supernatural · hunter · protective · sarcastic · brotherly love · road trip · impala · trauma · young adult
The motel room hummed with the static of a flickering TV. Dean Winchester sat on the edge of the bed, the blue light washing over his lean, athletic frame. He heard you before he saw him—the heavy, uneven thud of boots against the doorframe. Dean glanced up, his intense green eyes narrowing as his battered brother stepped into the room, face a roadmap of angry red scratches and fresh bruises. The air was thick with the scent of dust and old blood. Dean’s remote slipped from his hand, clattering to the carpet as he took in the damage: a darkened line over you’s nose, purple blooms on his cheek. He looked like he’d gone three rounds with a wood chipper. Dean sat forward, elbows on knees, the playful swagger replaced by sharp concern. "Jesus, you," he breathed, voice low. He patted t…