I wish I had taken those damn slippers they gave me when I first got to see my kids. They were the ugliest things ever, but running on cold tile kinda makes your feet freeze. My toes hit the floor before the rest of my foot, sending a chill through my foot and up my leg before I had fully taken a step. My whole body started to go numb as I continued to run blindly.
I cut a corner, my hands grazing the walls quickly, keeping me from stopping and falling down. My feet made a pounding noise against the floor as I continued on my mission.
I searched the windows of the doors for my family, but they weren't there. Voices came from the hallway ahead of me, causing me to slow my pace to a stop. I didn't dare peeked my head around the corner to see who it was. I waited a moment. "Come on, pick up the pace."
There was a shuffle of feet and a humph. "Go," a voice too familiar for me to ignore. I saw Sam run towards me and stop once he saw me. He grabbed hold of my pant leg and started to tug as he quietly begged me for help. I bent down quickly, gripping his shoulders, trying to calm him down and get him to listen.
"Go back to my room and stay there. I'll come back for you," I knew that if I went back to that room I would be stuck there, but at the moment I needed to find out what was going on. I let go of Sam's shoulder and pushed him softly, giving him a running start down the rest of the hallway. I made sure he made it down the hallway and turned towards my room before I ran over to help Dean.
It's funny how you can run around a corner and "catch" your son without realizing it. His deadweight hit my chest, knocking me back a couple of steps. I looked at Dean; his eyes closed, his face a little tense, his eyebrow furrowed as his lips were in a frown. If it were under any other circumstances, I would be able to look at my eldest son and see a smile or a relaxed looked on his face.
At this moment he was far from happy. I looked up to see a woman straitening herself up: standing up straight, brushing dirt off her pants, ringing her fingers through her dark hair, smoothing out her shirt. Her already dark brown eyes turned darker as they became pitch black. A smiled twisted onto her face, "Hello again. Ya miss me?"
My face twisted with anger as I realized it was the same demon, obviously, that was possessing "Lucie". I gritted my teeth before I clenched my jaw; I slowly lowered Dean down to the ground, leaning him against the wall, never taking my eyes off of her. "Yea, like a festering sore."
She closed her eyes and reopened them as human eyes. Her hand reached up and brushed her hair out of her face. "Oh good, I love a faithful man." She snickered as my eyes started to cloud with rage. She hurt Dean, again, and I wasn't there to protect him. I wasn't able to keep my children safe. What kind of parent am I?
I thought about how much better off they would be with Jim. They wouldn't have to face danger everywhere they went; they'd have a sent home. And they would live on holy ground, demons couldn't go there. Jim could give them the safety that I could never give them. I could only give them fear and the skill to protect themselves and each other.
And love. I could give them the little love I still allowed myself to feel. My thoughts were cut into as I heard a scoff. "John, don't ignore me," she moved to her right, trying to draw me into make a circle. This would give her the perfect opportunity to get to Dean or Sam. For once I might actually be ahead of the game. "What you don't want to play?"
"Sorry, but I don't play with evil sonovabitches," I stood protectively in front of Dean's unconscious body. I waited to see what was going to happen next since I was dealt all the wrong cards.
Sam skidded to a stop when he saw Pastor Jim standing only a few feet away. He ran up and grabbed the father's leg, holding it tight like it was his lifeline. His small fingers curled Jim's pant leg into a bunch. Jim bent down, patting Sam on the head, knowing he still wasn't capable of picking up the little boy. It was possible, but extremely hard and painful.
"Pastor Jim," Sam cried, resting his head onto Jim's chest, "I'm sorry."
"It's okay Sammy," Jim soothed, placing his head on top of Sam's although not putting any weight on it. Sam's head popped up and in that moment Jim realized how small Sam was. Sam was always tall for his age, as was Dean. He was always the 'big boy' because he wanted to do everything Dean did. Sam was always bigger than the other four-year-olds at the park. He never seemed to be anything but big.
