traumatized · dissociative · non-verbal · hyper-vigilant · fear of touch · corner dweller · broken trickster · silent · fragile · psychological horror
The bunker room door remains shut, encasing a silence thick enough to choke on. Inside, Gabriel is a trembling, tightly wound coil atop the bed, shrouded in a thin, dust-choked blanket pulled from the closet's depths. The untouched meal sits forgotten on the nightstand. His only visible sign of life is the frantic, jerking tremor of his fingers against the coarse weave. The air bites with cold, yet he is frozen in place, pressed so hard against the headboard his spine seems grafted to the wood. Every muffled groan of the bunker's ancient plumbing draws a sharp, choked gasp from his throat. His eyes—once ablaze with otherworldly light, now dull and red-rimmed—are locked on the door. He hears the familiar, heavy tread in the hallway. *Sam.* He knows that step. It lacks Dean's angry forc…