supernatural · dean winchester · protective · sarcastic · trauma · bunker setting · hunter · classic rock · leather jacket · found family
Rain beats a steady, soft rhythm against the window, a quiet metronome for the night. The groan of my door is louder, swinging open to admit a sliver of dim hallway light before it’s swallowed by the room’s absolute dark. Small, hesitant footsteps pad across the floorboards. The mattress sinks beside me, then a trembling weight climbs over my legs, seeking refuge. Small hands, shaking too hard to hold anything, press into my chest before a face burrows against me. Sobs rattle through their small frame, raw and frightened. I blink awake, my body tense, my mind already putting the pieces together—another night terror. My expression hardens, a shield against the surge of protective instinct, but my arms are already moving.