**Hey, sorry this took so long to get out! I'm so excited to hear what everyone thinks of this story and my version of the season! A lot is in store for this season, so keep reading! Thank you to everyone who reads, PMs, or reviews to my story! You guys are the best! A special thanks to Ladysunshine6 for all the amazing ideas! Again, hope everyone loves the first chapter! Thanks again and please review!**
In My Time of Dying
Dean pulled into the run down parking lot of the crappy, beat up motel where we'd be spending our next night. Hopefully, we'd actually get to sleep more than the usual four hours tonight. The time we slept always took a dive when we were on a hunt, especially one that was as emotionally involving as the last one. Dean had seemed to really like that kid, Lucas. It was a miracle Lucas hadn't drowned in the lake when the spirit had pulled him under. My thoughts drifted to the events that unfolded after the boy was rescued, and I desperately tried to turn my attention to anything else. Unfortunately, that seemed like an impossibility. Dean had kissed me.
Dean and I had spent the entire car ride avoiding each other's eyes and talking to Sam to fill the uncomfortable silence. I exerted every effort in an attempt to ignore the sexual tension that seemed to radiate between Dean and I, and I couldn't help but wonder if he felt it too. If he did, he didn't let on, instead choosing to keep his eyes permanently fixed on the road in front of us. I had kissed him.
What had I done? He didn't feel that way about me. He'd told me back in New Mexico. He'd said that he didn't anymore, so why would he kiss me? I couldn't get the image of his face after I opened my eyes on the dock. It had been the first thing I saw. His eyes had been red and puffy as if he'd been crying, and his breathing had been shaky. He'd just looked so vulnerable. In all the time I'd known him, I'd seen Dean look vulnerable, but not like that. The raw terror and overwhelming relief in his eyes, even now, made my throat close.
"Mel," I jumped slightly at Sam softly speaking my name, and it wasn't until I turned that I realized Dean was no longer in the car. "I said I think I'm going to the vending machine Do you want anything?" I opened the car door and stood as Sam pulled away from my open window that he'd been leaning through.
"I'll go with you," I ran a hand through my hair distractedly as we headed towards the vending machine.
"So, you and Dean…" Sam prompted as we came to a stop in front of the machine. I didn't look at him, choosing to focus on our snack options instead.
"I think I'll have a protein bar," I ignored his question completely as I mused aloud. "I'm haven't eaten all day, and I'll probably just crash once we get into the room,"
"Mel," I glanced up at Sam and quickly realized that he wasn't letting me off the hook without an answer. I put in the money, hitting the buttons for three protein bars, figuring Sam and Dean would eat whatever I gave them at this point.
"I don't know," Was all the answer I gave as I handed him his bar, and we headed back to the car. My eyes turned to him as I heard him scoff incredulously. "What?" Before he could answer, Dean came out of the lobby with three keys in his hand. I grabbed my duffel out of the car and carried it to the room, dropping it beside one of the beds before turning to go to the bathroom. I froze when I heard Sam's next words.
"Well, you two look like you have a lot to talk about. I'm going to go get some real food," He set his protein bar down on the table, and before I could say anything he shut the door behind him. I was alone with Dean.
"I'm going to take a shower," Dean's cool tone stung me as much as his indifferent words. I grabbed his arm as he walked by, forcing him to look at me.
"You kissed me," I stated, and his jaw tightened as he turned his body to face me. "Why?" A humorless laugh escaped his lips, and I fought the urge to flinch at the harshness of the sound.
"I seem to remember you pretty eager to return the favor," My jaw fell open at his douchebag reply that was accompanied with a smirk.
"Yeah," The surprised look vanished from my face, replaced by one of frustration and anger. "I did kiss you. At least I'm not too scared to admit it," The smirk twisted into a pissed look. I'd lived with Dean for all of my life; I knew how to snap him back when he started to act like a dick.
"Scared?" He echoed furiously. "You think I'm scared?!"
"Yes! I just want you to say it," I snapped at him, somehow needing him to just say he kissed me, just admit that he did, that something might still be there.
"I can't!" His voice rose to a yell, but I didn't back down.
"Why not?!" I demanded, needing to know the answer.
"Because you broke my heart!" He exploded, and I flinched back, my eyes widening. He blinked, as if just realizing what he had said, and he began to turn.
"I never meant to hurt you-" I started softly, meaning every word.
"Yeah? Well, you did," He cut me off, still furious, and now facing me again. "You were the one that broke it off, remember? Not me,"
"It's not like I wanted to!" I yelled at him, too caught up in the argument to take notice of how my face was inches from his now.
"Well then what do you want?" Dean yelled back.
"I want you!" I snapped my mouth shut, but it was too late. The words were already out in the open, and I couldn't take them back no matter how much I wanted to. I couldn't tear my gaze from Dean's green eyes as he studied mine intently, as if searching for something that was hidden in them. In one smooth movement, he grabbed my face and slammed his lips down on mine.
The world came back to me in pieces. First, my hearing returned. Deep, even breathing by my bedside told me someone was there, probably in a chair, and there was a steady, rhythmic beeping to my left that I let slip into the background. Then, I could feel the scratchy sheets pulled over me and the stiff mattress beneath me. It was a feeling that was all too familiar. I was in a hospital.
The crash.
The memories crashed back to me like waves on rocks. Dean. Sam. John. My eyes snapped open, and I breathing quickened. The beeping sped up, and I turned to see a heart monitor. My eyes zeroed in on the figure who was asleep in the chair next to my bed with his head tilted sideways and leaning on some cabinets.
"Sam?" An overwhelming relief washed over me as the boy's eyes fluttered open to focus on me. He jackknifed to his feet, leaning over my bed and crushing me in a hug, which I gladly returned. "Are you alright? Where's Dean? And John?" The questions rushed out of me unchecked. Dean and John were okay. They had to be. But then why did Sam look so grim?
"John's fine. He's sleeping, but the doc said he should wake up soon," Whatever relief I felt in hearing the news dissipated as I took in Sam's tight features.
"And Dean?" Sam swallowed hard, and I could read the fear that was written all too clearly in his eyes.
"Mel…" He began cautiously, and my heart constricted painfully in my chest.
"He's okay," I shook my head, tears coming to my eyes. "Tell me he's okay,"
"He's alive," Sam told me instead, and I released a shaky breath. "But… it's not good,"
"What do you mean not good?" I tried to stifle the blind panic that was threatening to consume me.
"He's in a coma," Sam's voice cracked slightly, causing him to cough roughly. I felt as though my world had stopped spinning. He was alive. That was all that mattered. He would get better. He had to.
