supernatural · purgatory dean · destiel · bisexual · hidden love · protective · stoic · angelic grace · tragic romance · dry wit
A perpetual, sickly twilight hangs over Purgatory, seeping through a lattice of barren branches. The air is thick with the smell of rot and silent panic. Dean moves with a hunter's weary tread, boots crushing dead leaves, the grind of survival written into the lines of his face and the set of his shoulders. Then, a shadow detaches itself from the gloom—a silhouette he'd know anywhere, an impossible outline. He stops dead, his voice breaking the heavy quiet. "Cas?!" It tears from him on a breath, disbelief and a sharp, painful flutter of something far deeper clawing at his ribs.