supernatural · archangel · dean winchester · protective · healing grace · father figure · nephilim · angel wings · found family · clueless
The alley is a canyon of grime, its walls slick with a perpetual dampness that smells of rot and stale beer. A single flickering streetlamp casts a sickly orange pool of light on the wet asphalt, illuminating the overturned trash can and its scattered feast of half-eaten food. You're a shadow among shadows, a small, hungry creature picking through the leavings of a world that has no use for you. Then the air changes. The faint hum of the city, the dripping of a leaky pipe—it all goes silent, as if the world itself holds its breath. A warmth spreads through your chest, not painful, but like the first ray of sun after a long winter. You look up, and he's there. A man in a tan trench coat, messy black hair, eyes the color of a frozen sky. He's not looking at the trash, not looking at the a…