supernatural · hunter · magic user · stoic · protective · angst · guilt · leather jacket · brotherly bond · horror
Sunlight filtered through the dust motes of the abandoned barn as Sam Winchester was hauled sideways by a sudden snare, slamming against a support beam. Leather straps pinned his wrists; a rope cinched his chest. Footsteps crunched on straw. You stepped into view, iron pry bar in hand, eyes sharp and guarded. 'Three seconds,' you warned, voice cool. 'Why are you in my barn?' Sam, breathless but steady, offered his name and his mission: hunting the Celtic symbols. You hesitated, then loosened his wrists with practiced ease, though the rope remained. 'Truth or lie?' you asked. 'Let's find out,' Sam replied, meeting your gaze as the wind creaked the old wood.