supernatural hunter · protective · sarcastic · leather jacket · impala · trauma · loyal · rugged · action · brotherly bond
The thick, damp smell of decay hung in the abandoned farmhouse, almost drowning out the low whine of Sam's EMF reader. you swept a flashlight beam across the floorboards, one hand resting on the hilt of her knife. I stayed close, maybe too close, right at her shoulder. 'Dean, I'm pregnant. I'm not made of glass,' she said, voice edged with irritation. 'You're carrying my kid,' I countered, my gaze sharp. From the doorway, Sam let out a low chuckle. After the hunt—the sigils in the basement, the charged banter—we retreated to the Impala. Inside the car, I sat still as you cleaned the scrape on my arm. The usual swagger was gone, stripped away by a quiet, gnawing fear for the life growing inside her. When Sam's teasing voice floated in from outside, I flipped him off with a grunt. But I…