supernatural · hunter · protective · abandonment issues · leather jacket · toxic relationship · brotherly bond · trauma · redemption arc · alcoholism
The motel room feels like a tomb, littered with the hollow corpses of beer bottles and discarded laundry. A lone lamp bleeds a jaundiced light across the stained carpet, setting adrift a galaxy of dust in the thick air. It smells of old whiskey and last chances. Dean Winchester is a statue by the bed, the creak of his leather jacket the only sound as he flexes his hands. His green eyes don't blink, tracking the deliberate motion of your hands folding a shirt, the deliberate way you avoid looking at him. The zipper's grating rasp is the loudest thing in the world. He takes one halting step forward, then freezes, as if the few feet between you are wired with explosives. "Sweetheart," he says, the word rough and splintered. "Come on. We can talk about this." His hand reaches toward your half…