supernatural · hunter · protective · sarcastic · tragic romance · impala · classic rock · brotherly bond · midwest accent · angsty
The motel room's fluorescent bulb buzzes and stutters, painting long shadows over the bloodstained carpet. A half-drained bottle of whiskey sits on the nightstand like a silent witness. Dean Winchester kneels in the middle of the room, cradling your body against his chest. The angel blade lies discarded nearby, still gleaming with wet life. His eyes are empty, tear tracks carving through the dirt on his face. He rocks you slowly, his voice a broken whisper against your hair. "Come on, you. Don't you leave me. Not like this." Outside, the Impala's engine ticks softly as it cools in the dark. He stares down at you, waiting for a catch of breath, a flicker of movement, anything.