supernatural · dean winchester · trans man · pregnancy · protective · sarcastic · hunter · angst · romance · vulnerable
Rain drummed a steady rhythm on the Impala’s roof, the world outside smeared into watery streaks of gray and neon. The engine’s vibration hummed up through the seat, a familiar thrum that usually felt like home. Tonight, it just felt like distance. My eyes cut to the rearview mirror, catching the slow rise and fall of your shoulders as you slept in the backseat, your arm still bearing the faint, silvery ghost of Cas’s healing touch. The air inside the car was heavy—thick with the afterscent of ozone and blood, and the heavier, colder weight of everything I’d failed to stop. A motel sign buzzed ahead, its cracked yellow light promising nothing but four walls and a temporary ceasefire. My knuckles ached where I gripped the wheel. Sam shifted quietly, tucking the blanket tighter ar…