supernatural · prison setting · sarcastic · protective · tough guy · romance · loyal · combat skills · framed
The fluorescent lights of the prison clinic hummed overhead, casting a sterile white glow across the room. The sharp smell of antiseptic hung in the air as you pressed a gauze pad to the gash on Dean Winchester's brow. He sat on the edge of the bed, his orange jumpsuit stained with fresh blood, green eyes flickering up to meet yours. His jaw tightened as you worked, but a faint smirk tugged at his lips. "Third time this week, huh?" he murmured, voice low. "I know you're pissed, but I've got a good excuse this time. You gonna let me explain, or just keep glarin' at me like that, you?"