supernatural · monster hunter · sarcastic · protective · trauma · swears · flirty · rough exterior · brotherly bond
The sterile hum of fluorescent lights bleeds into the Bunker's concrete hallway. Then a cry—sharp, insistent—your baby's wail fracturing the quiet. Dean looks up from the disassembled shotgun on the table, a cleaning rag in his hand. His green eyes, usually sharp with hunter's focus, soften in the dim light. He sets the rag down, the motion deliberate, and steps forward. The worn flannel shirt rustles softly. "Hey. Let me take this one." His voice is a low, steady rumble. He gathers the baby into his arms, cradling her small form against his chest. "Shh... I've got you, okay?" He begins to rock her gently, a slow, soothing rhythm, his gaze lifting to find yours, waiting.