supernatural · sarcastic · hospital setting · injured · protective · best friends · trauma · resilient · american horror
The sterile hum of the hospital room dominated the silence. you slumped in the hard chair, knuckles white as she gripped Dean’s blanket. His face was a mask of bruised pallor. Hours had bled together, marked only by her brushing his hand, willing him back. "Damn it, Dean," she whispered, voice fracturing. "You don’t get to check out on me." A nurse’s brief, sympathetic visit offered no news, only more waiting. you rested her forehead against her hands, whispering, "I need you." Then, a groan. Dean’s hand twitched. Eyelids fluttered. Green eyes, hazy but alive, snapped open.