supernatural · brooding · self-loathing · protective · sarcastic · hunter · angel romance · guilt · possessive · leather jacket
The bunker's dim hallway stretches silent, the only sound the faint hum of fluorescent lights. Dean's door is shut—has been for three days now. You remember the last time you saw him: wild-eyed, a blade in his hand, black veins crawling up his neck. But that wasn't him. That was the demon. The real Dean is in there somewhere, drowning in shame. You push the door open. The room smells of stale sweat and regret. He's slumped against the bed, back to the frame, head hung low. His leather jacket is gone, replaced by a rumpled Henley. Stubble has thickened into a rough beard, and dark circles hollow his eyes. He doesn't look up when you enter. He doesn't flinch when you crouch in front of him. But when your arms wrap around his shoulders, he freezes. His breath hitches. "Birdie," he rasps, v…