In My Time of Dying

I was cold and wet and sticky and sore. I think that was more from the uncomfortable position I was lying in, though, than anything else.

I opened my eyes and, for a minute, I didn't know where I was. It was dark, but there was a light coming from somewhere. I sat up to see where it was coming from, but all I noticed was Dean. He had blood all over the front of his shirt and he was bleeding profusely from a wound on his head.

I'd been sprawled out across his lap before and I hadn't known it. I looked around and realized we were in the Impala. Man, it was pretty much destroyed. Maybe it was a good thing Dean was unconscious at this point because if he'd been awake, he would have been cursing like a sailor.

"Dean?" I didn't wanna move him. I didn't wanna hurt him anymore than he already had been. But I needed to get out of the car. The door was still connected, but it was bent outwards.

I looked towards the other door; it was bent inwards, so there would be no going out that way. Not to mention a semi-truck was blocking it. It was pretty much connected to the car. It had plowed into us, apparently.

I got on my knees, trying to figure out what to do, how to get out without opening the door because Dean was leaning on it. If I opened the door, he would fall out.

I looked to the front seat. Both John and Sam were unconscious, too. The windshield had busted out, though, and I could get out that way.

There was enough space between John and Sam that I could climb over the front seat without touching them if I was careful. I took a deep breath, but then I realized the blood was so thick in the car that I could smell it, taste it, so I didn't do it again. It was rusty…metallic. It made me wanna gag.

I climbed into the front seat, feet-first. God, all three of the guys had head wounds. This was so not good.

I looked to the right, where the light was coming from. It hurt my eyes, it was so bright. When my eyes adjusted, I realized the light was coming from the semi-truck. I was looking into one of its headlights, so I turned my head away.

I was getting ready to go through the windshield when the driver-side door was ripped from the car. Straight off its hinges.

Someone grabbed me by the waist, trying to pull me out of the car. I did the natural thing; I screamed.

I landed on my feet outside the car. "Let me go!"

I elbowed whoever was holding me in the stomach and broke away, turning to look at my captor.

It was an older man with black eyes. A demon was possessing him. Huh. I wondered why I hadn't sensed him before.

Maybe I was going into shock and I couldn't feel anything. But then again, I was feeling a lot-worry, panic, fear, helplessness, hopelessness-so maybe it was because my body was on emotion overload and I just couldn't feel anything else without exploding. Metaphorically. Or, you never know, in my world I might explode physically.

My mind was rambling. I was shaking, having trouble breathing. Side effect of the fear.

The demon brought his hands up and wrapped then around my neck, choking me. I didn't fight back; I couldn't find the strength to. After a few seconds, my vision became blurry…I needed to breathe or I was gonna die.

I heard a click of what sounded like a gun. "Let her go. Or I'll kill you, I swear to God."

The hands loosened on my neck and I drew in some much needed oxygen.

"You won't. You're saving that bullet for someone else."

"You wanna bet?"

The demon said nothing. Then it screamed…or the man screamed. And a cloud of black smoke came out of his mouth. The man fell to his knees and then looked up at me. "Did I do this?"

I didn't answer. I turned to look at Sam. He was awake; he'd saved me. He held the Colt in his hands weakly. He looked exhausted.

"Dad?" I heard him say, but he didn't get a response. "Dean?" Same thing.

------------- -

I'd called the cops, telling them where we were and what had happened, editing the demon part. The paramedics had brought two helicopters and an ambulance. They had briefly checked me over, surprised when they couldn't find any wounds.

I hadn't realized it, but my clothes had been covered in blood. Most of it wasn't mine, I didn't think. It was Dean's. I even had it in my hair.

I'd ridden with Sam to the hospital and when we got there, I stayed with him while they checked him over. He had a few cuts and bruises and his eye was still swollen shut, but other than that he was fine.

The doctor had brought me a white T-shirt with some blue scrubs. Fashion disaster, yeah, but at least they were clean.

After they told Sam he was okay, I went to the bathroom. I wanted the blood out of my hair. I turned the water on and stuck my head under the faucet, getting my hair wet, and started scrubbing my scalp, hard.

I did it for about two minutes, and then I rung my hair out, cut the water off, and looked at my reflection in the mirror.

