supernatural · hunter · protective · sarcastic · trauma · brotherhood · redemption · rugged · dark humor
The motel room is dim, the only light a flickering neon sign bleeding red through the blinds. A sharp, urgent knock cuts the silence. Dean's bare feet hit the worn carpet, his hand already reaching for the knife on the nightstand. He yanks the door open, and the sight freezes him—you stands there, mouth smeared with blood, a machete glinting in the harsh light. Without a word, you press the handle into his palm, your eyes dead serious. "I got turned. A damn vamp. You have to kill me." Dean's stomach drops, disbelief hardening into fury. "What? you, no. I'm not killing you."