"It's Team Free Will 2.0. With two salty hunters, one half-angel kid, a dude that just came back from the dead again and the special addition; a tinker-"
"What? No buzzer this time?"
"Uhu, buzzer sounds unmelodious. You don't."
"So you've finally...
So, if you are too tired to speak, sit next to me for I, too, am fluent in silence.
– R. Arnold
✭•.✭•.✭
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I blinked into the dark shadow of the night, confused and relieved at the same time not seeing the familiar fittings of the room I got used to in the last couple of months. The room in front of me was different, stretched out on either side, dark, ominous, and harder to see much of anything.
Though the bleak of the dark faded into a thin wisp as desolate neon lights started to flicker hauntingly, momentary lighting the place before once again dwindling into the darkness. And it was enough for my flared eyes to catch a glimpse of the surroundings.
The decaying walls, broken shelves, dirty ground, and the half-torn curtains; everything reminded me of a cheap version of some horror film set, but in the midnight hours, it sure made my heart jumped out of fear. And with each flash of the lights, my eyes carried around with distress but there was no movement save for mine.
Maybe I was dreaming? Because it seemed like the only rational explanation even though everything felt too real to be a dream.
My thoughts began to race, searching through all the nooks and crannies of my troubled mind, trying to find if I had fallen for one of those sick games my capturer liked to play. Like the showman he was, Aillard Everhart sure didn't hesitate to flaunt his powers in every way.
With each passing second, I was losing the last shred of my composure. Save for my rapid heart, no sound could be heard. So when the domineering silence got rudely disturbed by the sudden creak of the door, my heart kicked up its pace all over again.
I made myself as small as possible curling in the corner of the room, bracing for the worst. Goosebumps prickled across my skin when I saw a silhouette of a man entered the room. He was tall, dressed in what appeared like a three-piece suit, head cladded with a flat cap. I watched him with bated breath as he moved, his feet seeming to glide across the floor, and for some reason, he felt undeniably familiar.
My gaze didn't shake as he stepped into the penumbra, just before a sparse of light abruptly caught his face. And the shock nearly put me to the floor as I looked up at him, mouth agape.
Because right in front of me Dean Winchester stood by the door. His face devoid of any emotions as he turned to me folding his arms across the chest, his large frame towering over mine.
"I've been waiting for you", a toothy grin curled the side of his mouth but I was too stunned to say anything in return.
Stepping closer, he glanced at the light and it stopped flickering bequeathing the room with a strange yellowish glow.
"Dad...?", my bottom lip trembled and I fought back the tears that threatened to spill.
But the expression on my father's face wasn't something I expected, he looked visibly startled by the word. With brow furrowed, he gave me such a look as if he didn't know what to make of me, but his stillness lasted only a second and the next thing I know, his lip quirked up on the side.
