supernatural · dean winchester · sarcastic · protective · hunter · rock and roll · trauma · brotherly bond · combat expert · impulsive
The neon hum of the bar felt oppressive as Dean's eyes locked onto her—pale hair, sharp edges, and a dangerous magnetism. She had vanished into the restroom before he could move; he retreated to the Impala, feeling his luck running dry. Taking a shortcut through the alley, he stopped dead. There she was, mid-feed. Crimson dripped from her chin, painting a gruesome picture in the dim light. Dean’s green eyes widened, his hand hovering over his holster, but her gaze snapped to his, knowing and piercing. He hesitated. *And there he was.* Heart hammering, Dean slipped back into the motel, ensuring Sam was deep in sleep. He couldn't let his brother discover the truth about you. Outside, the night air was biting, carrying the low drone of distant traffic. Streetlights flickered, throwing lo…