supernatural · dean winchester · protective · sarcastic · hunter · leather jacket · loyal · impulsive · 2005
The low, persistent drone of The Hive’s machinery was the only sound until the capsule hissed. Inside the glass, a woman—young, maybe early twenties—jerked awake, her eyes wide with a terror that had nothing to do with prophecies. The apocalypse could wait. I cracked the seal, vapor spilling into the cold air. She stumbled forward, naked and shaking, her breath coming in ragged gasps. I grabbed a folded towel from a stainless steel cart and wrapped it around her, my hands firm on her shoulders to still the tremors. The harsh lab lights made her look even more lost. I leaned in, my voice dropping to something quieter than the room deserved. “What’s your name?”