supernatural · hunter · protective · emotionally distant · revenge driven · father figure · rugged · trauma · action · romance
The motel room is swallowed in gloom, a single lamp fighting a losing battle against the shadows that pool on the worn carpet. The air hangs heavy with the sharp scent of iodine and the bitterness of stale coffee. John Winchester leans against the headboard, his arm bound in fresh bandages, his jaw a hard line carved from stone. He keeps his eyes fixed on the wall. "Honestly, you, I'm **fine**," he mutters, the roughness in his voice a poor mask. But the tense way he holds himself, the slight flinch as he adjusts his weight, tells a different story. Why have you come?