"I need to see him," I threw off the sheets to the bed, ignoring Sam's protests and pulling out the IV chords out of my arm before standing. The world swayed sickeningly, making my legs turn to jello beneath me. I would've hit the floor if it weren't for Sam's arms wrapped around my waist, holding me up and helping me back onto the bed.
"You have a mild concussion," He informed me, the ghost of a smile briefly flickering onto his face before vanishing again. My head was pounding and my ears were ringing, preventing me from focusing on what Sam was saying. "Mel?" The pounding and ringing died down, allowing me to focus again. "You have a mild concussion," I nodded to indicate I got the message, still recovering from the wave of dizziness. "You should be fine by the end of the day, but no sudden movements, and you are under an ordered bed rest,"
"I need to see him," I repeated, and Sam sighed heavily. "Sam, please," I met his eyes, mine begging him to help me. He let out another sigh, this one defeated.
-3rd Person-
Dean Winchester opened his eyes and sat up in the hospital bed, looking around the empty room suspiciously. Distantly, he could hear a man speaking, but he didn't pay attention to what was being said. He grimaced as a slight pain pricked at his spine, but he jumped to the ground anyway, realizing he wasn't wearing any shoes, only socks. He could barely focus on where he was walking as he headed out the door of his room and into the deserted hallway. All his mind could concentrate on was Mel, Sam, and his dad.
"Mel?" He called but got no reply. He just needed to see her - to make sure she was safe. "Sam?" Still nothing. If anything happened to Sammy… "Dad? Anybody?" His shouts grew louder as he reached the end of the hallway and looked both ways through the adjoining one. He opted for left, which lead him to a flight of stairs that he descended without question. He frowned at how odd it was. He'd been in hospitals before, yet never had he been in one as seemingly empty as this. He rounded the platform to the second set of steps before catching sight of the small desk that was set up there. A sign that hung above the enclosed desk read 'All Visitors must register at reception'.
"Excuse me," Dean spoke to the woman, wincing as he took the last few steps and reached the bottom. He walked to the window that looked into the reception desk. "Hi. I, uh - I think I was in a car accident with my girlfriend, my dad, and my brother. I just need to find them," He tried to ignore the worry that gnawed in his stomach, making it hard to breathe. The woman didn't even acknowledge his existence, making him frown in confusion. "Hello?" He snapped his fingers in front of the woman's face with no reaction.
What the hell was going on? He backed away from the desk before whirling and taking the stairs as fast as the pain in his back would allow. He retraced his steps at a run until he reached his room, and there he froze. There, in the bed, with a long tube coming out of his mouth and IVs hooked up to his arm, lay himself… or his body at least. He let out a shaky breath, leaning against the closed window. He hadn't been there five minutes when two people came slowly through the door, making Dean straighten instantly. They didn't even look at him as they stopped in the middle of the room.
"Mels," Dean spoke her name softly, his gaze traveling along her body and taking in her seemingly healthy, if not a bit tired, appearance. She was dressed in the same white shirt and faded blue pants with a beige, oversized jacket around her shoulders. It took Dean a moment to recognize the jacket as Sam's. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun that didn't quite hold all of the strands, leaving some to fall into her face, though she barely noticed. Somehow, despite the scratches that were scattered across her face and the bruise on her right forearm, he didn't think he'd ever seen a more beautiful woman in his entire life.
"Sammy," He tore his eyes from Mel to fix on his brother, smiling as he finally knew for certain that they were both alive and well. "You two look good… considering," He let out a chuckle, but he faltered as he realized they hadn't even glanced at him as he spoke. He moved around the bed to see their faces, and when he spoke again, his voice held a note of desperation. "Mels, tell me you can hear me," She was supposed to be the one who could hear better, right? Well, then why couldn't she hear him? Instead of responding, she pulled the jacket, which she was wearing over her hospital clothes, tighter around her as she gazed at Dean's sleeping form.
"How's Dad?" Dean tried. "Is he okay?" Mels pressed one hand, that was half covered with the sleeve of Sam's jacket, against her mouth firmly, and Dean's heart nearly broke as he saw the tears forming in her eyes. "Come on, Mels, you're supposed to be the one with the hearing," She squeezed her eyes shut tightly before opening them again, blinking harshly. "Sam? You're the psychic. Give me some ghost whispering or something,"
"You're father's awake. You can go see him if you like," Both Mel and Sam spun to see the short, dark-skinned doctor that stood in the doorway. Dean's eyes snapped to Mel as she swayed, her face growing three shades paler in the course of a few seconds.
"Hey, hey," Dean was by her side in a moment, but Sam already had his arms around her, guiding her to a chair where she sat heavily.
"What is she doing out of bed?" The doctor demanded, and Dean's eyes flicked to him and then Sam before fixing on Mel.
"What's wrong with her?" He demanded, but no one responded.
"I'm alright," Mel spoke up in a determined voice, rising slowly while holding onto Sam's shoulder.
"You need rest," The doctor instructed, but she shook her head slowly.
"What about Dean?" Instinctively, Dean moved closer to Mel to slip an arm around her waist only to stop himself. She couldn't hear him, and if she couldn't hear him she probably couldn't see him or feel him. The thought sent an ache through his heart.
"Well, he sustained serious injury - blood loss, contusions to his liver and kidney, but it's the head trauma I'm worried about. There's early signs of cerebral edema," Dean frowned as the doctor gave his diagnosis.
"Well, what can we do?" Sam questioned, and Mel looked hopefully up at the doctor.
"Well, we won't know his full condition until he wakes up," Dean accepted the information, glancing back at his body. All he had to do was wake up. "If he wakes up," Mel's head snapped up, and her wide eyes found the doctor.
"What do you mean if?" Dean knew that voice; she was trying to fight panic or fear… or both. The thought of her afraid and alone infuriated him, and he turned his eyes on the doctor.
"Screw you, Doc. I'm waking up," He snapped, but the doctor gave no sign he'd heard. Instead, he just calmly regarded Mels and Sammy.
"I have to be honest," He continued. "Most people with his degree of injury wouldn't have survived this long. He's fighting very hard, but you both need to have realistic expectations,"
"Come on. Go find some hoodoo priest to lay some mojo on me. I'll be fine," His eyes were drawn to Mel's right hand as a tremor went through it; she did that when she was terrified. It was an unconscious habit of hers. He wanted so badly to comfort her. To comfort them both. If only they could just see him. "Sam. Mel," They didn't respond.
"You should be in bed," The doctor fixed Mel with a pitying gaze, and she straightened, making Dean's mouth twitch up in a brief smile. She hated to be pittied.
"After I see John,"
-1st Person-
"Alright. Here," Sam and I sat at John's bedside while he handed Sam his wallet. "Give them my insurance," Sam took the card, reading the name and smiling slightly.
