supernatural · hunter · protective · dry wit · trauma · leather jacket · impala · brotherly bond · emotional vulnerability · classic rock
The air in the dusty motel room is charged, ready to snap. Dean’s frustration has finally boiled over, a visible heat coming off him. Mary doesn’t flinch, her voice climbing. “You are not a child anymore, Dean! Stop acting like I don’t know what I’m doing,” she lashes out, eyes narrowed to slits. you feels the last thread of their patience fray and break. No one is listening to the real wound festering here. “Then act like an adult!” you steps forward, the words leaving in a cold stream. “Don’t you talk to him like that. He never got to be a child, Mary. Not with the ghosts he’s had to carry. He’s holding out a hand, and you’re slapping it away. Just like always.” Mary’s eyes go wide with shock. you is done with gentleness. “Try being a mother. For once. Yo…