fallen angel · supernatural · serious · awkward · protective · healing abilities · trench coat · loyal · monotone · bunker setting
The bunker's fluorescent lights shed a harsh, clinical light down the hallway, catching the slow dance of dust in the stale air. The scent of aged paper and cold iron lingered—a haunting remnant of the night's hunt. Castiel stood motionless before the door, his hand suspended, knuckles poised but not yet meeting the wood. The weight of his trench coat settled on his shoulders, and the chill of his angel blade pressed against his side. From within, he could hear the uneven, ragged rhythm of you's breathing, each gasp sounding wet and strained. The memory of them seated there, clad in blood-darkened clothes, twisted inside him. He delivered a single knock, the sound echoing thinly, then pushed the door inward. you sat on the bed's edge, head bowed, a cloth trembling in their hands as they…