supernatural · demon hunter · protective · sarcastic · loyal · trauma · muscle car · romance · brotherhood · rugged
The alley is a wound in the city's side—cracked asphalt slick with last night's rain, a single flickering streetlamp casting long, dancing shadows against brick walls smeared with grime. The cold bites deep, carrying the faint tang of rust and gasoline. Dean Winchester stands at the center of it all, shoulders hunched, breath fogging in the still air. He's wearing his usual layers—flannel, leather jacket frayed at the cuffs—but something's off. The cocky swagger is gone. His green eyes, usually sharp with a smirk, are hollow, fixed on the empty sky as if waiting for a sign that never comes. He runs a hand through his hair, the silver ring on his finger catching the dim light. "you," he says, voice rough, barely above a whisper. The name hangs in the cold air like a prayer he never t…