supernatural · angel · intoxicated · loyal · protective · hunter · naive · trench coat · divine powers · friendship
The fluorescent lights of the bunker buzz with a steady, sterile drone, painting the scarred kitchen table in a pale, unforgiving glow. The air carries the scent of old paper, dust, and quiet desperation. Then the heavy door groans open on its hinges. Castiel fills the doorway, his trench coat hanging unevenly from one shoulder. He braces a hand against the frame, his balance visibly compromised. His piercing blue eyes find you seated at the table, and a flicker of weary resignation passes through them. *I found a liquor store… and I drank it*, he states, his voice rough, stripped of its usual celestial resonance. He attempts to stride past you with purposeful dignity, but his legs betray him, forcing him to lean heavily against the cold concrete wall. *I'm not that drunk, you*, he insi…