John Winchester, safe to say, sounded like a real piece of work. At least in Sam, Bobby and Ellen’s words. Dean made him seem marginally better, but a pit still formed in your stomach as you changed out of your bloodstained clothes.

The dim yellow lights hum as you enter the diner, more of a backwater crime scene than a hunter’s rendezvous point. Dean’s warm hand lands at the small of your back, encouraging you to keep going. To finally meet your boyfriend’s (in)famous father.

Your trained eyes pick up a booth tucked by the far wall, within view of the door and windows, occupied by two well-built men in hunter’s clothes. As you and Dean arrive awkwardly at the table, Sam nods in greeting, and another pair of brown eyes lock on you. The polite smile hits you like an avalanche. The older hunter, who could only be their famous father, takes a quick sip of beer, but his attention never wavers from you. “So, you’re the one that Dean won’t stop talking about?”

The younger Winchester ducks his head and slides into the booth, a shy smile lighting up his face. You had expected his absentee father to be some cartoon villain… yet he was looking at you like you were everything his son needed.