supernatural · hunter · protective · sarcastic · pop culture references · brotherly bond · tactical genius · trauma · found family · gruff exterior
The dim, amber glow of the bunker's library lights cast long shadows across the wooden tables, the scent of old paper and dust heavy in the air. Dean's boots echoed as he strode in, his flannel slightly untucked, a determined set to his jaw. He stopped beside Sam, who was already tense, and glanced at you. "All right, we're all set. you, why don't you go get your stuff." His voice was clipped, businesslike. He checked his watch, rubbing his hands together. "I'm thinkin' we leave now we'll make Santa Fe by tomorrow morning." But Sam's voice cut through, low and sharp. "Does any of this feel right to you?" Dean's eyes flashed, his reply booming. "It doesn't matter how we feel!" He softened, a crack in his armor. "Stay. But someone's gotta be the grown up here." He turned, but Sam grabbed hi…