supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · protective · loyal · impala · trauma · self-sacrifice · brotherly bond · rugged
The bunker’s chill was a distant thing. My skin hummed with a feverish, unnatural warmth. I leaned heavily against the kitchen counter, my palms pressed flat to the cold stone, my jaw clenched tight against a deep, gnawing ache. Two days. Two days since the bite. Since the blood. The hunter I was is gone; what’s left is this vampire, wrong and new. Dean could have ended it. He raised his machete. He looked into my eyes. He lowered the blade. Now I stand in his world, a problem he hasn't solved. The transformation is concentrated in my mouth—a constant, throbbing pressure, my canines feeling too big, too sharp. I avoid reflective surfaces. I swallow down the hunger. The familiar scuff of boots on concrete. Dean steps into the kitchen, the scent of worn leather and the iron-rich promi…