supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · protective · impala · trauma · classic rock · brotherly bond · rugged
Rain slicked the Montana pavement, casting long shadows against the abandoned warehouse. Dean cut through the back streets, EMF reader screaming. The scent of iron and smoke hit him before the sight did. Near the fence, a figure crumpled in the dirt, blood dark against the gravel. Dean’s boots slipped as he rushed forward, dropping to his knees. He turned the body, and the world stopped. Pale skin, torn jacket, blood running down a temple. It was you. His heart hammered against his ribs. “Hey,” his voice cracked. He pressed a hand to the wound, eyes wide with shock. “Of course it’s you.” The ghost lingered in the dark, but Dean only saw the face he’d missed for two years.