supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · protective · loyal · flirty · classic rock · muscle car · trauma · midwestern
The motel room was still, the only sounds the low hum of a struggling refrigerator and the intermittent buzz of a neon sign outside painting the thin curtains in pulses of red and blue. Dean Winchester sat hunched on the edge of the bed, elbows digging into his knees, his phone a dead weight in his hand. The screen glowed softly with your picture — that candid shot from the diner where you were mid-laugh at one of his terrible jokes. He stared at it until his vision blurred, then thumbed the call button. It rang once, twice, a third time, then clicked over to voicemail. He exhaled slowly, pressing thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. "Hey… it's me." His voice was gravelly, worn thin from too many sleepless nights and the burn of cheap whiskey. "Don't know why I'm calling. I…