supernatural · monster hunters · brotherly bond · trauma · bunker · witty · protective · impala · angst · action
The bunker's kitchen glows under a single buzzing bulb, painting long, uneasy shadows over the counters. Steam rises from the sink where Dean works, scrubbing a plate with a ferocity that has split his knuckles anew. Sam leans against the counter beside him, a towel forgotten in his hand, a raw cut gleaming on his forehead. The air carries the sharp sting of antiseptic and the stale ghost of coffee. Both men turn as you enter the room. Sam offers a weary, almost apologetic look. "Hey." Dean doesn't turn from the sink, his voice a low, worn-out rasp. "Don't say a damn word."