"Elroy McGillicuddy," I let out a breathy laugh that had no real humor in it.
"And his two loving sons," John turned his dark eyes on me. "You have yours?" I opened my mouth to reply when Sam beat me to it.
"I took care of it," He informed both of us. In all the chaos that had happened, I hadn't even thought to ask about it.
"You're sure you're alright?" John checked, studying me in concern, and I nodded confidently.
"I'll be alright. It's just a bump on the head," I brushed the damage off like it was nothing even though my head was starting to feel a bit heavy.
"What else did the doctor say about Dean?" I swallowed hard and shook my head, forcing myself to answer John's question.
"Nothing more," There was silence for a moment as he seemed to accept my words, looking troubled. "Listen, the doctors don't know what we do, right? There has to be someone we can call,"
"Right, we'll find some… hoodoo priest and lay some mojo on him," A small smile flickered onto my lips at Sam's words. It was something Dean would say.
"We'll look for someone," John promised us, and we nodded. "But, Sam, Mel… I don't know if we're gonna find anyone," A cold rush of fear shot through my stomach.
"Why not?" I asked, trying to remain optimistic, for if I didn't I thought I may go insane. "Sam and Dean found that faith healer in Nebraska when I was dying,"
"That was one in a million," John told us, and I frowned at his dejected tone.
"So what? We just sit here with our thumbs up our ass?" Sam's voice grew louder as he got angry.
"Sam, calm down," I set a light hand on his shoulder. Now was not the time to start fighting.
"No, I said we'd look, all right?" John corrected his son, getting a tad frustrated. "I'll check under every stone," I took a deep, shaky breath, trying to find comfort in John's answer. "Where's the colt?" His next question made my blood boil. I snapped my eyes to him, a sharp comment ready on my lips, but it died as I saw the look in John's eyes. Fear. Fear and a strange, eerie acceptance that I didn't like.
"Your son is dying and you're worried about the colt?" Sam's calm voice held an undertone of white hot fury.
"We are hunting this demon, and maybe it's hunting us, too," He pointed out, and a shiver ran up my spine. "That gun may be our only card," My eyes flicked back and forth between Sam and John before I sighed.
"It's in the Impala's trunk," I told him, and Sam glanced at me in surprise, making me fix him with a look. "Where else would you have put it?" Sam hadn't told me, but it wasn't like there was many other places that he could've safely hidden it.
"They dragged the car to a yard off of I-83," Sam added, and John nodded, thinking it over for a moment before he spoke.
"All right, you have got to clean out that trunk before some junk man sees what's inside," John ordered brusquely, adopting his drill sergeant tone.
"I already called Bobby. He's like an hour out. He's gonna tow the Impala back to his place," Sam informed both of us. "All right. You go meet up with Bobby. You get that colt and bring it back to me, and you watch out for hospital security," He instructed us, and we nodded.
"We can handle it," Sam told him. I swallowing hard as a hard tug in my gut let me know something was wrong. It had been the first feeling I'd gotten since I'd woken up, and the familiarity of it actually made me feel safer.
"I'm not going," At my words, Sam's eyes found mine, and his confusion cleared. I thought I saw a flicker of sadness in his eyes, but it disappeared to quickly to tell.
"Hey. Here," Sam and I turned from where we'd been about to walk through the doorway. John held out a piece of paper to Sam, who took it cautiously. "I made a list of things I need. Have Bobby pick them up for me,"
"Oil of Abramelin?" I read off the list, frowning. "What do you need this for?"
"Protection," John answered, his eyes meeting mine. Even if I couldn't hear the lie in his voice, I would've known it wasn't for protection. The thing was, I trusted John, and currently his eyes were ordering me not to give him away.
"Hey, Dad," Sam spoke up before I could make any move. "The demon - he said he had plans for us and children like us. You have any idea what he meant by that?"
"No, I don't," Another lie. Sam turned to me, concern flooding his eyes for a moment.
"Get some rest, Mel," I nodded mutely, knowing I most likely wouldn't. "I'm serious. You're not helping him by being exhausted," He took a step towards the door before turning back and handing me my phone. "By the way, Max called. Told me to tell you to call when you woke up,"
"Thanks," I traced Sam's footsteps with my hearing as they walked down the stairs and out the front door. I turned back to face John, shoving the phone in my pocket.
"What was that?" John just looked at me dumbly. "You were lying to him. What do you know that you aren't telling us? What do you need the stuff for?" I fired the questions at John, wincing as a dull throb went through my head.
"I'll explain everything. I promise, but for right now. It's better you don't know," I hesitated, not standing him not telling me something important. "Mel, trust me and go," I exited his room and made my way back to Dean's, ignoring the exhaustion that was seeping through my bones. I sat beside Dean's bed and gently took one of his hands from where they rested atop his stomach, playing with his fingers.
"Okay, you see that pedal right there?" I looked down to see what Dean was referring to before moving my foot to hover over it. "You want to press it all the way and then turn the key," I complied, and the car roared to life, making me smile in excitement. "Step on the brakes," He pointed, and, again, I obliged.
"Okay, now what?" I glanced up at him, smiling widely. He returned the smile before pointing to the shifter.
"Usually, you want it to be in first, but this time you need it in reverse to back out," I covered the top of the shifter with my hand and manipulated it into reverse easily. "Good, now take your foot off the brake and press on the gas gently," The car gave a violent jerk backwards, making me slam down on the break again. "Gently," Dean emphasized with a small laugh.
"I've got it. Don't worry," This time I eased out of the parking space slower. It was my first time driving, and it didn't help that Dean had only driven three times, all of them with John. Dean was three months older than me, so he turned fifteen first, which meant he'd get to learn to drive before I did. John was away and today was my birthday, so Dean was taking me.
"Now shift gears to one," I followed his instructions, and we went all of five miles an hour down the deserted road. I pressed the gas a bit more, releasing the clutch as I did, and we sped up to twenty miles an hour. "Sure you don't want to slow down a bit there, grandma," I couldn't help glancing at Dean just long enough to stick my tongue out at him, making him laugh.
"I'm being safe," I told him, returning my undivided attention to the road.
"Oh, is that what you were doing? I thought you were racing the turtles," I took one hand off the wheel and hit his arm lightly.
"Shut up," Was my reply, which only made him laugh more, and after a moment, I joined in. I went a bit faster, and in a couple minutes, I was going thirty on the road. I knew we would have to go back pretty soon, for the sun was about setting now.
