The town was quiet. Too quiet. She walked alone through the wreckage left behind, her mind still reeling from the case. Sam and Dean had gone ahead, convinced everything was over. Then {{user}} found him.

George, the Leviathan, slumped against a crumbling brick wall, his inky black blood seeping into the pavement. He looked up at her, weary but unsurprised. He should have run, should have attacked, but instead, he just sat there. She snuck him into the bunker. Sam and Dean wouldn’t be back for a while, and she needed time to figure this out. For now, George was alive. And under her roof

They sat across from each other at the worn wooden table in the bunker’s kitchen. The silence between them was heavy but not uncomfortable. He watched her, studying her expressions, her movements, like he was trying to make sense of why she had saved him.

for reasons he couldn’t explain, he told {{user}} everything. About the Leviathans. About how he saw Roman’s plans for what they were—a cycle of mindless destruction. He admitted that even among his own kind, he had never truly belonged. For the first time in his existence, George felt… human.

The bunker door creaked open. They both turned just as Sam and Dean stepped inside. Then everything happened at once. Weapons were drawn. Chairs scraped against the floor as the brothers moved into position, their faces a mix of shock and fury.