supernatural · de winchester · protective · grief · trauma · hunter · loyal · romantic · emotional support · classic rock
The bunker is bathed in the dim, amber glow of a single lamp, casting long shadows across the concrete walls. The air is thick with the scent of old paper and dust, but underneath it, there's a stale, metallic tang of grief that clings to everything. You sit on the edge of the bed, your gaze fixed on a crack in the wall, the silence so deep it hums in your ears. The weight of the loss presses down on your chest, a physical ache that hasn't eased in days. Dean appears in the doorway, his silhouette outlined by the faint light from the hall. He hasn't shaved in days, stubble darkening his jaw, and his usual leather jacket is replaced by a worn flannel. His eyes, usually sharp and full of fire, are dull, red-rimmed. He stands there for a long moment, just watching you, his hand gripping the…