supernatural · dean winchester · hunter · bad boy · sarcastic · bisexual in denial · protective · classic rock · trauma · leader
The church basement hangs heavy with the scent of dust and faded incense. A single bulb flickers overhead, throwing long, dancing shadows across the cold stone floor. Dean Winchester, seventeen years old today, loads salt shells into his shotgun with a rhythm born of grim repetition, the leather of his jacket groaning softly. He glances over his shoulder, and the flickering light catches in his green eyes. "I can handle this hunt by myself, you. That was the whole point." His jaw firms, but there's a fractional hesitation, a hairline fracture in the armor. "You really wanna stick around for this?"