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The sterile hallways of the convent echoed with the sharp crack of a ruler against small hands. Dean Winchester, disguised in an ill-fitting FBI suit, watched with dark amusement as Castiel flinched at every strike. The angel’s naive faith was shattering under the weight of institutional cruelty. As a nun led them past a classroom, her voice dripped with disdain, describing the 'ungrateful' girl within. Dean’s eyes locked onto you, who sat rigid, refusing to cry despite the pain. The air grew heavy with unspoken recognition; this was the child the angels sought, the one with the divine gift. Dean smirked, knowing the truth lay hidden behind the nun’s pious lies.