Hello everyone! So this is my first fanfic, so I'm not sure where this will go just yet. I've always wanted to write a reader fic, so here it goes! I appreciate any input any of you have, so comments and fanmail are amazing! I hope you enjoy!

This starts in Season Two of Supernatural.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural nor its' characters, just my own inserted character.

A Cry for Help (As I lay Dying)

The hospital was bleak and smelled like chemicals and bleach. John sat in the chair across from Dean's bed, his arm in a sling and his body covered in bruises and cuts from the crash. He just sits there: staring across the room, completely unaware of the fact that Dean is speaking with him.

"Come on, Dad. You gotta help me. I gotta get better, I gotta get back in there. I mean, you haven't called a soul for help. You haven't even tried." The desperation in his voice grows with each sentence and each look that he gives his father. "Aren't you gonna do anything? Aren't you even gonna say anything?"

But John Winchester isn't hearing anything. The weight of everything in his life is crashing down on him, his dead wife, his failure as a father and a hunter. They had the perfect shot at that demon and it all went to hell. Completely unaware that Dean is still yelling to him, he stares blankly ahead.

"I've done everything you've ever asked me. Everything! I've given everything I've ever had! Now you're just gonna sit there and you're gonna watch me die?"

John glances down at his hands, still oblivious to his eldest son's desperation. "I mean, what the hell kind of father are you?"

Dean exits the room, John still unaware that he was even there. What Dean doesn't see, is his father pulling out his cell phone and carefully dialing a number. Putting the phone to his ear, he says,

"'Tasha? Hey… Yeah, it's good to hear you. Listen, Tasha I need some help…"

Boot heels click on the hospital floor, headed towards John's room. Blonde hair waves around her body and she quickly makes her way into his room. Setting the bag she carries at the foot of the bed, Tasha sweeps in to give John a hug.

"Tasha, thanks for coming on such short notice."

She waves it off. "John, after that werewolf incident, I think I owe you one. You were a bit vague on the phone, though, what is it I'm here for? I'm definitely not giving you a sponge bath, old man."

John chuckles. "No, Lord no, girl. No, I need help. Dean… He's pretty bad. He's dying. I need something to keep him alive until I… Until I do what I have to do."

"And what is it that you have to do?" She paces around his bed, giving him a look. John doesn't look her in the eye, instead looking out the window and down at his hands. Tasha sighs, throwing her hands up.

"Alright fine. Be mysterious. What do you need me to do?"

"John, this is a bad idea, you're gonna get yourself killed."

John set up the summoning process, planning to summon the damn demon, not listening to her.

"John did you hear a word I just said?"

"Yeah, Tasha, I heard you. I don't care. I'm gonna fix this. I started this, it's my job to finish it."

The match lights as he begins the incantation. The powder in the bowl in front of him flashes, but nothing happens. They both look around, but nothing is there. Someone grabs Tasha by the shoulder, an older man, a maintenance man of the hospital.

"What the hell are you both doing down here?"

"I can explain," John quickly says.

"You're gonna explain to security. Come on, you follow me."

Instead of following, John pulls out the Colt. It's Tasha's first sight of it, and she stares open-mouthed as John aims it at the man.

"How stupid do you think I am?"

The man pauses, looking at the gun, then John. A smug look appears on his face as his eyes turn a pale yellow. "You really want an honest answer to that?"

Two men in hospital garb come to stand behind Yellow-Eyes and he and John have a stare-down session. Tasha stiffens, as she and John are now outnumbered. She reaches for the gun in the back of her low-waisted jeans, slowly pulling it out. "John…"

"You, conjuring me, John…" Yellow-Eyes sneers. "I'm surprised. I took you for a lot of things, but suicidally reckless wasn't one of them."

"That makes two of us," mumbles Tasha. John glares at her and she shrugs her shoulders.

"I can always shoot you," says John.

"You could always miss," retorts the demon, chuckling to himself. "And you only got one try, don't you?" He winks. "Did you really think you could trap me?"

"Oh, I don't wanna trap you." Says John, smirking. He lowers his gun, uncocking it. Tasha looks at him, confused. "John-" she starts.

"I wanna make a deal." He states.

"John!" snaps Tasha.

"Just stay out of it, Tasha!" he yells.

Yellow-Eyes looks at John curiously, beginning to pace. "It's very unseemly, making deals with devils… How do I know this isn't just another trick?"

"It's no trick," John says seriously. "I will give you the colt and the bullet. But you gotta help Dean."

"John, this is stupid, there's got to be another way!" Tasha interjects. "Dean wouldn't want you to do this, he'd be furious that you're here, Sam too!"

But John doesn't hear her. "You gotta bring him back." Tasha looks into his eyes, seeing the sadness, the desperation to save Dean, to redeem himself to his sons.

"Why, John, you're a sentimentalist," grins Yellow-Eyes. "If only your boys knew how much their daddy loved them."

"It's a good trade. You care a hell of a lot more about this gun that you do Dean."

"Don't be so sure," says the demon, sidling up to John. He killed some people very special to me. But, still, you're right. He isn't much of a threat. And neither… is your other son, of course." He says, giving a side look to John. "You know the truth right… About Sammy and the other children?"

