Status: Complete
Breathe
one of one.
The room is cold and still, nothing to be seen or heard except for the beeping of the monitor. A still body lays in the middle of the room on a bed, his chest moving with very light breaths. The hospital bubbles and boils outside of the room, but no one bothers the sleeping man. Seconds, minutes, pass and nothing progresses, just the simple notion of waiting for him to wake up.
Finally, his eyes flutter and open, followed by a handful of blinks. He raises his head slightly, getting a look at the rest of the room.
“Son of a bitch,” he murmurs hoarsely, bringing his hand up to rub his eyes. He lays his head back down, running everything back through his newly awakened brain. A hunt. A hunt with Em. A simple one, easy enough for Sam to stay back at the Cubby and do more research.
What happened on the hunt?
They completed it, didn’t they? They did, with a bonus of minimal blood. Ghosts were simple enough. So they headed back to the cubby when… oh right, that dumbass that was riding his tail clipped his bumper and caught it, spinning him around and into the other lane with that…
the truck. That big rig hit Em’s side.
Emily.
He sits up his bed suddenly, swinging his legs over the side. Where was she? He stands swiftly, noting the suddenly dizziness and the pull on his hand. He looks down, ripping the IV from his hand and heading straight out the door.
He picks up speed, the palms of his feet soon burning against the cold tile, pushing as fast as they could. He glances into rooms, down halls, around people, through people, dodging people, and ignores the other man who tries to stop him.
The breath leaves his chest faster than more can come in, quickly causing him to lose his breath. He keeps pushing though, having to find her. Before long, he suddenly stop in the opening of a hall when he sees his brother residing at the end of it, his hand running along his own face.
“Sam!” Dean shouts at his brother as he makes his way down to him. “Where is she? How is she? Is she okay? Please tell me she’s okay, Sammy. Is she in there?” The window of the room next to them catches his eyes, but Sam stops him just as he puts his hand on the doorknob.
“Are you okay? What are you doing out of bed?” Sam says, pulling on Dean’s arm.
“I’m fine, Sammy. How’s the baby?” He opens the door, his feet padding across the floor slowly, reluctant to find what may be contained inside.
“She’s… she’s unconscious, Dean.” Sam’s voice comes lowly from behind him. Dean’s eyes don’t leave the blonde’s body, although they wanted nothing more than to look away. “Just like you were.”
Dean takes a step closer, then another, slowly walking to the edge of her bed. He reaches forward and brushes a piece of hair out of her face, revealing a bruise. When he looks again, her arms and chest are covered in them too.
His stomach seizes, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. His hand shakes as he slips it through her cold hand, squeezing it tightly. “I’m so sorry.” He murmurs, a knot suddenly in his throat as well. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Please wake up, baby. I just need you to wake up.” He says when he opens them again. “I woke up, so she’ll wake up too, right?” he says, turning his head to look at Sam leaning against the wall.
“They don’t know, Dean.” Sam’s rough voice chokes out.
Finally, his eyes flutter and open, followed by a handful of blinks. He raises his head slightly, getting a look at the rest of the room.
“Son of a bitch,” he murmurs hoarsely, bringing his hand up to rub his eyes. He lays his head back down, running everything back through his newly awakened brain. A hunt. A hunt with Em. A simple one, easy enough for Sam to stay back at the Cubby and do more research.
What happened on the hunt?
They completed it, didn’t they? They did, with a bonus of minimal blood. Ghosts were simple enough. So they headed back to the cubby when… oh right, that dumbass that was riding his tail clipped his bumper and caught it, spinning him around and into the other lane with that…
the truck. That big rig hit Em’s side.
Emily.
He sits up his bed suddenly, swinging his legs over the side. Where was she? He stands swiftly, noting the suddenly dizziness and the pull on his hand. He looks down, ripping the IV from his hand and heading straight out the door.
He picks up speed, the palms of his feet soon burning against the cold tile, pushing as fast as they could. He glances into rooms, down halls, around people, through people, dodging people, and ignores the other man who tries to stop him.
The breath leaves his chest faster than more can come in, quickly causing him to lose his breath. He keeps pushing though, having to find her. Before long, he suddenly stop in the opening of a hall when he sees his brother residing at the end of it, his hand running along his own face.
“Sam!” Dean shouts at his brother as he makes his way down to him. “Where is she? How is she? Is she okay? Please tell me she’s okay, Sammy. Is she in there?” The window of the room next to them catches his eyes, but Sam stops him just as he puts his hand on the doorknob.
“Are you okay? What are you doing out of bed?” Sam says, pulling on Dean’s arm.
“I’m fine, Sammy. How’s the baby?” He opens the door, his feet padding across the floor slowly, reluctant to find what may be contained inside.
“She’s… she’s unconscious, Dean.” Sam’s voice comes lowly from behind him. Dean’s eyes don’t leave the blonde’s body, although they wanted nothing more than to look away. “Just like you were.”
Dean takes a step closer, then another, slowly walking to the edge of her bed. He reaches forward and brushes a piece of hair out of her face, revealing a bruise. When he looks again, her arms and chest are covered in them too.
His stomach seizes, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. His hand shakes as he slips it through her cold hand, squeezing it tightly. “I’m so sorry.” He murmurs, a knot suddenly in his throat as well. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Please wake up, baby. I just need you to wake up.” He says when he opens them again. “I woke up, so she’ll wake up too, right?” he says, turning his head to look at Sam leaning against the wall.
“They don’t know, Dean.” Sam’s rough voice chokes out.