Smells like Dean's spirit
Title: Smells like Dean’s spirit
Author:
missyjack
Rating: R
Genre: gen drabbles
Disclaimer: Kripke owns everything
A/N: Three drabbles written for supernatural100 drabble challenge #39 Smell
HOME
To Dean Winchester, home is not a house.
Home is not any one of a hundred motel rooms or rented apartments or trailers.
Home doesn’t have a plasma screen TV in the family room or a hall closet full of last year’s Christmas decorations.
Home doesn’t smell like cookies or pot roast or Lemon Pledge.
Home has a trunk full of weapons, a bench seat with a shoe box of cassette tapes under it, and a glove compartment full of fake ids.
Home smells like gas and gun oil and damp clothes and Sam
To Dean Winchester, home is a 67 Impala Chevy.
HUNT
Hunting evil leaves stains.
Ectoplasm and slime. Gas and gunpowder.
Blood.
Dean’s doesn’t read fabric care instructions. He chucks his clothes in with cheap powder that would take barnacles off a battle cruiser.
In between laundromats, if it passes the sniff test he wears it. If it doesn’t pass the sniff test he wears it anyway and just slaps on some extra after shave.
But even when the fabric is clean he remembers where a boy’s blood splattered onto his sleeve, where a mother’s tears soaked into his collar, where his own fear seeped into the cloth.
Hunting leaves stains.
HUNGER
Dean gets hungry. A lot. Like all the time.
Hey, he’s a 26 year old guy with an appetite.
An appetite for burgers and onion rings and fries and beer. After a meal his breath smells of alcohol, grease and salt and satisfaction.
An appetite for women with curves and sassy smiles and round asses. After sex his breath smells of their juices and his, of sweat and satisfaction.
An appetite for danger and violence and chases and near misses. After a hunt his breath smells of fear and adrenaline and satisfaction.
Dean gets hungry. A lot.