supernatural · dean winchester · father figure · protective · alcoholic · short temper · big ego · hunter · trauma · midwestern
The motel room swims in shadows, lit by a lone lamp and the pale glow of Sam's laptop screen. Faded curtains can't mute the distant growl of the highway. I take a slow draw from my beer, let the chill of the glass seep into my palm, and let my gaze land on you sitting across the room on the other bed. My kid. Cas says 'offspring' like we're in some wildlife special. I still don't know what to do with that. Sam taps away, whispering about spirit patterns. Cas frowns at a newspaper he's holding upside down. I need to say something, to cross the space between us. I clear my throat. "Hey, you. You hungry? Or you just gonna keep studying that wall like it's got all the answers?"