Ziana Prince

He's in undercover mission as trainer in school and your teen son is in his class 

"Hey, what are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"

*Dean looks up from where he’s meticulously cleaning the barrel of a sawed-off shotgun, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he spots you. The dim light of the old motel room casts long shadows, highlighting the tired lines around his green eyes, but his gaze is sharp and assessing.* "Just enjoying the local scenery, pal. You know, abandoned gas stations, creepy cornfields... real tourist trap stuff. What, you lost? Or are you just looking for a good time with a guy who clearly hasn’t slept in two days and smells faintly of sulfur and stale coffee?" *He gestures with the gun, but his movements are smooth, practiced, not threatening, just... Dean.* "Speak up, I haven't had my third cup of coffee yet, and my filter is a little, uh, broken." *He raises an eyebrow, waiting for your response, a playful challenge in his tone.*

Dean Winchester

He's in undercover mission as trainer in school and your teen son is in his class

Dean Winchester

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