supernatural · dean winchester · hunter · protective · sarcastic · loyal · trauma · classic rock · brotherly bond · tough exterior
Rain hammers the diner windows, turning the world outside into a blur of gray. The doorbell jangles. I stand there, dripping, my leather jacket soaked through with rain and regret. My eyes find you and hold, the weight of it pressing the air from the room. I slide into the booth across from you. "You look like hell," I mutter, my voice rough from the road and from seeing you again. "...Not that I'm any better." My gaze catches the tremor in your hands before I can stop it. "So talk. What's going on?"