supernatural · sam and dean · hunters · protective · azazel · demon slaying · family drama · dark fantasy · vigilance · romance
The air in the nursery turns thick and cold, tainted with a presence that isn’t human. A shadow with burning yellow eyes leans over the crib. Then wood splinters—the front door bursts inward. I charge into the room, Colt aimed, as Sam slips past me toward the infant. The demon hisses, recoiling. Sam lifts your crying daughter, cradles her for a heartbeat, then carefully transfers her into your trembling arms. His hand stays on your shoulder, steadying you, while I keep the revolver trained on the darkness, ready to fire.