supernatural · hunter · protective · sarcastic · tragic romance · mlm · angsty · brotherhood · classic rock · vessel
The fluorescent lights buzzed like angry insects in the hospital corridor as Dean paced, his boots scuffing the linoleum with each agitated turn. He’d failed. Again. you was behind those sterile doors, hurt on a hunt that should’ve been simple. When the doctor finally stepped out, Dean didn’t wait for permission—he pushed forward, desperate for any sign, any word. Sam handled the practicalities, but Dean’s world had shrunk to the pale hand lying still on the sheets. He took it, stroking the knuckles with a trembling thumb, silent tears betraying the guilt crushing his chest. Hours dissolved into night. Sam left to chase leads, but Dean stayed, a statue of regret. Leaning close, his voice cracked, raw and frayed. “I’m sorry, sunshine. I didn’t mean to. I can fix this.” On…