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The sunlight shining through the trees warms me - my closed eyelids, my face, my clothes, and my hair. I feel the texture of springtime grass under me, tickling my bare feet and arms.
It isn't until I register that I am on the hard rough ground do I feel a tinge of confusion.
How did I get outside? I wonder.
I keep my eyes closed, pushing away the confusion. I take my time enjoying the soft breeze, the kiss of the sun on my skin, the sound of wind through leaves, the metallic smell of blood, the sudden sharp and continuous pain radiating through my body...
My eyes fly open, and a piercing cry of agony claws its way out of my throat.
The pain, it's everywhere. I look down at my body, seeing deep red blood coating my ragged and torn clothes. The ground around me is saturated with the stuff. My chest rises and falls frantically with struggled, panicked breaths.
"Sam, over here!" I hear a male voice call from a little ways away.
I try to call out again, but the panic is engulfing me. The sight of green-tinged sunlight above me is darkening. I feel myself losing consciousness...
"Hey, listen to me," the same voice from before says, this time it's coming from right next to me. His voice is rough, deep, and full of concern but also urgency.
I feel a rough, calloused hand rest on my shoulder, gently nudging me. "Stay awake, okay? I'm gonna get you out of here."
I fight to open my eyes and see who has come to save me from the brink of the abyss...
I look into green eyes more vivid than the leaves and grass around us, eyes more profound and full of emotion than any I had gazed into before.
I feel an odd sensation amidst the pain, something powerful enough to be felt above the agony. The feeling is foreign, and yet it feels like I have always had it inside of me.
The sudden emotion takes me off guard, and as I look into his eyes, I see a slight bit of confusion there as well. It's as if he looked at me expecting one thing and then found something completely different. Then he looks away, down at my bloody clothes, and the moment has passed.
He quickly examines my skin, looking for wounds. His fingers graze against my leg, and again I scream in pain.
"I..." I see the man struggle for words as he continues to look at my wounds. I can see a hint of sadness in his green eyes. His hand touches my torso, and I feel the pain intensify as he finds that my side has been sliced open.
I yell out, and I see the sadness is there again, showing through his emerald eyes. "I've got you. Don't worry," he says, meeting my eyes. That new emotion comes to the forefront of my mind again, dulling the pain.
"Am I going to..." I try to take a deep breath, and it hurts. My guess is that I have damage to my rib cage. "...die?"
Whispering that one word hurts even more than any of my injuries.
"Dean, did you find-" Another man's deep voice comes from a few paces away. The man kneeling next to me -Dean- and I look at the newcomer, a tall man with long hair and a rifle. I flinch away from the sight of the weapon.
I feel lightheaded, the confusion and pain spinning like a twister in my head. "Dean..." I whisper, trying to reach for him to save me and pull me back from the brink, but it's too late.
I drift away, the dark and painless void swallowing me up.
"I've got you. Don't worry."
With his arms around me, holding me gently to him, I feel like my heart is singing. My blood rushes, hot under my skin. I feel safe, and the unidentifiable emotion from before is so strong and all-encompassing.
My eyes flutter open, and I look up at the wooden beams of an unfamiliar ceiling. I feel a heavy quilt covering my body and fluffy feather pillows cradling my head.
I shake off the remnants of my dream. Of course, it couldn't be a reality.
My thoughts are a tangled web, trying to piece together what happened in the woods. All I can remember is the blood, the pain, and the momentary respite of the agony as I stared into the forest green eyes of the most stunningly beautiful man I'd ever seen.
"Be careful next time. I don't want to have to bandage you up again."
I sit up, noticing Dean seated in a wicker chair across the room, a bowl of something is on the table before him. He has a playful smirk on his lips, and I smile shyly back at him.
For some reason, I feel a wave of comfort seeing him. It shows me that at least a little bit of what happened was real.
"Feeling any better?" Dean inquires.
"Yes, actually," I say in a voice scratchy from sleep, and it's true. The pain is less severe, and I notice the bandages covering my side and a few other places, but most surprising is a makeshift splint on my leg.
I feel a change in the atmosphere of the room as Dean sighs softly. I can feel his relief like a physical force.
Speaking of, I look around me, studying the unfamiliar room. It seems I'm in some kind of sparsely decorated cabin, almost everything is coated with a layer of dust.
"Do I... need to go to the hospital?" I say, suddenly flooded with anxiety.
Dean's natural smile falters. "Yes," he says, then adds: "but we can't."
The sadness and regret in his deep voice crack something inside of me like a dam, and cold fear rushes through my veins.
"Is whatever attacked me still out there?" My voice is quiet, but Dean hears me, and the expression on his face answers my question.