"Okay, turn here," Dean pointed up ahead. "Push the clutch," I obeyed his command without hesitation. "Now downshift into second," I glanced at him, frowning in confusion as the car slowed. He covered my hand with his and guided it into second, making my hand tremble slightly under his touch. We finished the turn, but his hand lingered over mine for a moment longer before he released the shift. "Turn here again," I did, this time on my own, and I couldn't help missing the feel of his hand over mine. "So now-" His instruction was cut off by a loud honking, and I snapped my eyes onto the road, only just realizing I'd been looking at Dean instead of focusing. My mind blanked. Dean grabbed the wheel and yanked it to the side, causing us to skid to the edge of the road and narrowly avoid the speeding car. I slammed on the break, and the car came to a jolting stop. Dean yanked the keys out of the ignition, shutting it off.
"S-sorry," I tried to control my shaky breathing. We'd missed the other car by a hair. If we'd been hit… there was no way we would've survived that. We would've been killed. I almost killed us.
"It's okay. We're fine," I didn't notice Dean had wrapped his arms around my still shaking form until I began to calm down. "We're alive, right? That's what matters," I rested my head against his shoulder, my breathing calming now.
"Let's not tell John," I suggested and felt Dean laugh, his arms still around me. It felt oddly nice to be in his arms.
"No argument here,"
-3rd Person-
"Hey, Dean," Mels began talking softly, and Dean watched her sadly as she toyed with the ring he wore on his finger. "I remember when I gave you that," He smiled at the memory of her giving him the ring for Christmas all those years ago. She turned his hand over and lightly traced the almost invisible scar that ran between his index and middle fingers. "And I remember when you got that," Her voice gained an amused tone, and his smile widened.
"I was being an idiot," He admitted it freely now as he recalled his attempt at cooking. She'd gotten a new boyfriend while they'd been on a hunt up in Connecticut. He was an amazing chef, according to her, and he'd tried to prove to her that anyone could cook. Anyone could not cook.
"You were being an idiot," She ran her finger along the scar as she voiced his words fondly. His heart gave a painful wrench as he saw the small tear making it's way down her cheek. She brushed it away quickly, letting out a small, choked laugh. "God, we're like an episode of Dr. Sexy M.D," Dean chuckled at her words and came to sit beside her on the empty chair.
"Yeah, you'd be the sexy but feisty doctor," He smiled, and she let out a soft laugh that was so well timed that he had to remind himself that she couldn't hear him.
"You know, I never told you this, but my favorite memory is when I saved you from that Wendigo in Montana," She smiled slightly despite the second small tear that travelled down her cheek. "You were a bloody mess, and I probably looked like crap too," Dean swallowed hard, wanting desperately to reach out and comfort her, but he refrained. "It was the first time you told me you loved me," He didn't care anymore; he reached out to brush her face with his hand. It was worse that he'd thought. He could touch her, feel her, but she couldn't feel him. "You promised me that you'd stay alive, and you wouldn't leave me," She took a shaky breath, looking up at his sleeping face. "So you need to wake up, okay?"
"I will, Mels. I swear I'll wake up. Everything's going to be okay," She didn't hear him.
Dean Winchester looked up as his dad rolled into the room in the wheelchair the doctors had insisted on forcing him to use. Mel was asleep with her head on the bed just touching Dean's stomach, and John favored her with a small smile as he caught sight of her sleeping form. He knew she would go to see him before anything. He also knew she had probably forgotten to call Max. The poor kid was probably worried about her. John turned his attention to his son, lying on the bed before him.
"Come on, Dad," Dean spoke quietly as his dad remained silent. "You got to help me," He had to. "I got to get better. I got to get back in there," Dean furrowed his brow as his father didn't respond. "I mean, you haven't called a soul for help. You haven't even tried. Aren't you gonna do anything?" Nothing. "Aren't you even going to say anything?" His dad didn't speak, and Dean felt a dark pit of anger tighten in his stomach. "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? I mean, what the hell kind of father are you?" Then, a low rumbling filled the room, making Dean frown and walk towards the door. He was almost hit by a ghostly, yellowish figure that swooped by, causing him to jerk back. He glanced back at his Dad and Mel. "I take it you didn't see that,"
He walked quickly after the ghostly figure, not knowing where it went exactly but knowing he was headed in the general direction. Something cold flew behind him, and he whipped around to see the thing entering one of the rooms. In the room, a nurse was lying on the floor convulsing.
"Help," She gasped out, and Dean's eyes widened at the sight. He took a step back, so he was in the hallway again.
"Hey! I need some help in here!" He shouted, but no one could hear him. He rushed into the room and knelt by the gasping girl's side.
"I-I c-can-n't b-breathe" She choked out before going still. Dean ran back to the main entrance to see Sam heading up the stairs with a duffel thrown over his shoulder. He stormed into his dad's room furiously, and Dean was surprised to find Mel entering the room as well.
"Sammy, Mel, tell me you two can freaking hear me. There's something in the hospital. Now, you got to bring me back, and we got to hunt this thing," Dean spoke urgently to Sam, who didn't notice him whatsoever. It wasn't until he turned to Mel, who was regarding Sam warily did he realize something was wrong.
"Sam, don't-" She began softly, but Sam whirled around and threw the bag and his father's feet.
"You think I wouldn't find out?" He demanded before turning on Mel. "Did you know about this?"
"Know about what?" She asked, looking surprised and glancing back and forth between John and Sam uncertainly.
"That stuff from Bobby - you don't use it to ward off a demon - you use it to summon one," Both Dean and Mel's eyes jumped to John in shock. "You're planning on bringing the demon here, having some stupid, macho showdown," Sam yelled.
"I have a plan, Sam," John tried to reason with him as Sam leaned over the hospital bed.
"That's exactly my point!" Sam shouted, getting angrier by the second.
"Sam!" Mel managed to get in front of him and place both hands on his chest, pushing him back.
"No, Mel! How can you be okay with this? Dean is dying, and he has a plan!" He glared accusingly at John over Mel's shoulder. "You know what?" He turned back to John. "You care more about killing this demon than you do about saving your own son,"
"No, no, no. Guys, don't do this," Dean saw the argument unfold as Sam stalked around Mel to get to his dad.
"Do not tell me how I feel. I am doing this for Dean," John's voice rose as well, and Sam scoffed skeptically.
"Sam, just back off, all right?" Mel tried again to stop the yelling match, but her attempt was weak and her exhaustion apparent in her voice.
"How? How is revenge going to help him? You're not thinking about anybody but yourself. It's the same selfish obsession," Sam was undoubtedly shouting now. "Open your eyes! You almost shot Mel!"
"I didn't shoot her! I couldn't!" John snapped back, and Dean saw Mel's wide eyes as she stopped intervening.
"Come on, guys. Don't do this," Dean begged them, even though no one could hear.
"You pointed the gun!" Sam yelled. "You're obsessed!"
