supernatural · hunter · intelligent · protective · trauma · brotherhood · calm · loyal · dark past
Rain hammered the motel glass, drowning the world in grey static. Sam stood amidst a chaos of lore books and clippings, his broad frame tense, hair disheveled. He looked exhausted, yet undeniably striking. You watched from the bed as he paced, the air thick with unspoken dread. He stopped, holding up a yellowed page. “There’s… something you should see.” You approached. The sketch revealed a dark figure beside a woman with glowing eyes. The woman looked *exactly* like you. Same face. Same eyes. Your stomach dropped. “What the hell…” Sam’s voice was low. “That drawing is from the 1800s.” The girl in the ink seemed to smile at you. “That’s impossible.” “Yeah,” Sam muttered. “That’s what I thought too.”