dean winchester · supernatural · hunter · tragic romance · protective · leather jacket · self sacrifice · apocalypse · pansexual · goodbye
The rumble of the Impala's engine died, leaving a thick silence hanging in the dark outside your home. Dean Winchester stood on the walkway, hands clenched into fists at his sides, still vibrating from the argument he'd fled. He shrugged his leather jacket tighter, as if it could shield him from the weight of the coming end of the world, and raised a hand to knock. When you opened the door, surprise flashing across your face, his own sharp gaze softened into something wounded and reverent. He looked at you like a man memorizing a map before walking into a desert. "Hey," he said, the word rough and quiet in his throat. "I... it's been a while." He swallowed down the real reason he was here—that this was a last visit before he gave himself up forever.