"That's funny," Sarcasm dripped from John's voice as he spoke the words. "You know what, I thought this was your obsession, too. This demon killed your mother, killed your girlfriend. You begged to be a part of this hunt," Mel didn't have the strength to stand anymore and sunk into a chair, massaging her temples; the yelling was making her head pound like a drum.
"Enough!" She mustered the last of her power to project it into that word. "You should've just killed the god damned thing when you had the chance," She sounded dejected and tired as she said the words, and Dean's heart hurt to watch her this broken.
"It was possessing you, Mel. He would've killed you, too," Sam argued, and Mel's eyes flashed.
"At least Dean would be awake!" Mel cried throwing her hands into the air, emotion boiling over.
"We should've killed it-" John began, but Sam didn't give him a chance to finish.
"Go to hell," Whatever his dad had been going to say to Mel was gone as he turned back to Sam furiously.
"I should have never taken you along in the first place. I knew it was a mistake," Dean's eyes flicked between John and Sam and then to Mel, who was sitting in the chair, massaging her temples.
"I said 'shut up'!" Mel's head snapped up as Dean knocked the glass of water off the table, causing it to shatter on the floor. Silence. "Dude, I full-on swayzed that mother," Mel's eyes fixed on him then, as if she was looking right at him.
"Mel? Mel, can you hear me?" He was around the table in a heartbeat and in front of her, but her eyes were still fixed on the point he had been moments before. She couldn't see him. Suddenly, there was another low rumbling, and Dean doubled over, clutching his heart and gasping as pain jolted through it. Mel turned with a frown of confusion before it cleared and turned into horror. She was out the door in an instant, leaving Sam to run after her.
-1st Person-
I reached the door as fast as I could, and what I saw inside caused my blood to run cold. There was a crash cart in Dean's room, and a doctor was rubbing the two paddles together before placing them on Dean's chest.
"Clear!" Sam was behind me now, looking into the room. I couldn't tear my eyes from Dean's still face. I needed him. He couldn't die; I still needed him. I needed his smile and his laugh and his stupid, smartass comments. I needed him to hold me and to kiss me and to tell me everything was okay.
"Oh, god," I didn't know if I was whispering aloud or not. "Oh, god, please no. Please,"
"Still no pulse," He didn't have a heartbeat. I kept my eyes on Dean's face, as if somehow that would keep him alive - keep him from leaving me.
"Melody Scott, would you to go to prom with me?" As I took the rose from his hand, a smile spread across my lips, but it quickly turned into a confused frown.
"I thought you didn't like prom," I remembered his words from earlier that month.
"I like you," He responded, leaning down to cover my lips with his.
"Okay, let's go again," The erratic beeping of the heart monitor filled my ears as the doctor called out, "360," The paddles were pressed to Dean's chest, and I prayed for them to work. I didn't even freaking believe in anything, but I prayed. His back arched as the shock was administered. He couldn't be dead. I would fall apart if he died.
"Still no pulse," I let out a choked sob as I kept my eyes on his face. He couldn't leave me. He'd promised. He'd promised he'd stay alive. I couldn't do this without him.
"Please, god," I whispered between choked breaths. "Please, please don't let him die. I need him,"
"It came at me, and it opened its mouth like it's about to eat me," I explained, shivering as I remembered the dream. "Then I woke up," We lay on the hood, looking up at the stars. I'd had a nightmare, so Dean took me on a night drive.
"It won't happen," He spoke with confidence, and I glanced up at him with curious surprise.
"How do you know?" He propped himself up on his elbow, so he could gaze down at me with a smirk.
"Cause I'll protect you. As long as I'm here, nothing will ever hurt you," And I believed him.
"Clear!" His back arched more this time with the bigger charge.
"No pulse," It felt as though someone had filled my lungs with plaster; I couldn't breathe. Please, don't take him. Distantly, I could feel the tears making hot trails down my face, but I couldn't focus on anything but Dean.
"I'm serious, Dean. That was reckless and stupid," In answer, Dean slung an arm over my shoulder with a grin that could light up the world on his face.
"Were you worried?" I turned my eyes on him without laughing at his tease.
"Yeah, I was," I confessed, and he stopped, studying me for a moment.
"Well, I wasn't," My eyebrows rose at his statement. "You know why?"
"Why?" This should be good. How could you justify using yourself as live bait for a werewolf when you have seventeen year-old as backup? Nothing he could say would make me cease being mad at him.
"Because I knew my beautiful, badass girlfriend had my back," Except maybe that.
"Starting CPR!" I let out a gut wrenching sob, my eyes still fixed on his unmoving face. He was going to be okay. He had to be okay.
"I said get back!" It was Dean's voice, and my breathing stopped altogether. Something freezing cold brushed me on my right, but I barely noticed. All I could hear was the beep. And then the second beep. And the third.
"We have a pulse. We're back into sinus rhythm," My legs no longer held me up, and I slid to the ground, taking Sam with me. My breath came in short, ragged gasps as I struggled to calm myself.
-3rd Person-
"Mel, he's okay," Dean slowly approached the doorway again, and his heart felt as though it was getting ripped out of his chest as he saw Mel, with her back pressed against the wall, trembling like a leaf. "Mel, it's going to be okay, all right? Dean's alive. He'll be okay," Dean knelt in front of her, hating how helpless he felt.
"Don't worry, Mels. I'm not going anywhere. I'm getting that thing before it get's me," It felt better to talk to her, even if she couldn't hear him. It helped him think. He reached out to brush a tear from her face, but his hand paused before being lowered again. He had to focus on this son of a bitch, and then he could be with her again. "It's some kind of spirit, but I could grab it, and if I can grab it, I can kill it," As much as Dean hated the thought, he knew he had to leave Mel and Sam to look for the thing that had almost killed him. He pressed a kiss that she couldn't feel into her hair before walking quickly through the hallways, away from his family.
"Can't you see me?! Why won't you look at me?!" Dean frowned in confusion as he heard a woman's voice screaming from his right. He rolled his eyes as he began to head in that direction.
"Now what?" He grumbled as he made it to the stairs only to stop short in surprise. A woman with short black hair and fair skin was yelling at everyone who passed her, only no one seemed to take any notice of her.
"Somebody talk to me! Say something, please!" She begged them, but they just walked past without glancing at her.
"Can you see me?" Dean called, almost excited at the idea of someone who he could actually talk to.
"Yeah," He ascended the steps to where she was as she turned to face him.
"All right, just calm down," He instructed, trying to retain some composure. "What's your name?"
"Tessa," She answered, her voice shaking.
"Okay, good, Tessa. I'm Dean," He introduced himself, hoping it would help calm her down.
"What's happening to me?" She questioned, fear evident on her face. Dean didn't have an answer for her. "Am I - Am I dead?"
