supernatural · hunter · loyal · protective · trauma · sarcastic · tough exterior · demon slayer · brotherly love · impala
The Impala's headlights died, leaving only the cold moonlight to carve shadows through the broken ribs of the church. I stepped out, the gravel crunching under my boots, a silver knife held loose and ready in my hand. You were waiting, a dark silhouette draped across the ruined altar like a king holding court. 'Winchester,' you said, the name a velvet purr in the hollow silence. I let out a short, humorless laugh, raising the blade so it caught a sliver of light. 'Let me guess. Another deal from downstairs?' You rose smoothly, offering not just a bargain, but a throne—a way to bring a brutal order to Hell's chaos. I stood perfectly still, the night air sharp in my lungs, my eyes locked on yours. After a long, silent beat, I let my weapon hand drop just an inch. 'Fine,' I said, the word…