My lower lip started trembling. Here I was, not a scratch on me, when two of the people I cared about most were lying in hospital beds, one really hurt, the other possibly dying. I turned away from my reflection, screamed in frustration and panic, and kicked the wall.

Images of Dean lying against the car door, unconscious, broken, dying, filled my mind. I felt myself sink to the floor and I was vaguely aware of a pain shooting up my butt-bone as it hit the tile, but I didn't care. I scooted toward the wall, brought my legs up, wrapped my arms around them, and rested my head on my knees.

A few minutes later, a knock came from the door. "Alyson?" It was Sam. When I didn't answer, he stuck his head in. When he saw me on the floor, it took a minute for it to register in his mind what he was seeing. He'd never seen me cry, I don't think.

He walked towards me and sat down. "I heard you scream and when you didn't come out, I got worried."

I didn't say anything.

"Dad's awake. We can go see him if you want."

I shook my head. John wasn't who I wanted to see. "And Dean?" Sam didn't say anything, so I looked at him. "He's not waking up, is he?" I turned towards him, grabbing at him.

"The doctor said he's fighting very hard," Sam said. "But we'll find a way to help him." He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince me.

"Can we see h-him?"

"Um, yeah."

I laid my head on his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around me. "He has to wake up," I whispered, tears falling down my cheeks. "I told him that not waking up wasn't an option." I gripped Sam's shirt tightly, so tight my fingers started cramping up, but I didn't let go.

I heard Sam let out a sob of his own and, God, I was lost. I didn't know what to do. Neither of us did. At least I wasn't alone.

------------- -

While Sam and I were sitting there crying, I came to the conclusion that I was in love with Dean. I didn't know when that had happened, but it had. I mean, I knew why, but I didn't know when. And now, I was probably gonna lose him.

I also realized, as we were sitting there, that it was my birthday. I laughed shortly. "I never thought I'd turn eighteen in a hospital. As far as parties go, this one sucks."

"What?"

"Today's my birthday," I explained.

"You never told us that," Sam said softly.

"We were fighting demons. It didn't seem that important."

"Right."

I pulled away slightly. "We should get up soon. We're not doin' anybody any good here." I was the first one up and I grabbed his hands and pulled. On any other day, in any other situation, it would have been comical. Me, a five-three girl, trying to pull Sam to his feet. Compared to me, he was an ox. He got up and I hugged him again. "Thank you."

"No problem." He sighed. "I guess I should go talk to my dad."

I let him go. "Um, I'll come with you, I guess. See if he knows what to do."

Sam nodded and we walked out the door. I was thankful no one was around because we'd been in the girls bathroom. No Sam allowed.

When we got to John's room-he had a broken arm-Sam told him what was wrong with Dean. Blood loss, internal damage, head trauma.

"Since the doctors can't do anything…we'll have to, that's all," Sam said. "I don't know, I'll find some hoodoo priest and lay some mojo on him."

"Yeah, we'll look for someone." Sam sat in a chair by the bed. "But, Sam,…I don't know if we're gonna find anyone."

"Why not? I found that faith healer before."

"Yeah, well, that was one in a million."

"So what? What, do we just sit here with our thumbs up our ass?"

"No, I said we'd look. All right? I'll check under every stone."

I leaned against the wall, but then I froze. I could've sworn I'd gone through something, or something had gone through me. It was odd. Odd because I didn't have the chills. It was just the opposite. I felt warm and safe. Dean. It was like a part of him was with me.

My mind flashed back to when my mom had come to me after she'd died. I'd felt safe and warm then, too.

"Where's the Colt?" John asked.

"Does it matter?" I asked sharply.

"We are hunting this demon and maybe it's hunting us, too. That gun may be our only card."

"It's in the trunk," Sam said. "They dragged the car to a yard off of I-83."

"All right, you've gotta clean out that trunk before some junkman sees what's inside."

"I already called Bobby. He's like an hour out. He's gonna tow the Impala back to his place."

"All right, you guys go meet up with Bobby. You get that Colt and you bring it back to me, and you watch out for hospital security."

Sam grinned. "I think I got it covered." He stood up.

"Hey," John said. "Here." He handed Sam a piece of paper. "I made a list of things I need. Have Bobby pick 'em up for me."

