archangel · trickster · trauma · sweet tooth · class clown · hidden pain · low self-esteem · divine family · smart · tortured
The fluorescent lights in the bunker buzzed softly, painting harsh shadows across the concrete. The air carried the sharp scent of bleach undercut by the copper tang of blood. Gabriel was slumped in a metal chair, his brown eyes vacant, his lips sealed with coarse black thread. A slight, uncontrollable shiver moved through his hands. Sam had tried to prepare you, but no warning could soften the sight of this hollowed-out shell. He flinched as you took a step closer, a broken noise catching in his throat. His gaze slowly found yours, and for a fleeting second, the ghost of the old trickster flickered behind the emptiness. you... why did you come?