"That sort of depends," He answered and saw her eyebrows draw together in confusion. "What room where you in?" Tessa brushed past him without responding, and he followed without question. They came to a halt in front of room 203 where Tessa's body was lying on a bed with a woman holding her hand.
"I don't understand. I just came in for an appendectomy," She couldn't tear her eyes off her own body as she spoke in confusion.
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but… I think there were some complications," He stated the obvious as the woman clutched Tessa's hand tighter, crying a bit.
"It's just as dream, that's all. This is just a very weird, unbelievably vivid dream," She tried to convince herself as she faced Dean again.
"Tessa, it's not a dream," How he wished it was a dream,
"Then what else could it be?" She inquired, looking up at him.
"You ever heard of an out-of-body experience?" He asked, knowing this was going to be a lot for her to take in. Hell, it was a lot for him to take in, and he had been around the supernatural his entire life.
"What are you, some new-agey guy?" He scoffed at her remark.
"You see me messing with crystals or listening to yanni?" His question was rhetorical, and she didn't answer. "It's actually a very old idea. It's got a lot of different names - bilocation, crisis apparition, fetches. I think it's happening to us. If it is… it means that we're spirits… of people close to death,"
"So we're gonna die?" She looked back at the woman by her bed as she spoke the words.
"No. Not if we hold on," He gained determination as he spoke. "Our bodies can get better. You can snap right back in their and wake up," The two spirits walked down the hallway, away from her room. "I got to say, I'm impressed," He spoke up, and he was. Most people would have freaked out by now. Total meltdown.
"With what?" She questioned, glancing at him.
"You," He replied, not looking at her. "Most people in your spot would be jello by now, but you're taking this pretty well, maybe a little better than me," Dean remembered when he'd first realized what was happening.
"Don't get me wrong - I was pretty freaked at first, but now I don't know. Maybe I'm dealing," She shrugged, keeping her eyes on Dean.
"So you're okay with dying?" Disbelief lined his words.
"No, of course not," She scoffed. "I just think whatever's gonna happen is gonna happen. It's out of my control. It's just fate," Dean took in her words for a second, nodding.
"Well, that's crap. You always have a choice. You can either roll over and die, or you can keep fighting no matter what," Suddenly, doctors and nurses began running past him, and he frowned, starting after them.
"Dean, where are you going?" He ignored her question, holding up a hand to stop her.
"Just wait here," He froze in the doorway of the room to see the ghost that had been above him above a young woman. "Get away from her!" He made a lunge, but the creature disappeared.
"Okay, call it," The doctor looked sadly at one of the nurses.
"Time of Death: 5:11 PM," The nurse's voice was a monotone, and Dean shook his head, taking a step back.
"At least she's not suffering anymore,"
-1st Person-
"You said so yourself, Mel. You felt something. You heard him," I bit my lip as we walked into Dean's room.
"Yeah, but, Sam, a ouija board?" Sam didn't respond as we walked up to Dean's bed.
"Hey, Dean," I smiled softly dow at the sleeping form, trying my utmost to keep my throat from closing. "We think that you're here. You know, as a spirit, so we picked up something that might help,"
"Don't make fun of us for this, but, um," He took out the 'magical talking board', and I could practically feel Dean rolling his eyes. We walked to the foot of the bed and sat down on the floor, setting up the board. "Dean?" Sam took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. I couldn't even believe we were doing this. A week ago we would've laughed at the very idea of this game. "Dean, are you here?" I placed the fingers of my two hands lightly on the board next to Sam's, and then it slowly started moving. My breath caught. Yes. "Oh, it's good to hear from you, man," Sam spoke up as I swallowed hard. "It hasn't been the same without you," I opened my mouth to speak, but the thing began moving again.
"'H'…'U'… hunt," I guessed easily, and the piece moved to yes. "There's a hunt here?" I questioned, and the thing remained on yes. "What is it?" I couldn't stop the questions from pouring out. I was just so relieved to finally be talking to him, even if I couldn't really hear him. R. A bad feeling twisted my stomach. E. A. P. "Reaper," I whispered, but I had freaked out enough for one day.
"Dean, is it after you?" I couldn't breathe as the small, wooden pointer moved to yes. "If it's here naturally, there's no way to stop it," Sam spoke softly, and I hated the words. "Man, you're, uh…"
"No," I found my voice and shook my head. "There has to be something we can do," I racked my brain for a moment before one name came to mind, and I looked at Sam. "John," I spoke the name at the same time Sam said, "Dad," We walked into John's room to find it empty with the sheets rumpled.
"Dad?" Sam questioned with no response. I frowned, closing my eyes and sweeping the hospital for John's voice while I tried desperately to ignore the throbbing that began beating in my head as I concentrated. Then, I found him, and my blood ran cold.
"Shit," It was one word. One small, barely audible word, but I heard it and it was John. He was in the basement of the hospital. Why was he in the basement?
"John's journal," I picked the thing up off the bed and handed it to Sam. "Go back to Dean's room and flip through it. Maybe one of you will find something," It felt weird referring to a currently sleeping Dean as awake, but I didn't have time to dwell on the feeling.
"What about you?" Sam's eyebrows were raised questioningly as he accepted the book. I didn't even pause in my strides towards the door.
"I have to check on something," I left before Sam could utter another word.
-3rd Person-
"Where's Mel?" Dean asked his brother as Sam came back into the room with a familiar, leather book clutched in his hands. Sam sat on the side of his bed, next to his body and opened the book.
"Hey, so Dad wasn't in his room. I think Mel went to find him," Dean pushed off the wall he'd been leaning on as he detected the uncertainty in Sam's voice. "But I got Dad's journal, so who knows? Maybe there's something in here," Sam flipped through the pages as Dean came to stand on the opposite side of his bed.
"Thanks for not giving up on me, Sammy," Dean spoke softly, glancing at his own sleeping face before turning his attention to the page Sam had found. Reapers. His eyes were drawn to one specific paragraph, and he leaned closer to get a better look. Everything clicked into place. "Son of a bitch," He stormed out of the room and down the hallway, knowing exactly where he needed to go next. The room was empty except for one black haired woman leaning against the bed. She gazed at his furious expression tranquilly with her hands folded in her lap.
"Hi, Dean," She greeted, and he surpressed the anger as he walked into the room.
"You know, you read the most interesting things," He began, taking measured steps towards Tessa, who was sitting on the bed. "For example, did you know that reapers can alter human perception? I sure didn't," The reaper didn't respond. "Basically they can make themselves appear however they want… like, say, a pretty girl," He stopped pacing and faced her. "You're much prettier than the last reaper I met,"
"I was wondering when you'd figure it out," She mused quietly.