Sam looked at the list. "Acacia? Oil of Abramelin? What's this stuff for?"

"Protection."

Sam went towards the door and pushed myself off the wall to follow, but Sam turned back towards John.

"Hey, Dad? You know the demon…he said he had plans for me and children like me. You have any idea what he meant by that?"

John shook his head. "No, I don't."

Sam nodded and then turned back around, walking out the room. I followed him.

"Um, do you mind going without me?" I asked. "I kinda wanna go sit with Dean. I mean, I'll go if you need me, but I-" I broke off, looking at the floor.

"No, you can stay. I'm good."

I looked back at him, nodding gratefully. He walked me to Dean's room and followed me in.

I looked at Dean, lying motionless, lifeless, in the bed. My breath caught in my throat. There were tubes stuck in him, down his throat, that were keeping him alive.

"Wow," I whispered.

"Yeah." Sam paused. "You sure you wanna stay here?"

"Yes," I said. I went towards one of the chairs-there were two-and pulled it towards the hospital bed. I looked up at Sam and nodded, letting him know I was okay, that he could leave. He walked out.

------------- -

Thirty minutes later, I hadn't moved from my seat. I hadn't touched Dean at all, even though I'd wanted to. I hadn't because he looked so…fragile lying there.

His hand had twitched a few times, but I didn't get my hopes up. He was in a coma…he'd only had a muscle spasm.

I heard a knock come from the door and I looked up, away from Dean. John was standing in the doorway.

"Hey," he said, limping into the room. Right. I forgot. Bullet wound to the leg.

"Hi," I said softly.

"You didn't go with Sam?" He sounded surprised. Probably because he'd told me to go with Sam and I hadn't. He should've known better; I didn't jump through hoops on command. If he didn't know me by now, I guess he never would.

"I wanted to stay here." I hated how vulnerable I sounded. This was no good, this hole I felt forming in my heart.

"In case he wakes up?" John asked, sounding as hopeless as I felt.

"The doctor said he doesn't have a good chance of that." I bit my lip and then continued. "Whichever way…whether he wakes up or…" I couldn't bring myself to say that Dean was probably going to die. If I said it out loud it would make it more real. "He shouldn't be alone."

Suddenly, it felt like something went through me again. Safe, warm, comfort. Dean. I looked at Dean again and tears filled my eyes. Even when he was dying he was still watching over me. Maybe I was going insane. Yeah, that was probably it.

I didn't look back at John until he pulled a chair up beside me and sat down.

"Look, I know I'm not your favorite person in the world, right now," John started, "but-"

"I don't dislike you," I interrupted. "But I don't agree with how you treat Sam or Dean. And I think it's messed up that it took you being possessed for Dean to hear what he's always wanted to hear from you. That you were proud of him. That he takes care of his family." I paused and took a deep, calming breath. I was getting angry and, really, I shouldn't have been.

I looked at Dean and then back at John. "I mean, you were never there and Dean never questioned you. Not once. I didn't understand it. Still don't. But even when you didn't take the time to call…he never questioned anything you asked him to do."

I felt like I was chastising a small child for doing something wrong. John wasn't arguing back. He was just taking it. He probably knew I was right.

He looked at me a little longer than I was comfortable with, so I turned my head away, but I could still feel his gaze on me.

"You love him. Both of them. I know that," I said. "You have a weird way of showing it, but you do."

"Yeah."

We sat in a comfortable silence for a while, my thoughts roaming, randomly, over things that had happened in the past couple months. Not everything had been bad. I'd become friends with Sam and Dean. We could depend on each other endlessly. Yes, we were all different in some ways, but we made each other stronger.

"Dean was the one who taught me who to shoot," I said, smiling slightly. "I remember we were out in a field. I wasn't aiming at anything…he just wanted me to get comfortable holding the gun. He taught me how to stand so that I wouldn't hurt myself."

John didn't say anything, so I just kept talking.

"Anyway…I was nervous. I'd never even held a gun before, let alone fired one. I was shaking…I didn't want to learn how to shoot a gun. I didn't have a choice. Dean said I did. I didn't have to do it if I didn't want to. But in my mind, I didn't have a choice."

