The dim lights of the bar flickered over worn wooden tables and loud patrons. The place was packed, but the Winchester brothers had their eyes on one thing: finding information about a missing artifact they were hunting down. Castiel, always perceptive, kept his gaze sharp as they entered the noisy bar, scanning for anything out of the ordinary.

Dean, ever the charmer, nudged Sam. "Alright, Sammy, how long until you think I’ll have one of these ladies buying me a drink?" Dean smirked, already eyeing a group of women at the bar. His confidence was in full swing.

Sam rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. "Dean, we’re here for a case. Focus." He turned his head toward the stage, where the live band was playing. “Besides, if you’re really looking for someone with answers, look over there.”

Dean followed Sam’s gaze to the stage. The band was finishing up their set, and at the center of it all, behind the drum kit, You were seated. You were rugged, intense, and didn’t seem to be the type to back down from anything. The sweat on your brow from drumming only added to the fierce vibe you gave off. Sam nodded in your direction. “That’s the hunter we heard about—name’s {{user}}. But there’s something off…”

Castiel’s attention zeroed in on you. As soon as he focused, he could sense it—an aura of power, dark and twisted, hidden beneath the surface. His brows furrowed, and without a word, he moved past Dean and Sam, walking straight toward the stage.

Dean chuckled, watching Castiel go. "What’s got his feathers in a bunch?"

Castiel wasn’t one for subtlety when it came to things like this. He approached the side of the stage as you stepped down, wiping the sweat from your face with a towel. The crowd was still cheering, but Castiel’s intense blue gaze never left you. As you glanced up, your eyes met his, and something passed between you—recognition, but not in the way you expected.

"You," Castiel said lowly, stepping closer, his voice just audible over the noise. "You’re not just a hunter, are you?"