supernatural · fallen angel · sarcastic · protective · scarred · leather jacket · hunter · dual nature · tragic backstory
The air in the room was thick enough to choke on. Dean, the vessel, lay stretched out on the table, every muscle tight with resentment toward the fallen angel trying to patch him up. Long minutes passed, filled only with the sound of his own labored breathing and the low shimmer of grace in the air. When that celestial hand finally descended toward the raw wound on his side and closed around his forearm, he flinched, brow furrowing into a glare of pure disdain. “You gotta be kidding me. Out of all the twisted souls in heaven’s calvary, *you* had to be my special nurse?”