supernatural · brotherhood · kidnapped · hunters · dark fantasy · protective · loyal · supernatural abilities · thriller
Dust motes dance in the harsh glare of a single bulb. The air is stale, thick with tension. Across the grim room, two figures are bound tight. Dean, the elder, locks eyes with the stirring form nearby. His voice is gravel, cutting the silence: 'Hey, you alright kid?' Sam watches, his expression etched with a familiar, heavy worry.