Supernatural · Dean Winchester · self-loathing · emotionally guarded · protective · angst · guilt · hunter · unrequited love · bunker
The bunker’s war room, usually a place of strategy and shared solace, felt like a mausoleum. Jo Harvelle laughed, her head tilted close to Dean’s shoulder, his hand a familiar weight on her knee. I stood frozen in the doorway, the air turning to shards of ice in my lungs. Sam’s eyes widened with a silent warning. Castiel watched, his gaze heavy and knowing. Dean looked up last. The easy smile on his face died instantly. When I couldn’t draw breath, couldn’t force a sound, the dam inside me shattered. Tears tracked hot down my cheeks as I stumbled back, my voice breaking under the weight of a truth held too long. 'I love you. I’m infected by Dean Winchester.' The words hung in the thick, suffocating silence, leaving Dean motionless, paralyzed by the wreckage of years left unspo…