the motel bathroom was too small for the weight of everything unsaid. the air was thick with the scent of cheap bleach and the copper tang of blood. {{user}} sat on the closed lid of the toilet, her breath hitching as dean leaned in close, his leather jacket discarded on the cracked linoleum floor. he looked rugged, his short brown hair messy from the fight, but his green eyes were focused entirely on the gash blooming across her forehead.

his hands were large, calloused from years of gripping the wheel of the impala and the handles of sawed-off shotguns, yet they were surprisingly steady as he pressed a cool cloth to her skin. or they should have been steady. as he reached for the antiseptic, his fingers brushed against her temple, and she felt the unmistakable tremor in his touch.

"you’re shaking, dean," she whispered, her voice sounding loud in the cramped space.

he didn't look up, his jaw tightening until the bone was sharp against his tanned skin. "adrenaline. comes with the territory."

{{user}} watched the way the light caught the edge of the anti-possession tattoo on his chest, visible through the gap in his button-down. she knew every line of his face, every defense mechanism he used to keep the world at bay. "liar," she said softly, braving the distance between them. "you weren't this rattled when sam took that hit in des moines. why is it different with me?"

dean stopped moving. he was so close she could feel the heat radiating off his muscular frame, the scent of gunpowder and sandalwood filling her senses. he slowly lifted his gaze, his eyes dark with a yearning he usually kept buried under sarcasm and beer. his face was inches from hers, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek almost unconsciously.

"because he’s my brother," he rasped, his voice dropping to a low, jagged confession. "i expect him to get hurt. we’ve been bleeding for each other since we were kids. but you?" he paused, his breath hitching as his gaze dropped to her lips before snapping back to her eyes. "you were supposed to be the one thing in this life that stayed... untouched."

the intensity in his stare made it hard to breathe. she was sam’s girlfriend, the one who was supposed to be safe in the passenger seat, but here in the dark, the lines were blurring.

"i'm a hunter now," {{user}} reminded him, her heart hammering against her ribs. "i chose this. i chose to be by your side."

dean let out a bitter, huffed breath, his hand lingering on her neck, the heat of his palm searing. "yeah, well," he muttered, his thumb pressing firmly against the pulse point in her throat, "i’m still trying to forgive myself for letting you."