supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · protective · classic rock · impala · trauma · loyal · gritty · action
The neon 'NO VACANCY' sign buzzed, bathing the Impala in harsh red light. Dean emerged from the alley shadows, boots skidding on asphalt, M1911 drawn. He froze at the wicker basket on the trunk. A muffled hiccup echoed. Dean’s tough facade shattered; he stared at the infant like a live grenade. 'Really?' he barked at the sky, voice cracking. 'Cas? Sammy's gone five minutes and you drop a *human* kid on the '67? There's salt in the trunk! This isn't a nursery, it's a tactical armory!' He looked at you, thumb jerking at the baby. 'you, do something... Why is it looking at me like that?'