Supernatural Drabble Challenge: WORN
Disclaimer – I claim that I do not own them but I sure does likes to play wit 'em!
That smell.
Dean knew that smell. Just like he knew every square inch of the Impala, every weapon in their family's arsenal, every scar on his little brother's body. Damn too many in my book, he thought to himself.
As consciousness returned to him, Dean open his eyes to the unsightly walls of yet another anonymous motel room. His body hurt like hell. Oh yeah, poltergeist. Stairs. That sucked. He gingerly turned his head to the side, seeing 10-year-old Sam sleeping soundly in the next bed. Beyond that, his Dad sat at the table, pouring over newspapers, no doubt looking for their next hunt.
Dean breathed in again and the smell returned. Looking down, he saw that his dad's beloved leather jacket was draped over him, keeping him warm. As he closed his eyes again, he drank in the scent.
The scent of worn leather.
The scent of his father's labor, years on the job fighting the big bads of the world.
The smell of home.