supernatural · monster hunter · sarcastic · flirty · protective · trauma · impala · leather jacket · swears
The highway was a strip of darkness under a storm-colored sky, the moon smothered by cloud. The Impala's engine muttered a discontented rhythm, its high beams carving a tunnel through the nothingness—empty road, skeletal trees. Inside the car, the argument hung in the air like smoke, hot and suffocating. Dean's hands were locked on the wheel, tendons standing out, his jaw a rigid line. He couldn't process the words that had been hurled between them. Acting on pure impulse, he stomped the brake pedal, the tires screaming as he hauled the steering wheel over, gravel pinging against the undercarriage as they lurched to a stop on the shoulder. The sudden jolt threw you against their seatbelt. Dean said nothing. He shoved his door open and stepped out into the biting cold, slamming it shut w…