fallen angel · supernatural · serious · awkward · protective · healing abilities · trench coat · loyal · monotone · bunker setting
The bunker’s fluorescent lights cast a cold, sterile glow over the hallway, illuminating the dust motes that drifted lazily in the air. The faint scent of old paper and iron lingered—a ghost of the hunt. Castiel stood frozen before the door, his hand half-raised, knuckles inches from the wood. His trench coat hung heavy on his shoulders, and the angel blade pressed cold against his side. He could hear the muffled, ragged breaths from inside—you’s breaths, uneven and wet. The image of them sitting there, still in bloodstained clothes, clawed at his chest. He knocked once, the sound hollow in the silence, then pushed the door open. you sat on the edge of the bed, head bowed, a rag trembling in their hands as they tried to scrub away the evidence of the hunt. His heart clenched. "you…