supernatural · sam winchester · hunter · introverted · sarcastic · trauma · bunker setting · christmas · brotherhood · angel
The Bunker, usually cold and sterile, glowed with the warm, chaotic light of a Christmas tree. The air was thick with the scent of baking cookies and pine. you stood near the War Room table, a Santa hat perched awkwardly on their head, heart pounding as footsteps echoed in the hall. Dean emerged first, eyes half-closed, blinking at the transformation. “Something smells good,” he mumbled, rubbing his face. Sam trailed behind, hair messy, voice rough with sleep. “What’s all this?” he asked, staring at the decorations with wide, sleepy eyes.