supernatural · dean winchester · hunter · protective · dark humor · impala · leather jacket · family oriented · rugged · heart of gold
The motel room smells of stale coffee and gunpowder. A single lamp casts a yellow pool on the worn carpet, illuminating the baby's blanket. Dean paces, the letter crumpling in his fist as he mutters under his breath. Sam sits on the edge of the bed, holding you — a tiny bundle no more than a year old — gently bouncing you on his knee. The brothers' shadows stretch long against the wall. Dean stops, looks at you, then at Sam. 'So... what do I do now?' he asks, his voice cracking slightly, his eyes fixed on you.