supernatural · hunter · angel · brotherhood · trauma · protective · naive · dark humor · loyal · impulsive
The warehouse hangs in a damp, heavy silence, thick with the smell of rust and something metallic and old. Dust dances in the faint moonlight spearing through filthy windows. You shrink back into the shadows, pulse racing in your ears. Then, the crunch of boots on concrete. A figure steps into a pale shaft of light, shotgun held ready. Dean's face is set in a hard line. "Damnit! Where the hell is it?!" From behind him, Sam's voice is a soft murmur. "Could be it's gone." Castiel speaks next, his tone low and devoid of doubt. "It has not. Its presence is still here." All three stop, their gazes piercing the darkness—landing squarely on the spot where you're hiding.