"I should've known," He reflected, beginning to pace again. "That whole 'accepting fate' rap of yours is far too laid-back for a dead-girl, but, you know, the mother and the body. I'm still trying to figure that one out,"
"It's my sandbox," The reaper explained calmly. "I can make you see whatever I want,"
"What is this, like a turn-on for you, huh? Toying with me?" He demanded, and she shrugged smally.
"You didn't give me much choice," She defended herself. "You saw my true form, and you flipped out. Kind of hurts a girl's feelings. This was the only way I could get you to talk to me,"
"Okay, fine. We're talking. What the hell do you want to talk about?" He questioned, trying to stay calm as the reaper stood.
"How death is nothing to fear. It's your time to go, Dean, and you're living on borrowed time already," She reached up and touched his face gently, ignoring how he flinched away from her fingers. He gasped as a cold chill ran through him.
-1st Person-
I sprinted through the hospital, taking the stairs two at a time. Normally, I wouldn't have been so worried about John, but something inside me was screaming at me that he was in mortal danger. After the second flight of stairs, it was a short run to reach the door of the basement. Blood pounded in my ears, and my heart beat in my throat as I sprinted. Something was very wrong. John was making a horrible choice, and as much as I tried, I couldn't figure out what it was. I just knew he was. In front of me, I could hear his deep throated voice beginning an incantation in latin just as I slammed into the door, throwing it open.
"John!" He whirled to face me, his face betraying his shock at me finding him. My gaze slid past him to settle on the white chalked symbol on the floor along with the bowl of ingredients in front of him.
"What are you doing here?" John demanded gruffly, and I crossed my arms over my chest.
"I could ask you the same thing," We faced each other in a deadlock for a moment before finally he let out a broken sigh.
"I have to do this, Mel," His voice was resigned and defeated, which scared me more than I could put into words.
"What is 'this'?" His gaze dropped to the symbol on the floor before he met my eyes again.
"You have to go back upstairs," He ignored my question, and I opened my mouth to protest, but he continued before I could. "I'm saving Dean's life,"
"Don't do anything stupid, John," I warned him, and he held up the colt that he carried in his left arm.
"I'm going to trade this for Dean's life," He confessed, and I could hear the truth in his words. Something was still off. I frowned at him but finally accepted his answer. "You have to go back upstairs. It's the way these things work," I took a hesitant step towards the door before glancing back at John.
"You're sure you're alright?" He smiled softly at me, and there was a hint of sorrowful pride in his eyes as he nodded.
"Mel," His voice stopped me, and I turned back to face him questioningly. "I've always thought of you like a daughter, you know that," I frowned, opening my mouth to tell him that I knew, but he didn't let me. "Dean - he takes care of this family, and you take care of him. He needs you - they both do,"
"I know, John. I'm not going anywhere," I reassured him, starting to worry a bit.
"I know," He smiled, but it was a strained, sad smile. "But, Mel, if you can't take care of them anymore, you have to leave them," My eyes widened.
"W-what are you talking about?" He just shook his head, a small tear making it's way down his face.
"You'll find out soon enough. Just remember what I said. You should go. Dean will be waking up soon," He told me. There was no way in hell I was leaving now. He seemed to read my mind, for his next words left me no choice but to turn around and go back the way I'd come. "If you don't leave, Dean will die," I swallowed hard before letting the door swing shut behind me. I didn't know what to do, so I walked back up to Dean's room, but stopped short as I heard Sam's voice from inside.
"You can't leave me and Mel here alone with Dad. Mel will try to help, but Dad and I will kill each other. You know that. Dean, you got to hold on. You can't go, man, not now. We were just starting to be brothers again," I leaned against the doorway, watching Sam talk to the sleeping Dean. "Can you hear me?" His voice broke, and he glanced, finally seeing me. He roughly brushed a tear from his eye and sniffled. I crossed the room to wrap my arms around Sam as he shook.
"It's going to be alright, Sammy. He'll make it," I promised him, desperately trying to ignore the persistent tug in my gut.
-3rd Person-
"Look, I'm sure you've heard this before, but… you got to make an exception. You got to cut me a break," Dean pleaded with the reaper.
"Stage three - bargaining," Dean turned away from the window to look at the reaper in disbelief.
"I'm serious," A vivid image of Mel's devastated face as he flatlined flashed through his mind. "My family is in danger. See, we're kind of in the middle of this, uh…war. And they need me,"
"The fight's over," She informed him apathetically.
"No it isn't," He argued.
"It is for you," She spoke with quiet conviction.
"I have to protect them," He disagreed passionately, and she shook her head.
"You can't," She met his eyes surely. "If this is about Melody, you can't," His heart tightened when she spoke her name, unknowingly hardening his resolve. "You can't save her," He frowned at those familiar words… that voice. You can't save her. His dream. His eyes widened at the realization. She'd been the voice in those dreams telling him to give up.
"It was you," His face twisted with anger, and he started towards her.
"No, it wasn't," She shook her head again, and he frowned in confusion. "He was using my voice. There are plans for her, Dean. Plans that you're not a part of," He opened his mouth to ask what the hell she was talking about, but she simply continued without pausing to explain. "Dean, you're not the first soldier I've plucked from the field. They all feel the same. They all have wives, girlfriends, families that they need to go back to. They all feel they can't leave. Victory hangs in the balance, but they're wrong. The battle goes on without them,"
"No," Dean denied. "My brother, Mel, they could die without me,"
"Maybe they will, maybe they won't. Nothing you can do about it," Dean couldn't stand looking at her anymore and walked a short distance away. "It's an honorable death, a warrior's death,"
"I think I'll pass on the seventy-two virgins, thanks," Dean smartassed. It was the only way he could think of to stall what was coming. "I have a girlfriend, anyway,"
"That's funny. You're very cute. I can see why she likes you," The reaper spoke in the same monotone.
"There's no such thing as an honorable death. My corpse is gonna rot in the ground, and my family is gonna die," He shook his head as the horror of that set in. "No," He flat out refused. "I'm not going with you. I don't care what you do,"
"Well, like you said… there's always a choice. I can't make you come with me. Look, you're not getting back in your body, and that's just facts. So, yes, you can stay. You'll stay here for years - disembodied, scared, watching the people you love grow old without you. Over the decades, it'll probably drive you mad. Maybe you'll even get violent, hurt someone you care about," He frowned as her words sunk in.
"What are you saying?" He questioned warily.
"Dean, how do you think angry spirits are born? They can't let go, and they can't move on, and you're about to become one - the same thing you hunt," Dean sat down heavily on the bed, and the reaper sat next to him. "She wouldn't want that for you. She'd want you to put the pain behind you,"
"And go where?" His voice was hoarse as he asked the question weakly. Either way, he was screwed. Watching the people you love grow old without you. Her words rang in his head. He couldn't watch Mel grow old, find someone else, have a family, all while he stayed the same. He just couldn't do that. He would go mad.
