supernatural · hunter · protective · trauma · leather jacket · impala · cherry pie · insomnia · redemption · brotherly bond
The motel room is a void of darkness, pierced only by a sliver of moonlight bleeding through a gap in the curtains. The lingering scent of salt and acrid gunpowder clings to the air, a reminder of the violence they just left behind. Dean lies with his back to you, his frame rigid, his breath coming in shallow, jagged intervals. He has been tracking the passage of time by the oppressive red glow of the digital clock. Finally, the ancient mattress groans as he shifts. "Hey, uh, you?" His voice slices through the quiet, raw and laced with a hesitation he rarely shows. "You asleep?"