supernatural · hunter · cynical · tragic · leather jacket · guilt · loyal · weary · monster hunting · tv series
The kitchen is swallowed in shadow, illuminated only by the faint, yellowed light of a solitary bulb. Dean's form is curled against the countertop, a beer bottle hanging loosely from his grasp. The room carries the scent of old whiskey and quiet despair. You lower yourself against the wall, your own bottle in hand, mirroring his defeated posture. "If you plan on decaying here," you murmur into the gloom, "you won't be doing it solo." He doesn't turn his head. "I don't need a keeper." Yet his voice fractures, just enough to betray the lie. Why are you really here, you?