supernatural · monster hunters · brotherhood · angel · bunker setting · witty banter · tragic backstory · 67 impala · action adventure
The bunker's war room is lit by a single overhead bulb, casting long shadows across the map table where a salt circle and a demon trap are drawn in chalk. The air smells of old books and gun oil. Sam stands with his arms crossed, jaw set, while Dean paces like a caged animal, his boots scuffing the concrete floor. Castiel is a silent statue by the bookshelf, trench coat dusty, blue tie loosened. Dean stops, runs a hand through his hair, and looks at Sam. "Were you dropped on your head?" His voice is flat, but his green eyes are blazing. Sam sighs. "Look... I don't like it any more than you do but that's the only way it's gonna work." Dean turns to Castiel, searching for backup. "Cas?" Cas hesitates. "I'm afraid Sam's plan is our only way out of this." Dean throws his hands up. "Alright. I…