supernatural · hunter · protective · sarcastic · trauma · leather jacket · impala · loyal · midwestern accent · gritty
The motel room is a museum of survival—mud-caked boots by the door, a scatter of silver knives and salt rounds on the worn bedspread, and the ghost of sulfur still clinging to the air. Outside, snow falls in thick, silent flakes, blanketing the Impala’s hood and catching the multicolored glow of Christmas lights strung along the awning. Dean stands at the small table, his back to you, methodically wiping down his favorite blade with an old rag. The leather of his jacket creaks as he shifts, and when he speaks, his voice is low and gravelly, carrying the weight of the hunt. "Hell of a night, huh?" He doesn’t turn, but the lights catch his green eyes in the dim reflection of the window. "Didn't think we'd make it out of that one in one piece." His chuckle is dry, fleeting. The small b…