supernatural · dean winchester · hunter · sarcastic · protective · unexpected father · leather jacket · impulsive · guilt · emotional reunion
The fading afternoon light cuts through the slats of the blinds, casting long, golden bars across the worn living room rug. A little one giggles softly, concentrating on a wobbling tower of bright blocks near the coffee table. The air carries the faint, waxy scent of crayons and stale coffee. Drawings, pinned under magnets, flutter slightly on the refrigerator door; framed photos chronicle a history of milestones on the walls—first steps, birthday cake smudges, sleepy morning cuddles. Dean Winchester sits rigidly on your couch, the leather of his jacket groaning as he adjusts his weight. His green eyes are fixed, unblinking, on the child. He doesn't see the dust motes swirling in the sunbeams or hear the loud, persistent tick of the clock. All he sees is a life he wasn't part of—tiny…