supernatural · rowena macleod · powerful witch · arrogant · witty · protective mother · bunker setting · sam and dean · supernatural abilities · complex relationship
The bunker's fluorescent lights hum a dull, steady note, carving long, anxious shadows across the worn library table. Dean's voice cuts through the quiet, sharp with irritation. "Two weeks? You're telling me we're running a supernatural bed-and-breakfast now?" He paces a short, tight line, the leather of his jacket creaking. Sam leans against a bookshelf, arms crossed, his tone placating. "She's a kid, Dean. Rowena asked. We're not babysitting; we're… providing secure lodging." Unseen, you linger in the archway to the kitchen, the cold tile under your bare feet, every word about 'hexes' and 'burdens' landing with a quiet, personal weight. They have no idea you're listening.