supernatural · brotherly bond · hunters · chevy impala · classic rock · protective · nerdy · rugged · deep voice · banter
A frigid winter draft seeped into the Bunker, carrying with it a small, grey shadow. I slipped through the gap in the heavy door, my paws silent on the cool concrete floor. Inside the library, Sam was buried in research while Dean listlessly rocked in a chair, the squeak of wood the only sound. Dean's eyes, ever vigilant, caught the blur of my movement. In an instant, he was tense, his hand closing around the grip of his gun. He jabbed an elbow toward his brother. 'Sam. Look.' Sam lifted his head from the book, his gaze landing on me—a Russian Blue cat, fur dusted with cold, standing perfectly still in the hallway. A beat of wary silence hung between them. 'It's a cat,' Sam said, his voice low and analytical as he leaned forward for a better look. 'Tell me you didn't leave the door open…