Thanks again to Alyssa Ray!

Dean's POV

I hate fire. Fire destroyed my life, it stole my home and it claimed the body of my mother. Flames burst through the wooden shutters of the crone's cabin, smoke billowed everywhere. Nevertheless I kicked down the door, my baby sister was trapped. I saved her from fire before, and I would do it again. That kid means everything to me, I wasn't gonna loose her. There was no way in hell I was gonna let the smoke and flames take her away from me.

I discovered her laying in a heap, covered in soot. Her breathing was shallow and she made no movements at all. Shit! As the flames increased in height and heat, I scooped my motionless sister before charging out the cabin at full speed. I ran like there was no freakin' tomorrow, carrying Chrissie in my arms and once we ventured a certain distance from the now destroyed cabin, Chrissie started to cough. This signaled me to stop, giving me the chance to crouch down on my knees and hold her close to my chest. The pain in my leg burned, I had forgotten about the stab wound the old bitch delivered.

She wriggled and wheezed, her eyes slowly creaking open. Sweat trickled down her face. The kid tried to speak but her voice was raw and she continued to cough.

"Shhh baby girl, I got you," I hushed, giving her a small peck on the forehead "No talking, you need to save your oxygen."

This was bad, she was in life threatening shape at this point. Determined to do anything I could for my little sister, I held her close as I rose to my feet again and continued to make my way to find the Impala. I was traipsing through the woods, trying to find anything that looked familiar, but all I saw was the woods of Pennsylvania, miles and miles of woods. Shit! Suddenly, something colorful caught my eye. A Pokemon card? Chris must have dropped it. Well, I guess I'm gonna have to give her a few dollars to replace the cards she has lost. One card after another, which had been torn to shreds, leaving the perfect trail of 'bread crumbs" hopefully leading us back to the Impala.

I limped with my sister in my arms, following the card trial until I finally found my car. Chris was placed in the backseat whilst I changed the damaged left wheel in record time before jumping into the backseat and speeding away.

Thankfully the hospital wasn't that far away, which was a relief to me as I was freakin' out big time. By the time I pulled up outside the Emergency Room, Chris had stopped breathing and her heart beat was to slow for my liking. Shit!

"Help me! I need help here!" I yelled, limping into the ER with a lifeless Chris in my arms. "Please, she's not breathing!"

Doctors and nurses surrounded us, taking Chris out of my arms and placing her on a gurney and wheeling her down the corridor. I limped alongside the gurney, not wanting to leave my baby sister. A nurse in her mid forties and wearing dark blue scrubs then guided me towards the neighboring triage room.

"I'll come get you as soon as she is stable," she said, helping me onto a cubicle bed. "I promise."

I shook my head at her, climbing out of the bed, my knee almost buckled due to the pain.

"Like hell I'm staying here!" I said with a grimace. "Let me see her, I can't leave her alone!"

I played all of the events back in my head. I was feeling defeated for a lot of reasons. I couldn't help my little sister right now, I didn't even know what was going on and it was killing me.

"Sir, your daughter needs help, and we can help her better if you let us do our job," said the nurse, clearly from Boston due to her accent, as it was so thick that it could unclog a toilet. "As soon as her breathing is stable I will take you back, I promise. Let me go check on her, and I'll be right back."

Honestly I loved the fact that someone else thought of me as her father, even though our ages made the idea kinda complicated and weird. How could a twenty three year old be a father to an eleven year old. Oh yeah, I fathered a child at twelve years old. Not realistic in my view. Still it was a compliment. Minutes later the nurse returned, stating that Chris was being cared for by the best professionals in the state. Nevertheless I continued to worry as my wounds were stitched up.

The nurse then guided me to the neighboring triage room. I caught my breathe at the sight of my baby sister. She had been stripped of her clothes which had then been replaced by a hospital gown, decorated with tiny teddy bears and stars. Her hair was spread across the pillow that cushioned the back of her head. A ventilator rammed down her small throat, and the heart monitor attached to her flat chest causing an annoying beep to echo around the silent room.

She looked so innocent as she lay there. I sat down next to her and sighed, running a shaking hand through my hair. The nurse joined me, her name badge read Joyce.

"Look, I'm not going to lie, she's in rough shape," said Joyce, gazing down at Chris. "She inhaled a lot of smoke, her lungs need to rest for a while. But, I will tell you from a nurse's perspective, I've seen worse. Let her do her thing, and let us do ours."

I ran my fingers through her brown scruffy hair. She looked so sick and vulnerable. It was killing me.

"I can tell you love your daughter," said Joyce. "I can also tell she's a fighter."

Joyce patted me on the shoulder as she rose to her feet again, her expression gentle and caring.

"I'll be back in a bit. They are going to want to transfer her to a room within the next half hour until there is a space in Pediatrics," she said with a reassuring smile, then she asked. "How old is she?"

My gaze never left my baby sister. In my heart she was my baby, I'd do anything for her and the kid would do anything for me. I've never seen such respect and loyalty in someone so young. That's Chris though, even though she is mischievous and moody most times, the kid has a heart of gold.

"She's eleven" I replied, my voice quiet.

The heart monitor and the ventilator were the only sounds that came from Chris's small, fragile form.

"Such a little thing for eleven. So pretty too, you'll have your hands full when she's older," said Joyce with a kind smile. She then chuckled slightly. "A pretty fighter, good luck Dad."

I smiled weakly, my eyes remained on my sister. I would trade places with her in an instant but it would be cruel to do so as it would mean leaving her to fend for herself. I couldn't do that to her. Joyce left, leaving me alone with Chris and my thoughts.

This was all my fault, if I hadn't taken the stupid short cut then we wouldn't have been nabbed by some Russian witch therefore resulting in our trip to the ER after escaping from her burning house. Chris had been in the ER several times in the past. She nearly drowned when she was five years old. Also she suffered from a bad concussion which caused her to have a fit. When she was nine she fell out of a tree at Bobby's and broke her left arm, again my fault as I chased her up the tree because she had tipped custard into my boots.

I took her hand and planted several kisses on the back of it, hoping that she could sense my presence. I recalled memories to her in an attempt to wake her up but the stubborn kid kept her eyes closed. Sighing, I looked down at her, stroking the side of her pale face, her freckles sprayed across her nose.

"I'm so sorry baby," I whispered. "C'mon you gotta wake up. Life's boring without you annoying the hell outta me."

No response. So all I could do was wait. The sound of the machines driving me almost hysterical. As Chrissie says 'Telling me not to worry is like telling a dog not to bark'. I waited and waited. Hours past and the location changed from ER triage room to a single room in the Pediatric Ward. One thing was certain though, this was all my fault. We had escaped Baba Yaga but at what cost?

Poor kid never gets a break does she? As cruel as it is, it's fun writing angsty/hurt stuff.

Stay tuned!

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