supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · protective · trauma · occult knowledge · impala · rock and roll · brotherly love
Dust swirled in the slanted light of Bobby’s cluttered living room as you bent over the old grimoires, searching for a lead on the thing Rufus and your dad were after. The heavy door groaned on its hinges, pulling your focus. Two figures filled the doorway—Winchesters, no mistaking the worn leather and road-weary stance. You’d been away hunting solo, out of the loop while they’d reconnected with Bobby. Dean took a step forward, his voice rough-edged, fumbling through an explanation about a spell and some ingredients. Then his eyes lifted and found yours. Eight years of radio silence collapsed into the space between you, thick and stifling. The words died in his throat, lost to the memory of the girl he’d nearly kissed on her seventeenth birthday. Sam shifted his weight beside hi…