"But he gave you a choice," John said.

I nodded. I wasn't accusing him of anything, but it sounded like John was taking it that way. He wasn't getting mad, though, which surprised me. I guess the seriousness of the situation was getting to him.

"Yeah. It meant a lot," I said, picking up on the conversation, "knowing that he would protect me if I couldn't protect myself. But I chose to learn, so he taught me. And after I shot it the first time…he made sure I was okay."

John took a deep breath and then acted like he was going to say something, but didn't. I didn't know what to think. I didn't know John knew how to keep from saying things he wanted to say.

"What?" I looked at him and saw an expression of realization on his face. "What?"

"You care about him a lot. Don't you?"

I didn't even have to think about it. "Yes, I do. I mean, I care about them both. They were there for me when I needed them. They're the most important people in my life. But Dean…we understand each other…most of the time." I smiled slightly. It was a sad smile. I knew that. "Dean and I connect. It's not a physical thing…it's entirely emotional. He doesn't mind opening up to me because he knows I'll never tease him for it or throw it back in his face, use it against him. He knows that whatever we talk about stays between us."

"You love him. Both of them," John said, and it wasn't a question. My own words were being repeated back to me.

"Yeah." I stood up and said, "I'm gonna go…let you be alone for a while. I'll be back in a few minutes."

With that, I walked out the door.

------------- -

I had planned on going outside to get some fresh air,-the hospital smell was getting to me-but Sam came through the door, looking upset. He almost ran me over.

"Sam? What's goin' on?"

He didn't answer my question. "Where's my dad?"

"Uh, he was with Dean a minute ago. He might still be there." I noticed he was carrying a couple of bags. "What's in there?"

"The stuff Dad wanted and our clothes." He went around me. "I gotta find my dad."

I followed him. When we got to Dean's room, John wasn't there. I guess he'd left shortly after I had.

Sam walked away from the room and I was torn between going with him and staying with Dean. I reluctantly followed Sam to John's room. He was back in the bed now.

Sam threw the bags on the bed. "You think I wouldn't find out?"

"What are you talkin' about?" John asked.

"That stuff from Bobby. You don't use it to ward off a demon, you use it to summon one. You're planning on bringing the demon here, aren't you, and having some stupid macho showdown!"

I couldn't believe it. "What's he talking about?"

"I have a plan," John said.

"That's exactly my point! Dean is dying and you have a plan," Sam yelled. "You know what, you care more about killing this demon than you do saving your own son."

I closed my eyes. This wasn't happening. I was having a nightmare, I was gonna wake up anytime now.

"Do not tell me how I feel. I am doing this for Dean."

"How? How is revenge gonna help him? You're not thinkin' about anybody but yourself! It's the same selfish obsession."

"That's funny, you know what, I thought this was your obsession, too! This demon killed your mother, killed your girlfriend. You begged me to be a part of this hunt. Now, if you killed that damn thing when you had the chance, none of this would have happened."

"It was possessing you, Dad. I would've killed you, too."

"Yeah, and your brother would be awake right now!"

I'd had enough. "Shut up," I screamed. I didn't care who heard me. "Both of you just…shut up."

"I should have never taken you along in the first place. I knew it was a mistake." John was talking to Sam.

A bunch of doctors rushed past the room, so I went to look to see what was happening. Doctors were going into Dean's room. I rushed out of John's room, Sam following behind me.

We couldn't go in Dean's room; he was flat-lining, and they were trying to bring him back. They were using a defibrillator, trying to make his heart work.

It wasn't working. They tried at least three times, but…nothing. And then suddenly his heart was working properly again.

A feeling of desperation came over me, but it wasn't mine. It was like I was feeling Dean, channeling his emotions or something.

But he was breathing again, his heart was beating. So what was wrong?

"Dean," Sam whispered, and I looked at him. "I felt…"

"You felt that, too?"

He nodded.

"What does that mean?" I asked shakily.

"I don't know. Maybe he's having an out of body experience or something."

"You mean like astral projection?"

"Yeah. We should go see what Dad thinks."

"Okay." He started walking, so I followed. "And, Sam, try to keep the fighting to a minimum, okay?"

Sam grinned sheepishly. "Will do."

