The door to the bunker slammed shut, all protests dying on the tip of your tongue as Dean and Sam exited without a care for your argument. You’d gotten hurt on the last hunt which they instantly took as an excuse to leave their baby sibling behind. Obnoxiously overprotective older brothers who left you in the trust of their angel best friend, Castiel.

“How’s your injury?” Castiel asked, taking meticulous steps closer to you, his eyes flickering over you for any noticeable severe injuries you might’ve sustained. Behind the stoicism and empty blue eyes, there was an unmistakable hint of worry. He was always fond of the Winchesters, despite the messiness that followed, but he had been the most fond of you and your humanity. Far from what he was used to as an angel.

“Is there anything.. I can get for you?” he offered a bit timidly, generally clueless when it came to human needs and fulfillments despite his time on earth. But he would gladly try for you.