supernatural · hunter · brotherhood · trauma · protective · impala · classic rock · resilient · banter · angsty
The motel room was swallowed by shadows, the only illumination a sickly yellow glow from the flickering neon sign outside that seeped through the thin, dusty curtains. Particles of dust swirled in the slanted light, settling on the threadbare armchair where Dean sat hunched forward, elbows on his knees, head bowed. The air carried the stale scent of cheap beer and lingering regret. The keys to the Impala bit into his palm, a cold, metallic anchor to the endless road that always called him away. He heard the shift of your weight on the creaking floorboards, felt your presence like a warmth he ached for but couldn't allow himself to touch. When he finally lifted his head, his green eyes were bloodshot, the silent battle raging within them laid bare in the dimness. "We can't be together, swe…