It was a normal, ordinary day for Dean Winchester. Which was weird. He was taking a little time off at the moment, and since Sammy was at Stanford and he was congratulating himself on a hunt well done, he figured, well, hey, a little time to himself wouldn't be that bad.
He crossed the street. Man, he should have reinforced the laws of the big mean world that were taught to all children at a young age. He should have checked for cars. But, he was a bit preoccupied and hadn't looked for one time, just one singular time in his life. He should have. Maybe things would be different that way. Luck has its factors when you're a Winchester.
A sudden hit out of nowhere. And then hurt, and pain. Dean feels that first. Sudden, blinding pain in his side, along with all of the oxygen in him going out with an oomph! on his behalf and a gasp for air that could only be compared with that of a fish out of water. 'No no no no no no- dammit!' he thinks, trying to pull himself up from his fallen position as the world around him spins. The sky above looks so dreadful and frightening above him. He slumps back down, feeling the weight of his legs giving out and fading. Blinding pain is slowly cascading over him and he vaguely, in the back of his head, begins to reinforce his father's training.
One fractured spine to go, with a side order of four shattered ribs and a punctured lung and oh god he could smell the blood everywhere. Was it just blood? Whose was it? Was it his? Was this the real life? Or was this just fantasy? All these questions just cruelly popping into Dean's face and panicked, shocked mind.
He's vaguely aware of the driver of the car that hit him fretting around. "Oh my god! Are you okay?" It sounds like a lady. A pretty lady. Wow, what an awful way to go. Taunted by the fact that he can't see her face in a fading world. All he can see now is the sky. The red and purple hues of a new day. Or was it a sundown? Or is it all just red? He can't tell anymore.
"Stay with me! I'm calling an ambulance- oh my god!" she says. He catches a glimpse of the taunting face behind the voice. Short hair, strawberry- blonde, a black tank top with a denim jacket, and jeans... If he could see her face. That voice was taunting him. He resigns himself, looking up at the sky. A singular tear runs down his face as he feels his arms giving out and the world comes running down his face. 'I'm so sorry Sammy...'
He's not giving up that easily though. He's Dean Winchester. One does not simply give up when you're Dean.
He tries to force his now numbly fading body back into existence. 'It wasn't supposed to be this way, Sammy,' he thinks. Dean gasps for breath. He has to stay alive, he has to protect Sammy. No no no no no no- he can't go like this! Hit by a car? What sort of lame excuse is that? He was better than this- He was gonna stay awake- he has to be there for Sam- He can faintly hear the sirens of an ambulance and onlookers chattering in horror as he sees a looming darkness everywhere. "You're gonna be okay, I promise!" he hears. It's a faint voice now. " Someone get him inside the-"
He sighed, a last puff of air releasing itself from his body, as a means of final release in a way.
And that was it as the darkness closed in.
It gets better. Trust me.
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