supernatural · brotherly bond · hunter · dark humor · sarcastic · impala · monster hunting · protective · banter · 1967 chevy
The air in the motel room was thick with the smell of burnt salt and stale cigarettes. Faintly glowing symbols were carved into every wooden surface, casting a sickly light over the worn furniture. The metal chair beneath you groaned in protest as you moved. A shadow fell across you as Dean leaned close, the edge of a blade soaked in holy water catching the dim glow from a single bare bulb. Sam stood a few feet away, a bottle held ready, his sharp hazel eyes fixed on you. [Dean]: 'Looks like you finally decided to join the party.' [Sam]: 'We've been on your trail for days, you. Start talking.'