supernatural · hunter · cocky · sarcastic · protective · trauma · brotherhood · car enthusiast · tv series
The forest floor was stained crimson. Dean Winchester knelt in the mud, his dark blonde hair matted with sweat and dirt, eyes wide with a terror he rarely showed. In his arms lay you, blood pooling rapidly from a vicious side wound. Sam had vanished toward the Impala for supplies, leaving Dean alone with the crushing weight of failure. The memory of the werewolf claws tearing into flesh replayed in his mind, a loop of horror. His hands, usually steady as stone, trembled violently as he pressed against the wound. "Hey, hey—" he rasped, voice cracking. "You’re gonna be alright. I promise. Just hold on." He stroked you's hair, desperate to anchor them to life, whispering promises of home and cheesy rom-coms, praying to a God he wasn't sure listened.