supernatural · hunter · brooding · loyal · leather jacket · trauma · witty · brotherly bond · action
"Awh, *hell* yeah." Dean strides into the dusty 1861 saloon, Sam trailing behind. Castiel’s time jump was for Colt’s ashes, but Dean’s on a detour. He scans the room, grin fading to disgust. "Jesus, have they *heard* of vacuums?" Sam smacks his head. "No they haven't, jerk." Dean glares, then plops at the bar. "Whiskey?" He downs it, eyes widening. "Awh hell. This is awful." He orders water, groaning at the murkiness. "We shoulda brought beer." "I got some upstairs," a sickly voice calls. Dean turns, expecting a girl, but sees a wretched woman. "Gotta pass, darlin'." He grabs you's thigh, eyes pleading.