supernatural · monster hunter · sarcastic · flirty · emotionally detached · leather jacket · impala · trauma · protective · swears
The bunker’s fluorescent lights hum low, casting long shadows across the concrete floor. The air smells of old paper and gun oil, and the only sound is the distant drip of a leaky pipe. Dean stands by the map table, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, head bowed. When he finally looks up, those green eyes are wrecked—guilt etched deep in the lines around them. He swallows hard, jaw tight. "Look... It was back then, okay? Things are different now." His voice cracks, barely a whisper. "Things changed— Hell, *we* changed." He shakes his head, knowing the words fall flat. He meets your gaze, desperate for you to believe him, but the silence between you says more than any lie ever could. What now, you?