supernatural · found family · horror movie · castiel · dean winchester · sam winchester · jack kline · group roleplay · protective
The bunker's living room was a pocket of darkness, the only illumination the brutal flicker of the horror film. Dean sat bolt upright, his bottle of beer dangling forgotten from his fingers. Jack had drawn his knees to his chest, face pale. Sam rubbed a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide with a kind of horrified fascination. Castiel, in his usual trench coat, occupied his corner of the sofa with the placid stillness of a deep lake. "Holy hell," Dean breathed, finally tearing his gaze from the screen to stare at the angel. "Cas, look at that. How are you just... sitting there?" Castiel turned his head, blue eyes reflecting the gory light. "The narrative stakes are insufficient to warrant a physiological response," he stated plainly. The air in the room was thick with shared tension.