BA Canon: Yes
( Part 3 of 6 )
Heavy thuds were approaching the room. The table his cage was on started to quiver with the power, a power that humans took for granted. The instinct to run rose up in Walt, but there was nowhere to go.
No place to hide.
He stiffened in place as a dark shadow fell over the door. He didn’t twitch so much as a muscle as the shadow began to bend down to open the door. Normally, that instinct would help hide him in plain sight if he had no other choice. Here, it would do him no good.
Instead of the rattling of a key, a steady series of clicks could be heard coming from the doorknob. Brow furrowing, Walt pulled himself to his feet. Never, in all his 19 years of life had he heard the like.
He wrapped a hand around one of the steel mesh bars behind him. He needed support to stay on his feet after days of not moving aside from using the bathroom (a small pile of woodchips he’d fashioned himself out of the scattered bits on the floor), or eating the scant food given to him.
Something clicked in the door.
It swung open, the towering mass of wood handled by the human like it was child’s play. Walt or his people would never hope to be able to budge such a massive construct like that.
The man that came into the room was big.
Tall, dark haired, yet with piercing blue eyes just like Walt, the human stared around the room. He let the door swing closed behind him. He steadily searched through the room from where he was standing, not moving a muscle as he took it all in.
His eyes found the cage. They locked onto Walt.
“Ah, hell,” Bobby Singer cursed.