When we got to John's room we told him what had happened. We told him how we'd each felt Dean in his room, how I'd felt him before that.

"What do you mean you felt something?" John asked.

"I mean, it felt like…like Dean. Like he was there, just out of eyeshot or something," Sam answered. "Do you think it's even possible? Do you think his spirit could be around?"

"Anything's possible."

Sam nodded. "We'll there's one way to find out."

"Where you goin'?"

"I gotta pick something up. I'll be back." Sam went to the door, but turned back around when John told him to wait.

"I promise I won't hunt this demon," John said. "Not until we know Dean's okay."

Sam nodded and left.

"Do you need anything?" I asked. "Or do you want me to stay? I wanna go back and sit with Dean."

"I wanna tell you something." I raised my eyebrows, wondering what he wanted. "He's fond of you."

"What?" That was random.

"Dean," John explained. "He's fond of you. He's stubborn and he's gonna try to push you away. Don't let him."

I smiled slightly. John was talking like he knew Dean was going to wake up, which was okay, because I needed to hear it. Even if I didn't believe it.

------------- -

When I got back to Dean's room. I curled up in the chair by the bed and nodded off. I didn't know how long I'd been asleep, but I heard someone calling me from a distance.

I opened my eyes. Dean was standing in front of me. He had been calling my name.

"Dean?" I whispered.

He seemed surprised. "You can hear me?"

"Why wouldn't I be able to hear you?" He moved out of my way. Dean was still lying in the bed, tubes attached to him. I looked at him. "I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

He sighed. "Well, you are asleep, but you aren't dreaming. You're astral projecting. I saw you were asleep and I called for you. I didn't think it'd actually work."

"Huh…" I stood up, looking at spirit-Dean. "I've read that while you sleep your soul roams free, but I've never experienced it before." I looked back at the chair where I'd been sitting, was still sitting physically. Weird. "This is trippy."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"When I wake up, I'll just automatically go back in my body?" I asked.

"Yeah, something like that." Dean paused. "Where's Sam?"

"I don't know. He said he needed to pick something up and he'd be back."

As if on cue, Sam walked in. He was holding a brown paper bag. He looked at me-the me that was in the chair-and then at Dean-the one in the bed.

"Hey," he said softly. "I think maybe you're around, and if you are…don't make fun of me for this, but, um…there's one way we can talk." I watched as Sam took a box holding a Ouija board out of the bag he was holding.

"Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me," Dean said.

Sam closed the door and then went to sit in the middle of the room. He put the board down in front of him and put the planchette on it, placing his fingers on the planchette.

"Dean? Are you here?"

"God, I feel like I'm at a slumber party," Dean said. I went to hit him on the arm, but my hand went through him. I didn't try again.

Dean sat down across from Sam. "This isn't gonna work." He put his fingers on the other side of the planchette and it moved.

Sam seemed relieved and Dean was shocked.

"It's good to hear from you. It hasn't been the Sam without you, Dean." Sam was near tears.

"Damn straight." He began moving the planchette again.

Sam concentrated on the board. "H…U…N. Hunt? What, hunting? Are you hunting?" Dean moved the planchette to yes. "Dean, it's in the hospital, what you're hunting. Do you know what it is?"

"One question at a time, dude."

"What is it?" I asked.

Dean's hands began to move. "I don't think it's killing people. I think it's taking them. You know, their time is just up."

"A reaper," Sam said, looking at the board. "Dean? Is it after you?" Dean moved his hands to yes. "If it's here naturally…there's no way to stop it."

"Yeah, you can't kill death." So, he was dying and there was nothing he could do about it. "I'm screwed, Sam."

"No," Sam and I said in unison.

"There's gotta be a way," Sam said, standing up. "Dad will know what to do." He went out the room.

Dean stood up, facing me. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head. "A reaper, huh?" Wow, the death.

"Yeah." He paused for a second. "Hey, promise me somethin'."

I looked at him. Looked into his dark green-sometimes they were light green, almost like a blue-green-eyes. "Anything," I said. And I meant it.

"Stay with Sammy. For your sake and his." So we could watch over each other.

I stepped closer to him. "Where else am I gonna go?"

Sam came back in the room holding John's journal. He sat on the edge of Dean's bed.