Except in that exact moment. Sam's giant eyes seemed too big for his childish face; he looked so young, so small, so innocent. Jim just hadn't noticed how little the youngest Winchester really was. "Pastor Jim," Sam began, pulling away from the father. He grabbed hold of Jim's hand and started to pull him towards the hallway Sam had just come from. "We need to help Dad."
"Why?" Jim asked pleasantly. Where is that man and what kind of trouble is he in now?! His hand wrapped itself around Sam's as he stood up, looking down the hallway. He watched as Sam pulled forward, his little legs moving quickly as he tried to pull Jim. A smile crept onto Jim's face as he saw the determination that appeared on Sam's face now. It seemed to always be plastered on Dean's and John's face. It was as though the entire Winchester family matched.
Even through his smile he couldn't shake the bad feeling that had grown even worse as time progressed.
The odds were pretty much against me, but somehow I could tell that there might be a way out of this whole mess. I watched as the dark demon tried to pull me away from Dean, away from my fallen son.
Her eyes flickered down to Dean, and she snickered. "Do you really think I'm after him?" she nodded her head towards Dean, a small glimpse of glee crossed her face. "Well I wouldn't mind some fun, but he's not what I want. You're not even what I truly want."
My eyes widened as I realized what she really wanted: Sam. Why? What was so important about Sam? Why was she going after him? Was she trying to kill him? What did she want with him? "So, you do have a plan. Surprising, since you just seem to be wondering the halls of a hospital for no apparent reason."
"I've been patient, but now I'm tired of waiting. I don't care about the consequences. I want what I came for, and no one is going to stop me." She leapt forward; a small glint of silver drew my attention to her hand. There lay a dagger that seemed to be aimed directly for my heart. I raised my hands to block it, stopping it from puncturing my skin, my heart, ending my life. I tried to push it away but she was too powerful.
I lifted my leg and kneed her in the gut, making her double-over as she lost her breath, but recovered it quickly. I scrambled away, trying to find something, anything that I could use to my benefit. There was a small table a few feet away, that with one swipe of my arm, almost like how a bear would try to tear right through a camping tent, it toppled off. A 3-inch scalpel fell to the ground, creating a noise only made my metal meeting tile. I grabbed hold of the handle, only cutting part of my finger in doing so.
I flipped onto my back and met the possessed woman head on, driving the knife into her side. I knew it would hurt the woman inside, but not kill her, at least not immediately. I felt a sting of guilt as I realized how that woman would have to deal with a hole in her side if she survived. But truthfully I was being selfish. I really just cared about my survival and the survival of my family.
The woman grabbed hold of the scalpel and pulled it out of her side roughly, blood spattering on the walls and dripping down the scalpel. "You think that would kill me? You're dumber than you look!" She chuckled coldly as she made her remark.
I looked into her pitch black eyes and wondered exactly what she was planning to do. She took a step forward, the bloodied scalpel smug in the palm of her hand. I crawled backwards slowly, using the palms of my hands and my feet to push off of the tiled floor and down the hallway. My feet slide at certain moments, slowing down my progress. I wondered how long it would take for her to kill me. One stab to the heart? Repeated stab wounds so that I would suffer? Would she make it look like a suicide?
She edged closer as I continued to move away. Her smile grew wide as she took another slow step towards me, making me feel more like she was toying with me than trying to kill me. Her feet stopped and her hand swung down to her side.
She dropped to her knees and moved close to me, placing the scalpel against my neck. She hissed through a locked jaw, "I've been waiting to get what I've come for. I'm going to make sure that all of the special children are going to be taken care of, including Sam. So you shouldn't worry."
She got back up to her feet, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of her face as she did so. "Oh, and just so you know. I'm not going to kill you; I want to see you suffer as you realize that your son is on our side while the other…well Dean's not going to make it to his next birthday." My eyes widened at her threat, but I was powerless to do anything.
I saw her fist coming at my face, but I was either too surprised or too worried about my sons to do anything about it. My eyes closed immediately as I couldn't feel anymore.