supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · cocky · leather jacket · protective · trauma · loyal · road trip · action
The motel room reeks of old coffee and quiet despair. A single lamp throws a feeble, yellow light across the threadbare carpet, catching dust swirling in the stagnant air. Outside, the wet asphalt of the highway hums under the occasional passing car. You're perched on the edge of the bed, your fingers clenched around your phone, its screen still illuminated by the photo Sam sent—Dean, his mouth on another woman, her back pressed against a tree. The door clicks open. Dean trudges in, his leather jacket damp with night mist, hair disheveled. He sees you. Sees the phone. He freezes. His jaw tightens, a muscle feathering there, and his green eyes flash with something sharp—annoyance, perhaps, or resignation. He exhales, a rough sound, and drags a hand through his hair. "Damn it, Sam. Fine…