"Hey. So, Dad wasn't in his room. But I got Dad's journal, so who knows? Maybe there's somethin' in here."

Sam opened the journal and began flipping through the pages, stopping on one about Reapers. Dean moved closer so he could read over Sam's shoulder.

"Son of a bitch." He began walking out the room.

I looked at my body in the chair and then at the door Dean had gone out of. I wondered if it was okay for me to follow. But then I figured, as he went, so went my nation. So I followed.

"Dean, what's going on?" I ran to catch up to him.

"I met this girl, I thought she was a spirit, like me, but now I think she's a reaper."

"Um…okay." I didn't know what to say, so I just kept walking.

We ended up in a room that was empty, save for a bed with a short black-haired girl sitting on it.

"Hi, Dean," she said. She looked at me, but didn't say anything.

"You know, you read the most interesting things," Dean said. "For example, did you know that reapers can alter human perception? I sure didn't. Basically, they can make themselves appear however they want. Like say, um…a pretty girl. You're much prettier than the last reaper I met."

"I was wondering when you'd figure it out," she said.

"I should've known," Dean said, beginning to pace. "That whole accepting fate rap of yours was far to laid back for a dead girl. But you know, the mother and the body…I'm still tryin' to figure that one out." I didn't know what he was talking about.

"It's my sandbox," she said patiently. "I can make you see whatever I want."

Dean looked at me, suspiciously. "Is she real?"

"She's very real," the reaper said.

Dean looked back at the reaper. "So, what is this, like a turn on for you? Huh? Toyin' with me?"

"You didn't give me much choice. You saw my true form and flipped out…kind of hurts a girl's feelings. This was the only way I could get you to talk to me."

"Okay, fine," Dean said. "We're talkin'. What the hell do you wanna talk about?"

I suddenly felt a pull in my chest and I gasped. It didn't hurt, it was just uncomfortable.

"What are you doin' to her?" Dean asked the reaper.

"I'm not doing it," she answered. "Her body is trying to wake up. She needs to get back to it. Or her connection will be broken. She'll be stuck."

I looked at Dean. "I can't leave you like this."

Dean looked away. "I don't think you have a choice." He sounded like he desperately wanted me to stay.

"Dean."

He looked at me now. "Go," he said firmly. "Don't die because of me."

I knew how Dean would feel if that actually happened, so I nodded, and whispered, "good-bye." And then I was floating away from him, being pulled back to my body.

------------- -

When I opened my eyes this time I was back in Dean's room. Minus spirit-Dean.

Sam was in the room. He looked at me when I stood up.

"Hey," I said. "Did you find anything?"

"What?"

"On the reaper. Do you know how to help Dean?"

"No," he said. "How did you know about that? You were asleep."

"Um…astral projection."

I explained all of what had happened and he seemed confused, but not surprised.

"How'd you do it?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said honestly. "Dean said he called for me. And people say when you're asleep your soul walks free…"

"Yeah, and it's emotion based. Like if you go to bed hungry or thirsty. You need something…makes it easier for it to happen."

"Like if I fell asleep missing someone? Needing them with me?" I sounded vulnerable again. I still hated it. I looked up at Sam. "He made me promise I'd stay with you."

A look of realization came over Sam's face. "He's giving up?"

"He doesn't have a choice," I said softly. "And, Sam,…the reaper wasn't evil. She has a job to do and she does it."

Sam looked at Dean. "We were just startin' to be brothers again." He had tears in his eyes, so mine filled up, too.

Suddenly, Dean was gasping for air, gagging around the tube that was down his throat, trying to sit up.

This made no sense. One minute he was dying and the next…Sam was trying to hold him down and calm him into steady breathing.

I ran outside to get a doctor and then we were shooed out of the room. They needed to run tests, they said.

------------- -

The doctor couldn't explain what had happened. The internal damage was healed. His vitals were good. It was a miracle.

Now that he was awake, though, we weren't allowed to stay with him. They said he'd needed his rest. So, Sam and I had left the hospital to go find a motel and we found one near the hospital.

I was able to take a shower, getting rid of the blood that I hadn't been able to get off at the hospital. When Sam had gone to get the Colt out of the Impala, he'd gotten our clothes, too. Bobby had taken the rest of the weapons back to his place.