The sudden desire to have him wrap his arms around me like in my dream overwhelms me.
"What was it?" I ask, but I'm not sure I want to know.
The door on the far wall swings open, and the tall man comes in the room, and panic is written all over his face. It only increases my fear.
"Sam, what is it?" Dean asks briskly, standing up and taking a few steps closer to Sam. Every hint of humor is gone -he is all business now.
"We're surrounded," Sam says, trying to hide the fear in his eyes, and failing.
Dean doesn't respond but instead walks over to a large duffel bag that I hadn't noticed before perched on a chair.
He unzips the bag and starts pulling out various guns and other assorted weapons in one swift movement. He acts automatically like he's done this a thousand times before. Maybe he has.
"What are they?" Dean asks Sam, his voice low and steely.
"They're different from anything we have seen. Like a vampire mixed with a ghoul on steroids. It's like... they are mutated."
Dean looks over his shoulder at me, and I wring my hands together, trying to stop the trembling in my fingers.
Mutated? Vampires? Is that what nearly killed me? I feel despair grip my heart in its shockingly powerful grasp. We are surrounded. Do we even have a hope of survival?
Tears start spilling down my face.
A knock at the door stuns all three of us, and we stand like statues for a moment.
After a few heartbeats, Dean and Sam both thaw and move into action. Sam goes to the door, holding a handgun at the ready. Dean surprises us by walking over to me, determination in his eyes.
"Listen, I told you we're getting out of here, and I meant it." His voice is serious, and the intense emotion in his gaze causes butterflies to go to war in my stomach. "I'll protect you."
He offers me a handgun, and I hesitantly take it, my fingers trembling as the cold metal of the gun touches my skin. I grasp it tight. I don't know how to shoot, but I don't want to disappoint Dean. I'm sure I can figure it out.
Dean then turns back toward the door, the two men nod at each other, and then Sam reaches a hand out to the door handle.
Before he can open the door, it's ripped off its hinges, and a shower of splintered wood flies in every direction.
It only takes a few seconds for the room to be invaded by creatures I don't think I could even describe.
Dean is rushing to me then, standing in front of me, trying to shield me with his body. I grip his strong arms and pull myself close to him. Tears run free down my face.
One of the creatures starts purposefully walking toward Dean, a determined look on his.
The gunshot makes my ears ring.
"Sam!?" Dean's voice is full of pain, concern, and worry. "What the-"
That's when I hear the closest creature speak, his voice like nails on a chalkboard.
"You have something of mine,"
I dare a peek around Dean to look at the creature, but my eyes go wide as I take in the sight of Sam, frozen in place, his gun raised, the bullet floating in the air a few feet away from the monster.
The disfigured creature does not look the least bit worried, although Dean still has his gun aimed at him, ready to shoot. I count at least seven more of the ugly things in the room.
"Give us back what is ours, and we will spare your life." The monster's words are kind of distorted, and it must be the large, crooked mouthful of inch long teeth.
Dean cocks the gun, hand steady, and reaches his other hand behind his back, grabbing my shaking hand for unknown reasons.
We are outnumbered. Sam is a statue, and I have no experience with this- any of it. Dean must know we have no hope. I cling to his hand, tears falling down my cheeks.
That's when the creature sees me, mostly hidden by Dean. The monstrosity attempts a smile. It makes my skin crawl.
"There it is," the words are a growl. "Come now, you pathetic thing, you belong to us."
I notice how the creature says 'belongs to us,' rather than 'belongs with us.'
"That's not gonna happen," Dean says, and I hear deep, primal malice in his otherwise beautiful voice.
The chuckle that comes from the monster is pure evil, and I cling to Dean, to my savior.
"Seize the mutt, kill the humans!" The leader of the disgusting creatures orders.
Dean's gun goes off, and then I hear him yell out in pain.
"No!" I cry, feeling Dean start to sway. Has he been shot? Because these evil beings want me, for whatever reason?
Dean falls unconscious to the floor. A sudden surge of rage comes over me, and I take one step forward, blocking Dean from the creature. The pain in my leg and side is agonizing but not as excruciating as the thought of losing Dean.
Somehow, the room illuminates as if a star has suddenly sprung up before us. The light intensifies with every second. So bright that I can't even see.
The energy in the room spikes, I smell burning flesh, and I hear the guttural screams from the monsters as they fry.
Just as soon as the light came, it blinks out like I had flipped a switch.
"Dean?" I sob, only spending a second to look at the heaps of charred bones where the creatures had stood only seconds ago.
"Dean, listen to me! Wake up!" My voice cracks with emotion. "I've got you! Please wake up, Dean! Please come back to me, please, I love you!"