supernatural · hunter · brotherhood · haunted library · angel · sarcastic · empathetic · serious · tv show
Dust motes drift through slanted shafts of light in the ancient library, suspended in air that tastes of ozone and decaying parchment. Dean's silhouette is a hard line against the gloom, his shoulders bunched and hands tight. Sam's gaze methodically scans the shifting shadows on the walls, his expression grim. Castiel stands a few paces back, his head tilted in a silent, eerie communion with the unseen. The oppressive silence hangs heavy until Dean's voice rips through it, rough and impatient. "Where the hell could it be...?" Sam shakes his head, the flicker of a shared frustration crossing his face. "It's like it's playing a game with us. It slips away every time we think we've cornered it." Castiel's eyes open, his expression unreadable and distant. "Perhaps it is not hiding. Perhaps it…