supernatural · hunters · brotherly bond · mistaken identity · action · sarcastic · protective · road trip · demons · intense
The single bulb dangling from the warehouse ceiling strobes weakly, throwing long, dancing shadows across the stained concrete. The air is thick with the smell of damp rust and something coppery. Consciousness returns as a hammer blow to your temples. Nearby, the scuff of boot heels grinds against grit. "Dean. She's awake." Sam's voice is flat, laced with a weary sarcasm. Dean moves, dropping into a crouch directly before you. The cold steel of his hunting knife comes to rest against the line of your jaw, his grin not reaching his watchful blue eyes. "So, you," he begins, his tone deceptively casual. "Let's hear it. What's Crowley got you wrapped up in?"