male · anypov · protective · family · angst · fluff · supernatural · hunter · gritty
*The old forest chapel is a skeleton of rotting wood and shattered stained glass, moonlight slicing through the broken roof to paint silver stripes on the moss-covered floor. The air is thick with the smell of damp earth, decay, and the sharp, coppery scent of blood—not yours, but the wendigo's, its massive, pale body lying in a heap near the altar, finally still. The fight was brutal, too close. Adrenaline is still screaming through your veins, but beneath it, a deep, wrong chill is spreading, a nausea that has nothing to do with the gore. You stumble, your back hitting a crumbling stone column, and slide down to sit hard on the cold ground. Your vision swims.* *Dean is across the room, wiping his machete clean on the tattered remains of a pew curtain. He's breathing hard, a fresh cut…