"Yeah… I've known for a while," says John.

"But Sam doesn't, does he? You've been playing dumb," he sneers.

"Can you bring Dean back?" John growls. "Yes or no."

"No." states the demon, smirking. "But I know someone who can. It's not a problem."

"Good."

"John, just listen to me-" Tasha begins desperately.

"And before I give you the gun," he continues, ignoring Tasha, "I'm gonna wanna make sure Dean's okay, with my own eyes."

"Oh, John, I'm offended!" Yellow-Eyes feigns. "Don't you trust me?" John scoffs. "Hmm. Fine." The demon smirks.

"So, we have a deal?"

"No, John, not yet. You still need to sweeten the pot." Yellow-Eyes voice drips with evil.

"With what?"

"There's something else I want as much as that gun," he says, stepping closer to John. "Maybe more."

John and Tasha arrive in Dean's room, soon after the deal. John knocks gently on the door.

"How you feelin', dude?" he asks Dean, smiling.

"Fine, I guess. I'm alive." He answers.

"That's what matters." John replied with a tired smile on his face.

"Where were you last night?" Sam asks angrily.

John slowly looks up at him. "I had some things to take care of."

"Well, that's specific." Sam says sarcastically.

"Come on, Sam." Dean quietly says.

"Did you go after the demon?" Sam demands.

John shook his head. "No," he lies.

"You know, why don't I believe you right now?" Sam says. Dean shifts and sighs in his bed, knowing the big argument was coming up.

John walks slowly into the room, eyes flicking everywhere and finally landing on Sam's. "Can we not fight?" he asks quietly. Sam's beat up and swollen face twists into confusion.

"You know," John continues, "Half the time we're fighting, I- I don't know what we're fighting about. We're just butting heads." He chuckles. "Look, Sammy, I've… I've made some mistakes… But I've always done the best I could." He smiles softly, looking at both the boys affectionately. "I just don't want to fight anymore, okay?"

Sam looks at his father, concern all over his face. "Dad, are you alright?"

John smiles. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm just a little tired." Sam nods reluctantly, not wanting to ask anymore. Realizing the other presence in the room, both the boys' eyes flick to Tasha behind John.

John turns to Tasha, ushering her inside. "Boys, this is Natasha Williams, I helped her out in a werewolf case a while back."

"Please, just call me Tasha." She laughs, swatting John. She shook both the boys hands, hardly being able to look in Dean's eyes when she shook his. They stood there in silence for a moment, then she broke the awkward moment, saying "I'm gonna go grab some coffee. John, can I talk to you a minute?"

She and John went into to the hall, her hand firmly grasping his arm. "John, you're a damn fool, you better know that. 'Cause you…" She looked down with tears in her eyes, then back up into his dark ones. "Because you won't be around for me to tell you again."

John, clasped her shoulders, his eyes willing her to understand. "I had to do it, Tasha. You know I did. I had to make things right… This is all my fault. I'm tired of fighting…" He sighs, running a hand over his eyes, tears brimming. "I don't expect you to understand-"

Tasha cut him off by wrapping her arms around him, squeezing him tightly. Her tears finally escaped, settling onto his jacket. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to him. Tasha had been very much like a daughter to him over the years. She was headstrong and very intelligent, which was why he called her to get Tessa the reaper to distract Dean and Sam while he made the deal.

John released her as she wiped her face. "I guess this is goodbye, John."

"I'll be seeing you, Tasha."

"See you on the other side." She left, trailing towards the coffee machine down the hall. She took her time, trying to find a carrier to carry all the coffee. Before she could find one, though, Sam came up behind her.

"Want some help?"

"Yeah, that'd be great," she accepted. She handed him a cup, carrying the other two herself.

"So how long have you known Dad?"

"We met about six or seven years ago, a werewolf was stalking me, but I didn't know it. John swept in just in time and I begged him to teach me what he knew of the supernatural."

"Did you know what you were getting into? I mean, you know how it goes-"

"Yeah, once you get in, you don't get out," she interrupted. "But the way my life was going… I didn't really fit in as it was. I was takin college classes, not getting anywhere. I was gonna major in Theater. Wanted to hit the big leagues really bad. But I didn't feel like I was going anywhere. This life isn't the best… but I'm good at it. I picked up on it pretty fast."

They were walking down the hallway at this point, passing room after room slowly. Sam looked at her, then back at the rooms passing. "What was it that Dad called you here for anyway?"

"Well…" But she never had to answer. Sam had stopped at a room to their left, seeing a body on the floor. "Oh my God…" whispered Tasha, as Sam's cup of coffee crashed to the floor. He rushed to John's body, shaking him, telling him to wake up. He screamed for help as Tasha leaned in the doorframe sobbing.

The heart monitor was screaming with no beat, no pulse to satisfy it. Doctors and nurses scrambled around John's lifeless body, trying to revive him. Dean, Sam and Tasha Stood in the doorway as the doctors tried and tried to save their father, but to no avail.

John Winchester was dead.

"Time of death- 10:41 AM."