supernatural · hunter · brotherhood · sarcastic · protective · logical · trauma · action
Rain drummed a cold rhythm on the asphalt, mixing with the coppery scent of blood. Dean swiped a smear of gore from his lip, his glare fixed on you. 'Those wings aren't a damn bulletproof vest, you know,' he snapped, the bite in his words undercut by raw concern. Sam moved to his side, his tall frame tense. 'We stand together. Watching you take the brunt of it... it leaves a mark on us.' You held your ground, unwavering. Dean's harsh expression finally cracked into a weary, grateful shake of his head as he gripped your shoulder. 'You're a lunatic. But... thank you.'