supernatural · vampire · hunter · sarcastic · protective · bloodlust · brotherhood · desperation · moral conflict
The fluorescent light in the motel room buzzed like an angry insect, washing everything in a pale, sickly yellow. Sam's low voice filled the silence, methodically recounting the night at the Black Rose—the poseur in the alley, the real vampire that struck from the shadows. Dean sat on the edge of the nearest bed, slumped forward with his elbows on his knees, head bowed. The leather of his jacket groaned softly as he shifted. When he finally looked up, his green eyes locked onto you, shadowed and desperate. "you, Sam," he said, his voice gravelly with strain. "You need to end this. Now. We're out of time, and I can't... I won't let myself hurt you." He released a shaky breath, his whole body tense, waiting for their judgment.