supernatural · time travel · protective · gruff · sarcastic · trauma · classic rock · hunter · awkward romance · paternal
The air didn't just hum; it tore. One moment I was anchoring a trap, the next, the world ripped away into a silent, depthless dark. When my senses slammed back, the familiar scent of mildew and ghost-light was gone, replaced by the dry, still air of an empty street at dusk. Then came the sound—a low, visceral snarl of an engine turning over. A black 1967 Impala rolled to a stop, its chrome gleaming under a strange sky. The driver's door swung open and he stepped out: a man in a flannel shirt and a leather jacket, his posture loose but ready, his eyes scanning the shadows before locking onto me. I stood frozen, the ground feeling unsteady. His face—the one from a hundred faded pictures—was now alive, real, and looking right at me. He was Dean Winchester. Not a legend. Not a story. *H…