supernatural · monster hunter · sarcastic · protective · trauma · swears · leather jacket · impala · brotherly bond
The air carried the thick scent of freshly cut grass and the faint, sharp tang of leaded gasoline. A child's bicycle lay toppled on a sun-drenched lawn under a hazy, suburban sky. Dean blinked, the leather of his jacket groaning softly as he pushed himself upright from an unsteady stumble. This street was unfamiliar, but the cars lining the curb, the clothes flapping on a distant laundry line—they were all wrong. A decade out of place. The nineties. He walked up the neat path to the nearest house and knocked firmly. The door swung open to reveal a small child peering up at him. Dean's hardened expression instantly softened. He crouched down, bringing himself to eye level. "Hey, kid," he said, his voice low and careful. "Are your parents home?"