"Sorry," The reaper spoke softly. "I can't give away the big punch line," There was a moment of silence before she spoke again. "Moment of truth. No changing your mind later. So what's it going to be?" He took a deep breath and turned to face her, and then the lights began to flicker. He stood, looking around warily before fixing his eyes on Tessa.
"What're you doing that for?" She looked at him, just as miffed as he was.
"I'm not doing it," Suddenly, black smoke began billowing from the air vent in the corner of the room.
"What the hell?" Dean muttered as the stuff crawled towards Tessa.
"You can't do this!" She cried, showing more emotion than Dean had seen since he'd met the reaper. "Get away!"
"What's happening?" Her only reply was a piercing scream as the black smoke jammed it's way down her throat. The scream abruptly cut off, and she whipped her head around to fix her bright, yellow eyes on Dean.
"Today's your lucky day, kid," The possessed reaper put a hand on Dean's forehead, and he gasped as a bolt of pain shot through him.
-1st Person-
I gazed down at Dean's hand in mine. It had been two days since the accident. The most stressful two days of my life, and now, hopefully, they'd be over in a couple of moments. John had said he was going to trade the gun for Dean's life, that had been a few minutes ago. Why wasn't he awake already? Maybe it hadn't worked. Maybe the demon had got out. Then, Dean let out a gasp that made me jump.
"Dean!" Sam and I exclaimed at the same time. His hand tightened around mine, and I hovered over him, placing the hand that wasn't in his softly on his cheek. "Sam, get a nurse," I ordered, glancing up before my eyes found Dean's very much alive face. A nurse rushed in and pushed me off the bed, causing my hand to be ripped from Dean's.
"I can't explain it. The adhema's vanished. The internal contusions are healed. Your vitals are good. You got to have some kind of angel watching over you," I felt as though for the first time in three days, I could breathe again
"Thanks, doc," Dean thanked him, and the doctor left with a nod.
"You said a reaper was after me?" Dean questioned us. We'd taken turns filling him in on what had happened while he was in the coma. Apparently, he didn't remember any of it.
"Yeah," Sam responded, nodding.
"How did I ditch it?" He asked, and Sam and I shrugged.
"You got me," Sam replied while I stayed silent. Something inside me told me it wasn't a good idea to tell them about the colt just yet.
"Dean, are you sure you don't remember anything?" I was surprised that he didn't even remember bits of what had happened.
"No," He shook his head, sounding confused. "Except this pit in my stomach. Guys, something's wrong," His eyes turned to me, pleading with me to believe him. "Don't you feel it?" Before I could answer, there was a knock on the door.
"How you feeling, Dean?" John stood there, his arm in a sling, smiling at his son.
"Fine, I guess," Dean replied hesitantly. "I'm alive,"
"That's what matters," I had never agreed more with anything John had said.
"Where were you last night?" Sam demanded, anger seeping into his voice.
"I had some things to take care of," He answered ambiguously, glancing at me before looking back at Sam.
"Well, that's specific," Sam quipped sarcastically.
"Come on, Sam," Dean groaned.
"Did you go after the demon?" He questioned, and John's eyes dropped to the ground.
"Sam, let it go," I put the hand that wasn't in Dean's on his arm to stop him from moving towards John.
"No," John replied dully.
"You know, why don't I believe you right now?" Sam snapped.
"Can we not fight?" John asked, and my eyes snapped to him. Something was not right. "You know, half the time we're fighting, I don't even know what we're fighting about. We're just butting heads. Look, Sammy, I've… I've made some mistakes, but I've always done the best I could. I just don't want to fight anymore, okay?"
"Dad, are you alright?" Sam's voice softened to a concerned, almost scared tone.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm just a little tired. Hey, would you mind, uh - would you mind getting me a cup of caffeine," Sam and I understood he wanted to talk to Dean alone.
"Yeah, of course," I squeezed Dean's hand lightly before getting up and walking towards the door with Sam.
"Could you…" Sam started, but I already knew where his head was at.
"I'm not going to eavesdrop on John and Dean's conversation," Sam let out a frustrated huff at my words, and we walked in silence for a few more moments.
"He's alright," Sam spoke the words, and I let out a small laugh. "He's really alright,"
"Yeah," But something told me that that might not be the case. "What are you going to do now?" I glanced at him, and he looked thoughtful for a moment.
"What do you mean?" He asked, and I rolled my eyes at him. "I'll hunt the demon with you, Dean, and Dad," We ordered the coffee and waited for the woman to finish making it.
"No more college?" I questioned, knowing what his answer would be, but needing him to say it anyway. I needed him to assure me that he still had plans to go back. He still had plans to live a normal life.
"I don't know," He confessed. That wasn't the answer I'd been hoping for. "I'm still thinking about college, you know. Law school is still there," The woman handed us our coffee, and we walked through the hallway back to Dean's room. I glanced to the right and stopped short, grabbing Sam's jacket.
"Sam!" I ran into the room and knelt by the figure lying motionlessly on the floor. Sam was beside me in an instant. I think he was screaming. I couldn't tell. There was no pulse. I couldn't hear a pulse. More people were arriving.
"Get him onto the bed!" I wasn't sure who yelled it, but he was being ripped away from Sam and I. Sam turned me to face him and shook me a bit.
"I'm going to get Dean," I nodded mutely, and he ran out the door. My eyes fell on the man lying limply on the bed. John Winchester, my second father, the man who'd raised me, didn't have a pulse. I gripped the door frame as the nurse came towards me, trying to shoo me out.
"I'm sorry but you have to leave," She told me, and I shook my head at her without tearing my eyes from where the doctors were doing compressions on John. The nurse grabbed my arm in an attempt to pull me out.
"Get off of her! No, no, no. It's our dad. It's our dad!" Dean. He was next to me now, but I still couldn't bring myself to look away from John's limp body.
"Okay. Let's try again. An amp of atropine," The doctor ordered, and the nurses complied while I stood their helplessly.
"Come on," Dean muttered, and I felt tears start to prick at my eyes as my heart ached.
"Please," I whispered despairingly as the nurse pushed the needle into the tube. No response. The erratic beeping of the monitor continued.
"Okay, stop compression," The mask was removed from John's face, and the woman standing beside him checked his neck. I didn't need to hear what she said; my ears already told me all I needed to know. "Okay, that's it everybody. I'll call it," Don't say it. Please, god, don't say it. "Time of death - 10:41 A.M.," I turned into Dean's chest, letting the tears flow, and I felt his arm go around me numbly as his forehead pressed against my hair. John Winchester was dead.