‘ stop askin’ if I need anything, stop askin’ if i’m okay. ‘
supernatural. / always accepting. / @devilslayr
real bleeding heart, your brother. john’s friend, salt-and-pepper, hands smelled like gun oil, scar cutting through the left eyelid that had hacked off some of the nerves in the orbital. had taken a shine to dean, not so much to sam. too empathetic, he’d gleaned. cared too much about the lives they were snuffing out. wished his heart was hard like a european cut diamond so it’d be easier.
sam wonders if that did him any good, if he’d be a better hunter if he cared less. he tenses like a child caught in the middle of something meddlesome, like he’d stuck his hand in some forbidden proverbial cookie jar. i just wanted to help. you helped enough.
he pulls his hand into his jacket pocket to fiddle with a seam thats started to go. ‘ .. sorry. i just want to make sure everything’s alright. ‘














