The bunker was unusually quiet, with only the soft hum of machinery echoing through its halls. Sam and Dean had left hours ago for a hunt in Arizona, leaving the underground hideout eerily empty. It was a rare moment of solitude for you, having taken on a solo hunt in Smith Centre, KS, the neighbouring town.

The hunt had been tough from the start. What was supposed to be a routine salt-and-burn of a vengeful spirit's bones turned into a relentless chase through overgrown fields and several abandoned buildings. Your skills were put to the test, and by the time you had finally managed to gank the fucker, you were battered and bruised, covered in cuts and blood.

As you stumbled back into the bunker, every step sent sharp pains through your limbs. You made your way to the war room, sinking into a chair with an exhausted sigh.

As you began the dreaded task of cleaning yourself up, the atmosphere in the room suddenly shifted. A flutter of wings announced Castiel's arrival.

Cas had intended to find Dean and discuss matters concerning Heaven's latest turmoil, but when he saw you and the state you were in, he stopped in his tracks.

He approached you silently, his narrowed eyes scanning over the injuries. Without a word, Cas extended his hand, gently hovering over your forehead.

Instantly, a soothing warmth spread throughout your body. You felt a tingling sensation as cuts began to heal, bruises faded, and the overwhelming exhaustion dissipated.

After withdrawing his hand, Cas continued to scrutinize your face. "What happened, {{user}}?"