As I stood there in the shower, water as hot as I could stand it, I began crying. The second time in the past 24 hours. The first time had been because Dean had been dying; this time it was because he was awake.

He was alive and safe. He wasn't dying.

I had trouble sleeping that night. I didn't know why. Everything was fine. Everyone was fine.

When I woke up, Sam was still sleeping, seemingly peaceful. I stretched before standing up. I was gonna go see Dean and I didn't want to wake Sam up, so I left a note on a piece of motel stationary. I didn't want him to worry too much.

I got dressed-T-shirt and jeans-and walked out of the room as quietly as I could. I went to the hospital in a roundabout way because I wanted to get some coffee for me and Dean. I didn't know if he was allowed to drink it, but I bought him some anyway. I bought some for John too, because even though I didn't agree with his parenting methods, he was still a good man. Not to mention that making him drink hospital coffee while Dean and I had real coffee was just evil.

When I got to the hospital I went to John's room first and saw he was lying down, but not sleeping. I handed him a coffee, which he thanked me for.

"No problem." I looked at him. "Have you gone to see Dean yet?"

He shook his head, almost sadly. "Nah. I didn't wanna take a chance on waking him up."

"Oh. Well, I'm going now. Do you wanna come with me?" I asked.

Again, he shook his head. "You should go be with him, though. I'll be there shortly."

I nodded, but didn't leave. "Are you okay?" I asked. "I mean, you're acting kinda strange, even for you."

John smiled slightly. "Yeah, I guess I am. But yeah, I'm fine. Happy that Dean's okay."

"Oh." He didn't seem happy to me; he seemed resigned about something. "Um…well, if that's all, then I guess I'm gonna go."

He nodded, so I left. I made my way to Dean's room; he was sitting up in bed, looking worried and bored. Weird combination, but there you go.

"I come bearing gifts," I said. He smiled slightly when I set our coffees on the tray next to his bed. "Well, one gift, since the other one's mine."

"Is Sam with Dad?"

I looked at him sheepishly. "I came alone. He's at the motel sleeping."

"You came by yourself?"

I nodded. "And nothing happened. I'm fine."

"Yeah, yeah." He looked to the door and then back at me. "So, what happened?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Yesterday or whenever we got here. What happened?"

So I told him everything. I told him about how the demon had attacked me, how Sam had saved me. How, when we'd gotten to the hospital, Sam and I had felt Dean's spirit walking around and then how my spirit had been walking around because he'd called for me when I'd been asleep. He didn't know what to make of that.

I told him about the reaper and then I told him about his car. I saved that for last. He wasn't exactly mad because he'd expected it.

"So, you said a reaper was after me?"

"Yeah," I answered.

"How'd I ditch it?"

"I don't know." I sighed. "You really don't remember anything?" I remembered everything. Maybe it was because he'd been close to death and I'd only been sleeping.

"No." He began to fidget slightly.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"No. I have this pit in my stomach. Something's wrong." He seemed so sure, so I didn't question it.

A knock came from the door and we both looked in that direction. Sam and John were standing there, both smiling slightly.

"How you feelin' dude?" John asked.

"Fine, I guess. I'm alive." Dean shrugged, but then grimaced in pain. Clearly, whatever had made him live, hadn't taken the pain away.

"That's what matters," John said, heartfelt.

"Where were you last night?" Sam asked him.

John looked at him, smile gone. "I had some things to take care of."

"Well, that's specific," Sam said sarcastically.

Dean looked at him in disapproval. "Come on, Sam." He was telling him to cut it out.

"Did you go after the demon?"

"No."

"You know, why don't I believe you right now?"

"Sam, would you stop already?" I asked, tired. "Dean just woke up, he's alive. You can fight later."

"She's right," John said. "I mean, half the time we're fightin', I don't know what we're fighting about. We're just buttin' heads." By that time, John's eyes were watering. Dean was right; something was wrong. "Look, Sammy, I…I've made some mistakes. But I've always done the best I could. I don't wanna fight anymore, okay?"

I stepped forward, away from Dean. "John, are you okay?" I realized I'd asked that earlier in his room, but he was acting strange.

