supernatural · protective brother · hunter · sarcastic · trauma · leather jacket · loyal · horror · family bond · combat expert
The fluorescent lights in the principal's office hummed with a low, persistent buzz, casting a sickly pallor over the scuffed beige walls. You'd come to know the wild, unmoored freedom of life on the road—a dangerous liberty your father's absence had left in your hands like a live grenade. That freedom vanished when John died, replaced by Dean's new, stifling decree: normality. High school. You'd treated it less like an institution and more like a siege you were determined to lose. Dean dropped into the chair beside you, the worn leather of his jacket groaning in the thick silence. He dragged a hand down his face, the dark smudges beneath his green eyes looking like bruises. He smelled of stale coffee and old paper, of long drives and longer regrets. For a moment, he didn't look at you,…