Chapter 2

The Animal that Runs Inside You

Dean woke to tiles racing above his head and, urgent muffled voices filling his ears.

He looked over to see the stretcher that wobbled beneath him as they rushed down a hallway that seemed to last for eternity.

Wouldn't take a genius to figure out that he was in a freaking hospital.

When he finally settled in his room he got a wind of a "Sir?"

The rumble of words uttered surprise and bemusement.

Dean turned his head to find the voices owner putting something in his I.V.

His sight shaded with murkiness and early nightfall.

"What did you do?" His question splattered like paint on a canvas.

"Dean, it's just Xanax, it will help you calm down."

Sam's reassuring tone held muted fear and angst inside its contents.

"Sam, I know what freaking Xanax is. Don't waste your damn breath," he grumbled at an attempt to make things sound normal.

He failed.

While Sam chuckled he almost instantly threw a serious countenance and pasted it on his face. "Everything is going to be fine, I promise."

Sam placed a hand on the back of Deans neck.

"I know Sammy," he sighed and let the darkness of unconsciousness take him and bury him in sleep.

Next time wakefulness found him his head was pounding along with throbbing legs, shoulder and aching feet.

His hand automatically went to his head and came back sticky with blood.

"Damn what happened," he asked the empty air. Not really expecting an answer which is why he started when a low hum mumbled

"I don't know Dean no one does."

Dean glanced over to pinpoint Sam hunched over in a chair.

Eyes bloodshot and carried bags under their hazel wonder.

He had a bandage on his arm with red showing through.

"Sam?

Are you okay?" He leaned over when a silver glitter caught his eye and aimed it towards the floor below.

A small knife was lying on the ground, completely covered in blood.

He found it was nearly exactly in line with a blood soaked hand he had hanging off the bed.

Dean looked at Sam with so much horror and disbelief it was pitiful.

"Did I do that to you?" He heard himself murmur quietly.

Sam looked at him with hesitation and deep guilt.

"Sammy? Did I hurt someone,"

His whisper and little louder then before.

Then Dean noticed the woman.

She stood behind Sam's chair and bore a such serene expression it relaxed him a little as well.

It was the one who put him in this damn hospital in the first place.

Her shimmering blue eyes were so profound, so pure.

So unnatural.

A long sea blue dress guided down to the cold floor.

Black hair that floated to her waist flowed in a breeze that wasn't there.

"When you tire and fold your inner animal is unleashed and comes out to play with the knife, twisted deep in your soul.

It will play until you break and your heart can no longer go on and take the weight."

Her voice left the tables around him trembling like frightened deer caught in the headlights.

Sam got up and stared at Dean with astonishment.

"Dean?" His voice was questioning and on the verge of panic.

"And with each passing bout I possess more of you then your spirit can manage.

You will crumble.

You will bleed.

You will burn."

With that her eyes flashed and blended to gold and she lunged at him.

He felt something trickle down his chin.

A black cloud drifted at the edge of his vision.

Tiredness blew into his chest and his eyelids drooped.

"DEAN!" Was the last thing he heard as he faded into oblivion.