Skies of Fire

Fear

Dean's heart was pounding and everything around him seemed to be spinning. He felt like he was going to be sick. The closer that he got to the plan, the more Dean felt like throwing up what little food he had in his stomach. He just hoped that he'd be able to keep his lunch down at least until the plane had landed again. Dean's clothes already weren't in the best condition and puking all over himself wouldn't make things any better.

His airline ticket had been clutched so tightly in his hands that he had actually bent it a little bit. When he handed the attendant at the terminal his ticket, she had given him a funny look and asked if he was alright. He couldn't exactly remember what his response had been, but apparently it had been convincing enough for her not to ask any further questions.

Everything around him seemed to be passing by in a blur. Part of him hoped that someone would see just how freaked he was and refuse to let him board the plane. Maybe someone would think he was ill and prevent him from flying for the safety of the other passengers. To be honest, Dean was pretty sure that he really was getting sick. As he walked through the passageway to board the plane, Dean got a shifting feeling of unease. Some gut instinct was telling him that this was all wrong. There was something not right about this and Dean knew it. He and almost turned around and tried to make a break for it, but the person behind him cleared his throat and told him to keep walking. Dean hadn't even realized he stopped moving.

Dean's feet felt like led the moment he stepped into the plane. He showed his ticket to the flight attendant and vaguely heard her explain where his seat was. Dean moved like a zombie down the eye, his eyes looking at everyone but not really seeing anything. Around him, people were bustling and shifting, moving to their seats or putting things up in the overhead compartments. Dean knew he should do a preliminary scan of the people on this flight, but he just couldn't get himself to focus. His mask of bravery had been forgotten at the terminal entrance and Dean felt like he was four years old again, lost, alone, and petrified by fear. His heart leapt with anxiety as he felt rather than heard the strange popping of the metal floors underneath his feet. Part of him wondered if it was actually moving or if it was only his imagination. Dean decided that knowing the answer wouldn't make him feel any better.

As Dean got closer to the back of the plane, he checked his ticket again to figure out which seat was his. It only took him a couple seconds to spot the chair that was his. He tried not to focus on the fact the he had gotten stuck with a window seat. He had specifically asked not to be given a window seat yet that was exactly what they had stuck him with. The last thing Dean wanted was to be able to actually look out the window and see just how far up they were. He would be closing the shades on the window for sure.

"Fucking airlines," Dean grumbled under his breath, as the color drained from his face ever so slightly. The women he was passing by must have heard him because she shot him a dirty look.

The moment Dean's ass hit the uncomfortable blue seat he clipped the buckle. He rapidly reached over and pulled down the plastic shade on his window. Once the shade was in place, Dean braced his head back against the headrest, held tight to the armrest and closed his eyes. He mentally willed the flight to just be over already so he could be back on solid ground.

"Are you alright?" a soft feminine voice asked beside him.

Dean jumped slightly at the sound and opened his eyes to see who was speaking. While he had been silently freaking out, a woman had joined him and was sitting on his right. Dean had been so enveloped in his own thoughts that he hadn't even noticed her arrival.

He instantly began to analyze the women and assess if she was going to be any kind of threat to him. She was an older woman with soft mousey blonde hair and eyes the color of Sam's. Her face was etched with nothing but concern as he looked at him. Dean noticed that one of her hands was halfway extended towards him in what he assumed was supposed to be a comforting gesture.