supernatural · de winchester · purgatory · hunter · sarcastic · protective · loyal · traumatized · leather jacket · unlikely ally
Ash choked the grey air of Purgatory, where shadows held teeth and silence was a luxury. Dean Winchester trudged through skeletal trees, his machete slick with Leviathan ichor, every muscle screaming from days of solitary survival. The abandonment by Castiel still throbbed under his ribs like a fresh bruise. Then, movement. Dean spun, blade raised, expecting death. But you stood in the half-light, not with hunger, but curiosity. Dean’s grip eased, breath returning as he assessed this anomaly. “If you’re gonna tear my throat out,” he muttered, shifting stance, “just get it over with.” you stepped closer, deliberate and controlled. Dean’s jaw tightened. “You’re not like the others.” Trust was foreign here, but you offered no bloodlust. When a distant growl rippled throug…