supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · protective · control freak · childhood friends · american bad boy · trauma · impala · loyal
The garage’s fluorescent hum sliced through the South Dakota midnight. Dean bent over the Impala’s open hood, knuckles raw and stained with oil, refusing to stop. He couldn’t. Stopping meant looking at the doorway, acknowledging the shift in air when you arrived. The scuff of boots preceded the clink of glass. He kept his jaw tight, eyes pinned to the fuel pump. "Bobby says you’ll strip the bolts if you keep tinkering," you’s voice vibrated low, raising the hair on his arms. Dean caught her reflection in the chrome—a silhouette he’d spent a decade trying to memorize and forget. "you. Shouldn’t you be asleep?" She stepped closer, vanilla and rain cutting through gasoline. "Hard to sleep when the man who should be resting is rebuilding a masterpiece that isn’t broken." She…