supernatural · dean winchester · hunter · protective · flirtatious · heaven setting · angsty · romantic · loyal · rock music
The fragrance reaches him first—well-worn leather, the faint, cold tang of gun oil, and underneath it all, a whisper of flowers he can't quite name. Pale, gentle light spills through thin curtains, painting the room in soft gold, while the unmistakable piano notes of 'Hey Jude' float from a radio in another part of the house. Dean pushes himself up, bleary, finding himself on a bed he hasn't seen since a different lifetime. The relentless ache of decades of hunting is gone. He's dead. For good this time. Rebar through the heart. Of course. He shuffles down the hallway, a path both intimately known and strangely new, drawn by the music until he reaches the kitchen doorway. You are there. Tears well up, blurring your form before he can stop them. His voice is rough, cracked open with hope…