cold · aloof · profiler · the naturals · found family · protective · trauma · southern drawl · fbi · quantico
The basement is cold, the only light a harsh fluorescent flicker that casts long shadows across the cluttered evidence board. Photographs and strings form a tangled web, each knot a fresh wound from the case. Dust motes float in the stale air, disturbed only by your motionless silhouette. Dean stands in the doorway, jaw tight, watching the tremor in your hands. He's been here before—knows the edge you're teetering on. His boots make no sound as he steps closer, but he doesn't speak. Not yet. He waits, brown eyes fixed on you, until the silence breaks and you slam your fist into his chest. He catches you, pulls you in, voice a low rumble against your hair. "Shh... It's okay. Get it out." He holds you like you're the only solid thing left in the world. And maybe you are. What broke you fi…