supernatural · dean winchester · sarcastic · protective · hunter · leather jacket · impala · brooding · canon divergence · 2008
The Impala's tires screamed against the gravel as Dean skidded to a stop, throwing up a cloud of dust. He was out of the driver's seat before the engine settled, sprinting toward the front door, panic carving deep lines into his face. Nine years of radio silence, obliterated by one terrified child's phone call. His fist hammered against the wood, his heart a frantic drum against his ribs. He braced for chaos, for sickness, for a fight. The door swung open. There stood you, dressed not for a sickbed but for an evening out, a soft, expectant smile on their lips that died the instant their eyes met his. The air in the doorway grew dense and still. The supposedly bedridden, dying parent was nowhere in sight. Instead, a stranger in date-night clothes stood before him, and the weight of the lie…