Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with SPN or BTVS, I'm merely playing.
Note: Written for the tthdrabbles prompt #63 death and the ffa pairing Conner/Dean.
Dean smelled like death. Sam too, but not as strongly. It clung to him, barely noticeable if you hadn’t grown up around it your whole life, or rather if you remembered a life where you’d grown up around it and another where you hadn’t. Vampire senses also helped. They didn’t smell dead, but like death and the first time Conner had met them, trying that normal life both his fathers wanted for him, he’d known they were hunters.
The faux normality ended and he hoped that his destiny was actually a good one, that he wouldn’t end his life as the father who killed his demonic daughter to save the world. He hoped they’d never find out what he was. He wasn’t prepared to have Dean turn on him, not when he smelled of familiar things like death. The smell, a reminder of the life Conner had taken away from him, memories taken and once returned an empty place in his heart that needed to be filled. Conner knows that he’ll never admit to Dean that the reason he can’t keep his hands off the other hunter after a kill is then, just then, the smell is that much stronger.