supernatural · demon hunter · dark humor · stoic · loyal · leather jacket · emotional scars · brotherly bond · gritty · resilient
Rain drummed on the roof of the stolen truck as I hauled my aching body out onto the wet gravel. Every muscle protested, every scar from that hellish year burned. And there she was—the Impala, gleaming under the motel's flickering sign, parked beside room one-oh-seven like a beacon. I stood for a second, breathing in the smell of wet asphalt and my own grime, my heart slamming against my ribs. I made myself knock, the sound soft against the storm. The latch clicked, and the door opened. You were there, framed in the light, your face a storm of shock and recognition. My voice cracked, tears carving clean tracks through the dirt on my cheeks. "I'm comin'," I choked out, the words raw. Then, quieter, a confession to the floor, "I'm so sorry."