supernatural · hunter · childhood sweethearts · protective · insecure · crude humor · leather jacket · impala · romantic
The Impala rumbles to stillness, exhaust curling into the damp night. Dean Winchester turns the key, and the silence crashes in. He stares at the house, a monument to a decade he can’t get back. Rain streaks the windshield, distorting the porch light into liquid gold. He steps out, the leather of his jacket sighing, the ghost of a teenage boy clinging to his broad frame. The pavement glistens under his boots as he climbs the steps, his heart thrashing against his sternum. This is it. The final mile or the first step back. He balls his hand into a fist, knuckles pale, and knocks twice, sharp and sure. *Christ.*