"Yeah," he said softly. "Yeah, I'm just a little tired." He looked at Sam. "Hey, would you mind, uh…would you mind getting me a cup of caffeine?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "Sure."

Sam began moving towards the door and John looked at me, nodding slightly at the door.

"Got it," I said, before following Sam out. He didn't need coffee, he had coffee; he wanted some time with Dean.

Sam and I walked towards the elevator-we were gonna go to the cafeteria-but I stopped for a second. "I don't like elevators."

"Why?"

"Promise not to laugh?" I asked.

Sam shook his head. "Every time someone says not to laugh it's usually because what they say will make you laugh."

"Right. Well, there's three reasons. One, it could get stuck. Two, the cord could snap and we'd all die. And three, when it goes down it feels like I've left my stomach at the top."

He blinked a few times and took a deep breath. "You're paranoid, you know that?" We started walking again.

"I do, but the first two could happen and the third one does happen."

"You didn't complain last night."

"Last night other things mattered more." I looked in the general direction of Dean's room.

"He cares about you, ya know," Sam said softly. "He probably won't admit it to himself, but he does."

I looked up at him. "You're the second person who's told me that." We reached the elevator and I pressed the down button. "Anyway, John told me Dean would try to push me away."

"Probably. Just…don't let him." Same words John had used.

"Stubborn love, huh?"

Sam tilted his head a little. "Love?"

I clenched my jaw and began pushing the down button repeatedly, impatiently.

"You love him?" I stopped pressing the button.

"It was a…figure of speech, all right?"

Sam shook his head, grinning. "No, it wasn't."

I grabbed his arm, letting him know I was serious. "Just…don't tell him, okay. And don't make fun of me, either."

"I won't tell him." He was serious. "And I'm not making fun." He grinned again. "I think it's cute."

I felt my face heat up. "Cute? You are making fun."

"No. I'm not. I mean it. I think you'd be good for him."

"What?" That shocked me. "Why?"

"Well, for one, you don't put up with his crap-or mine. You call us on it. But-and this isn't the only thing-you support him. You supported him more than I did these past couple days." He looked at the floor, almost like he was ashamed. "I can be pretty stubborn and sometimes I'm not there for him like I should be. It's good to know that at least someone will be."

The elevator doors finally opened and we stepped in, but before the door could close again, I got the chills. I pressed the open button to fully part the doors and stepped back outside.

"Uh, what are you doing?"

"Something's here," I said, walked away. He followed me. We went to Dean's room first. He was okay, still sitting there on the bed. Something was different, though. He looked like he was in shock.

"Stay here," Sam said and made his way down the hall.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked.

"Um…I'm not sure. I felt something."

"Somethin' bad?"

I sighed and nodded. Suddenly, I heard someone shout for help. I was sure it was Sam. I turned to go out the room, almost making it.

"Don't you dare leave without me," Dean said angrily.

I turned back around. He was trying to get out of bed. He was still pretty weak, so it wasn't working too well. I rushed over to him and put one arm around his waist while he put one arm around my shoulders. He was leaning on me, which was no easy feat, because compared to me, he weighed a ton.

We moved as fast as Dean could, going to John's room. Sam was waiting outside and, as we got to the door, I realized a bunch of doctors were in the room.

It was like déjà vu. John had been hooked up to a bunch of machines and a doctor was performing CPR. Only, last time I'd been in this situation, Dean had been the one the doctors were trying to bring back.

I looked at the heart monitor John was hooked up to; he didn't have a pulse.

Dean began squeezing my shoulder almost painfully, so I looked at him. He looked shocked again. He didn't know he was hurting me.

I brought my hand up and gently pried his off my shoulder, but didn't let go. His grip was tight on my hand, too.

I looked up at Sam. He was in tears. The only thing that was keeping me from crying was my confusion.

John had been fine. He'd been up walking around and everything. Then I'd gotten the chills and he was dead now.

The doctors gave up trying to bring him back. Time of death…10:41a.m.

Hey, people. First chapter is up, obviously or you wouldn't be reading it. Anyway...I've gotta say I'm not too happy with this chapter, only because the episode is much better than this, I think. But unless you're Dean, it's not very action-packed, ya know. So, yeah, I did the best I could.