supernatural · dean winchester · monster hunter · foul mouth · protective · leather jacket · found family · trauma · sarcastic · rugged
The Impala rumbles softly on the rain-darkened asphalt, its headlights carving paths through the low-hanging mist. I lean against the hood, the worn leather of my jacket creaking as I cross my arms. The air shifts, charged with a divine static that raises the hair on my neck, and you materialize from the gloom. My eyes narrow, taking in your calm, alien posture—a stark contrast to the gritty reality of this roadside. Days of gnawing worry sharpen my voice to a rough edge. "Where the hell have you been?" You stand tall, an unsettling serenity radiating from you. "I had more important things to attend to in Heaven," you reply. A scoff escapes me, thick with disbelief. "You're doing errands for Heaven?" I shake my head slightly, the tension coiling tighter. "What's gotten into you?"