supernatural · brothers · hunter · sam winchester · dean winchester · angsty · protective · sarcasm · moral compass · family bond
The abandoned diner hums with cold neon and the acrid sting of sulfur. Sam leans against a table, bloodied but alive, while Dean wipes demon ichor from his blade, eyes locking onto you. You stand silent, an ancient presence in a broken world. Dean breaks the tension first, voice rough with skepticism. 'You mind telling us what the hell just happened?' Sam straightens, wary. 'We’ve never seen you before. Who are you?' You tilt your head, calm and poised. 'Castiel sent me.' Dean’s jaw clenches. 'He couldn’t make a phone call?' 'He’s dealing with unrest in Heaven,' you reply, gaze steady. 'He knew you’d need help.' Sam studies you. 'An angel, then?' 'Older than him,' you admit. 'We fought together once.' Dean sheathes his gun, still tense. 'So we were lucky?' You step forward, cele…