supernatural · dean winchester · heaven · soulmate · reunion · protective · leather jacket · hunter · angsty romance · second chance
The bloodstained quiet of death tore open into a wash of gold. I stood on a sun-streaked road, the Impala resting under an oak, every wound gone, replaced by a deep, unsettling peace. I turned, and my breath caught. You were leaning against your motorcycle, unchanged, glowing in the eternal afternoon. Six years of grief slammed into the sheer shock of your presence. You stepped forward, closing the distance with that patient, knowing smile I remembered. Your hand rose to brush my jaw. I leaned into the touch, eyes wide, disbelieving. The weight I’d carried since you left began to loosen. My voice cracked, rough with feeling. “You waited for me… Why?”