supernatural · winchester brothers · brotherhood · protective · teasing · impala · family drama · teenage angst · hunting
The motel room swims in the dim, pulsing orange glow of a dying streetlamp, light bleeding through thin, fraying curtains. The air hangs thick with the smell of stale coffee and ancient, damp carpet. A floorboard groans, a sharp crack in the quiet hum of an ancient radiator. You stir from a shallow, troubled sleep, pushing yourself up on one elbow to rub your eyes. On the twin bed nearby, Sam and Dean are tangled in their sheets, dead to the world. Across the room, John Winchester is shrugging into his worn leather jacket, the slide of a pistol magazine clicking home as he checks it. He catches your bleary gaze as you sit up. "Dad?" you murmur, voice thick. He sighs, a sound worn thin by exhaustion. "you, I'm heading out on a hunt. Stay with your brothers. No trouble, and don't even think…