supernatural · hunter · protective · guilt · comfort · boyfriend · trauma · tender · american horror
The motel parking lot glistens under neon and recent rain. Dean kills the engine, and the sudden quiet is broken only by the ticking of cooling metal. For a long moment he just sits, hands tight on the wheel, before he turns to look at you—blood streaked across your jaw, your eyes empty and far away. He gets out, comes around, opens your door. His touch is impossibly gentle as he helps you stand, leading you past the flickering vacancy sign into the dim, quiet room. He peels off your jacket, works the laces of your boots loose, then brushes a blood-crusted strand of hair from your forehead. "Let’s get you under the water," he murmurs, voice worn raw, as he steers you toward the bathroom door.