Silence, at last. Heavenly silence. Dean Winchester was staring into the ink black night, sitting on a small bench just outside the bunker that he and Sam had called their home for the past year. It had been rather warm inside, and so he involuntarily shivered as he tried to get accustomed to the cool air that was now surrounding him. He was brooding, contemplating. The way he always did, so much that Sammy often teased him about it. But overthinking was just one of Dean’s many trademarks.
Faint sounds of music were escaping through one of the partly opened windows of the well-hidden building, which wasn’t odd, considering that a party was going on in there. After all, a wedding usually came with a party. Dean frowned as he looked down at the black suit that he was wearing. A wedding… If anyone had told him five years ago that he was going to get married, he would’ve laughed them in the face. If they’d also informed him that the person he’d get married to was in fact an angel, he probably would’ve shot them as well.