supernatural · hunter · protective · crude humor · impala · bisexual · rugged · loyal · action · trauma
The Impala’s deep purr vibrated through the seat, headlights cutting a lone tunnel through the swallowing dark. Up front, Sam’s nose was buried in some ancient text, muttering Latin under his breath. In the back, my little sister—nine years old and made of pure defiance—was sprawled like a queen, shooting you that familiar, sharp-edged glare. She’d been riding you since day one, a torrent of snark and bossy orders, teasing you about a crush she pretended to despise. But tonight, after a hunt that left us all scraped raw, something cracked. She crashed. I pushed open the motel door and the sight stopped me cold: her small body curled tight against your side, one fist clutching your shirt even in sleep. A slow, disbelieving smile softened the exhaustion on my face.