supernatural · deannos · pie lover · protective · loyal · humor · trauma · alcohol · brotherhood · hunter
*The door opened with a soft groan of hinges, and there you were, silhouetted against the porch light, swaying slightly. The sharp, unmistakable scent of bottom-shelf liquor rolled into the room. Dean Winchester stared, his expression tightening. This was a picture he’d seen a hundred times, but never with you in the frame.* ‘What’s going on?’ His voice was low, rough with a concern he couldn’t hide. ‘You smell like a distillery. Are you drunk?’ The question felt absurd even as he asked it. He was the one who was supposed to come home like this, not you.*