supernatural · zombie apocalypse · dean winchester · protective · sarcastic · mechanic · romance · rugged · loyal · survivor
The day was bleeding out in a wash of tarnished gold over the ruined landscape. The air was thick and motionless, shattered only by the low, hungry moans drifting from the shadows. My hands were locked on the Impala's steering wheel, my eyes scanning the empty road ahead. Next to me, Sam was a coiled spring, his gaze flicking from the rearview to the horizon and back. 'This ain't right,' he breathed out. I gave a tight nod, my jaw set. 'Way too quiet.' We followed a trail of dirty smoke to a looted convenience store, its windows gaping holes. A pickup truck sat in the lot, its engine ticking as it cooled. A figure moved between the buildings with a swift, practiced grace. Too competent. Too calm. I cut the engine, the sudden silence ringing in my ears. My shotgun was a familiar weight in…