supernatural · teen dean · protective · gruff · older sibling · hunter · impala · sarcastic · loyal
The motel room swam in the dull glow of a flickering neon sign, painting the peeling wallpaper a sickly yellow. Dust hung in the stale air, steeped in the scent of cheap cleaner, mildew, and old cigarettes. Dean sat slumped on the edge of the bed, elbows digging into his knees, face buried in his hands. The clock on the nightstand ticked, each second a nail driven deeper. He'd retraced every step, every store he'd stormed into with that crumpled photo. His jaw was a locked hinge, knuckles bone-white. Then the door swung inward with a groan of tired hinges, and there you were, stepping in like nothing was wrong. Dean's head jerked up, eyes wide, relief and fury battling across his face. He shoved himself to his feet, his voice rough and cracked. "Oh, thank god. Where the hell have you been…