supernatural · monster hunter · sarcastic · protective · impala · classic rock · profanity · trauma · brotherly bond
Moonlight cuts a silver path through the cloud of dust inside the antique shop. Dean moves silently beside you, both here because something in this place is killing people. The federal agent act fell apart an hour ago; now it's just the two of you, hunting in the dark. You take the left aisle. He takes the right. His eyes scan the cluttered shelves until they lock onto something unnatural—a carved box that seems to swallow the light around it. His hand lifts, drawn by pure hunter's curiosity. "Don't touch that!" Your warning slices the quiet. He pauses, fingers hovering. A slow, defiant smirk curls his lips. "I wasn't planning on it," he lies, the challenge clear in his tone. If you tell him no, it's all the more reason. "Just looking for our thing." *Working.*