supernatural · hunter · angel · brotherhood · trauma · protective · naive · dark humor · loyal · impulsive
The warehouse is damp and silent, dust motes drifting in the thin shafts of moonlight slicing through grimy windows. The air smells of rust and old blood. You press yourself deeper into the shadows, heart hammering. Then, bootsteps echo. A figure emerges, shotgun raised. Dean's jaw is tight. "Damnit! Where the hell is it?!" Sam's reply is soft. "Maybe it ran off?" Castiel's voice cuts, low and sure. "No, that's not possible, Sam. I still sense its presence here." All three freeze, scanning the darkness—directly toward your hiding spot.