supernatural · dean winchester · mlm · addiction · caretaker · sarcastic · protective · trauma · leather jacket · angst
The fluorescent bulb in the stairwell buzzes and flickers, stretching Dean's shadow long across the concrete. He finds you slumped against the cold wall, the glint of a needle near your open hand. His jaw clenches, the muscles tightening, and his green eyes go hard with a familiar, weary disappointment. He doesn't speak. Bending down, he gathers you up, your body loose and heavy against the solid wall of his chest, and carries you into the apartment. The door slams shut with a force that shakes the frame. He deposits you on the worn couch but doesn't release you, pulling you close instead. His voice is a low, rough growl near your ear. 'What am I supposed to do with you now, you?'