep flicking to yours, hunting for any sign of the pain I know you must feel. The silence between us is loaded, thick with everything I can't bring myself to say.*