Everything around you was out of focus, but you knew you can't stop. You felt like you were on drugs, but you don't remember taking or injecting anything. You weren't even euphoric, just dizzy. You stumbled, but you got back up, bracing yourself against the wall. You didn't have any idea what was going on or where you were, only that you needed to get out of harm's way.
'You don't belong here.' The voice in your head booming, words overlapping. 'Angels...Winchesters...Magic...'
Tears were rolling down your face. What is going on? You knew you were hurt; there was so much blood, but you can't feel the pain thanks to the adrenaline pumping. "Who?! What?!" You yelled back, but there was only silence. The darkness was overwhelming and before you knew it, you stumbled yet again, adding and opening the countless cuts on your left palm.
'Get up, y/n.' The voice in your head rang again. Anger was starting to boil within you and your vision was getting worse. Rather than let unconsciousness envelop you, you harnessed the rage and pulled yourself off the ground by grabbing onto the wall.
You scrambled to find some kind of sanctum, anything to help you figure what's what. You may have found it because before you fainted, you remembered smelling gunpowder and soap.
"Really, Dean? Two whole pies?!" He rolled his eyes with disgust as he opened the car door. They just finished eating at some diner and here was Dean with dessert. "You know, that's going straight to your heart, right?!" The shorter of the two just hmphed and handed the pies to his companion before starting the car. As soon as it came to life, Dean felt safe.
"That's my Baby," he whispered as he pulled out of the parking lot. The black '67 Chevy Impala roared in response. To some, a car is just a thing. To Dean, it was more than that. To him, this was a family heirloom his dad left him and he took care of Baby, a name he gave the impala, ever since.
"What can I say? I love pies, Sammy. Price for saving the world." The one named Sammy just shook his head with disbelief, accompanied by a smile. He did agree with Dean, though. They have saved humanity a few times over. Dean used to say that he deserved many more since he killed Hitler. Aging had made him wiser.
"So," he looked at the pie and saw a name on the top with a phone number. "...Ilana felt compelled to 'pay' you." Drawing quotation marks in the air.
Dean shrugged and smirked. This was not an uncommon occurrence. Everywhere they went, he was always surrounded by women ready to do anything until the break of dawn. "Can't fault me if they find this irresistible. I am, after all, adorable."
Rather than stroke his ego any further, the man with the shoulder-length hair rested his head on the window and let sleep take over him. It had been a long and exhausting weekend and all he wanted was his bed and pillow.
"...you gotta respond to these women, Sammy." Dean continued on, walking down memory lane and some of these 'occurrences' were oh so juicy. "Sam, are you listening?" When his passenger didn't respond, he took a quick glance. "Bastard." He, too, was drained and all he could think of were his pies and beer...and maybe a prank. "One more hour..." he exasperated, cranking his tunes to AC/DC's Highway to Hell.
You drew in a sharp breath, prompting you to open your eyes. You didn't have any recollection on how you got there, but there you were. Slowly getting up, which was excruciating, you looked around. Nothing there; only darkness and the smell of stale air. Suddenly, flickering candles surrounded you, which kicked in your fight or flight response. To make matters worse, video clips started playing everywhere and the main star was you. All the voices were overlapping that it began to drive you crazy.
"Wh-what's going on?!" You asked with fear in your voice, twirling taking in everything you can. "Make it stop, please!" Rather than wait for a response, you decided to run. But no matter how far you ran, there were no exits in sight.
"Hello?! Can you hear me?! I know you can see me. Answer me!" Still, nothing. 'This isn't the time to breakdown, Y/N.' You harshly scolded yourself. You didn't have the faintest clue as to how you could've let this happen.
Before you can delve any deeper, you heard a familiar voice, screaming, "Wake up!" Next thing you knew, there was a gun staring back at you.