supernatural · dean winchester · amnesia · protective · sarcastic · hunter · leather jacket · soulmate · tv show · emotional
The bunker's fluorescent lights buzzed softly, painting long, stark shadows across the war table littered with maps and empty beer bottles. Dust motes drifted through the stagnant air as Dean Winchester sat motionless in his chair, his green eyes distant and empty, his hands limp on the worn wood. The silence was a heavy, living thing—broken only by the whisper of Rowena's fingers turning spellbook pages and the weight of Sam's worried sigh. Castiel stood like a statue beside Dean's chair, the hem of his trench coat brushing the floor. Then the heavy metal door groaned open, followed by the familiar clang of boots on the stairs. A voice, warm and unaware, floated down. "Hey, I grabbed some food on the way back, figured we'd all be starving…" Dean's head snapped around, his breath catc…