Disclaimer: Neither the boys nor anything related to Supernatural belongs to me. I'm just having some fun with the boys, playing around with Eric Kripke's sandbox.


By: Vanessa Sgroi

Dean Winchester wiped furiously at the involuntary tears streaming from his eyes, leaving behind bloody swaths painted across his cheeks. Panting, he pressed a hand against the wound on his thigh, grimacing as blood oozed up, over, and around the pale appendages. Pulling his lower lip between his teeth and biting down hard, he used his free hand to put the car in gear before gripping the steering wheel.

The drive to the motel passed in a blur as the hunter struggled to maintain his compression on the wound and hold on to the steering wheel at the same time. His vision darkened and wavered more times than he cared to admit, and Dean was thankful it was the middle of the night and the roads were deserted.

Pulling into the parking lot of the Half Moon Motel, the hunter did his best to park between an angled set of lines then hauled himself out of the car. Unable to put much, if any, weight on his leg, Dean resorted to small hops and shuffles to navigate to the door where he fumbled with the key card. Finally, the door sprang open and he all but tumbled across the threshold.

Maneuvering to the bed closest to the door, Dean sank down. He opened his mouth to call for his brother, but closed it with a snap of his teeth. Sam wasn't there. He was…somewhere… Dean's brow furrowed in thought. Somewhere. But not here. He shifted on the bed, a groan forcing its way between clenched teeth.

Raising his head, Dean's bleary gaze locked on the bathroom doorway. Pulling in a breath, he rose, nearly nosediving to the floor when the room swayed and knees trembled. Slowly he inched to the bathroom, bonelessly sinking down onto the closed toilet seat. Grabbing a towel, he pressed it mercilessly against his wounded thigh. Swallowing back nausea, Dean waited for the bleeding to slow to an ooze, acknowledging silently that he was going to need stitches.

Weary, Dean tilted his head back against the wall and let his eyes fall closed. Soon. I'll do the stitches soon. But darkness was rapidly encroaching despite his efforts to fend it off. Sam. Sammy, I sure as hell wish you were here right now, little brother. I was only doing some research. Simple, right? Never expected…this. You said I'd be fine slicing and dicing on my own. Guess this proves how stupid I am…

The buzz in his ears grew. Consciousness winked out like a spent candle.