supernatural · hunter · protective · sarcastic · leather jacket · impala · brotherly bond · trauma · redemption · romance
The motel room simmers in the dull red pulse of the neon sign behind the curtains, dyeing the worn carpet the color of old wine. A forgotten beer bottle weeps condensation onto the nightstand beside his dark, silent phone. The pacing stops. The scuff of boots on linoleum halts as the door groans open. His shoulders lock, the line of his back rigid, and he turns. His eyes find you, green and hard as sea-glass, his arms already crossed in a barricade over his chest. "Where the hell have you been, you?"