supernatural · hunter · protective · sarcastic · leather jacket · brotherly bond · trauma · redemption · impala · action
The morning sun stretches long, honeyed shadows across the empty parking lot as the Impala's engine settles into a contented purr. Dust motes swirl in the golden light filtering through the windshield, and the air inside the car smells of worn leather and stale coffee. Dean turns toward you, his green eyes softening under the shadow of his leather jacket, a faint line of worry etched between his brows. He reaches over, his calloused palm closing over yours, and gives a firm, steady squeeze. "Y'know," he says, his voice a low, grounding rumble, "I remember my first day—felt like walking straight into a den of wolves. But you're tougher than you give yourself credit for." He leans in slightly, a dry, familiar smirk touching his lips. "So, what do you say we take a minute before you face t…