bloodlust | d. winchester [DISCONTINUED]

chapter one.

bloodlust.

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Kiara had faced numerous amounts of monsters. She had stared death right in the face — quite literally. She defeated the leviathans, a race that was older than humans and were locked in purgatory by God. There she sat in a hospital chair, hunched over, chewing on her fingernails, worried about her friend who lay on the hospital bed in front of her, unresponsive to anything. A tube was in his nose to help him breathe, and his arm was strapped to a heart monitor, causing a steady beeping to sound around the room.

Dean was sat in the chair next her, in the same position. His eyes never left Sam, who could possibly be dying. Kiara looked up to the television, greeted by the same image they saw from that night at the church. The streaks of falling angels that were dismissed as a mere global meteor shower.

A doctor peeked his head into the room, catching the pairs attention. He gestured for the two to come talk to him. The two shared a glance before they pushed themselves from the chairs and met the doctor outside. He held Sam's medical scans in his hands which he handed to Dean.

Dean looked over the medical files, allowing Kiara to look.

"The MRI shows massive internal burns affecting many of the major organs. Oxygen to the brain has been severely deprived. The coma is the result of the body doing everything in its limited power to protect itself from further harm," reported the doctor to Dean and Kiara with a slightly solemn attitude.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Kiara sighed, running a hand through her dark brown hair.

"If your brother continues on this trajectory, the machines might keep him alive, but —" the doctor explained.

"He'll be dead," Dean finished for him, realizing the truth.

"Technically, yes. I'm afraid so," nodded the doctor.

"So, there's – there's no recovery?" Kiara asked, looking up at the deliverer of the bad news.

"I'm afraid that's in God's hands now," shrugged the doctor.

"You're a doctor. You're a medical professional. You're trying to tell me that my brother's life is in God's hands? What, is that supposed to be a – a comfort?" Dean asked, rather outraged at what he had been told.

Never had any of them believed in God — except for Sam. Since then, they had all joined together all of those years ago, they saw things that changed that. When Dean came back from hell, an angel by the name of Castiel who proved himself to be a good friend at times, but also to be a royal douchebag. He told them how God had abandoned his angels and humanity, leaving them to run on their own. The closest they had heard from God was meeting his messenger who told them of their roles in the apocalypse — Michael, Lucifer, and the Lover who went by Aenah, a fallen angel who was forced to chose between Michael and Lucifer.

"Mr. Dougherty –" he used the fake name Dean had checked them in with.

"No, God has nothing to do with this equation at all," Dean shook his head, unsatisfied with the thought of God.

"I didn't mean —" attempted the man.

"That's not good enough," Dean answered, turning away and Kiara watched as he walked in the direct of the hospital chapel.

Kiara returned to Sam's side, resuming her position in the chair. Nothing had changed it Sam, he was just unresponsive as ever. She had seen this man face countless things, now he could die because they tried to close the gates of hell. Her best friend, aside from Dean, was on the brink and death and part of her felt as though it was her fault. She was going to do the trials, but Sam was the one who got the hellhound blood on him.

Kiara, feeling helpless, decided to do something she swore that she would never do. She grabbed the Bible that was kept in the drawer of the side table and held it to her heart. She shut her eyes, and began to pray to the angels — any angel.

"Hey," Kiara began, feeling awkward of the situation, "I'm calling for all of the angels out there that can help. My name is Kiara Risch, and I probably have no right to pray, but I'm desperate, so please. Sam is dying, and he probably won't wake up. Any angel that still listens to the radar, just send someone. Please," she pleaded, a year slipping down her cheek. "Amen," she finished, unsure of how to really end.

She looked around the hospital room, expecting an angel to have popped up. Only thing she saw was Sam still in his hospital bed.