Supernatural: Hunting, Living and Love

Part 6

"Dean, Dean!" A voice pierced through the ringing in my ears, dragging me out of a thick fog. I struggled to piece together what had happened. The last thing I remembered was being in the Impala—Y/N's Impala—with her... but where was she?

"Dean, can you hear me?" The voice called again, more urgent this time.

"Y/N," I groaned, but it wasn't her voice.

A splash of water hit my face, jolting me awake. My eyes shot open, and I found myself sitting at the edge of a pool. The memories came rushing back in a flood: the hunt, Y/N's anger, following her into the pool... and then nothing. That thing had taken control—I was possessed. My gaze was locked on the pool in front of me when two figures emerged from the water.

"Dean, I need help," Castiel appeared, cradling Y/N's limp body.

"No, no, no!" Panic surged through me as I scrambled to pull her from the pool. She wasn't breathing, and there was blood—so much blood. I didn't know what to do. My mind was a whirlwind of fear and desperation. I couldn't lose her, not now. Autopilot kicked in as I grabbed her and bolted for the front door, adrenaline fueling my every step. Cas was right behind me, shattering the glass doors with a wave of his hand so I could barrel through without slowing down.

"Here," Cas handed me her car keys. I didn't question where he got them—I didn't care. I flung her into the passenger seat and jumped into the driver's side, flooring it toward the hospital. As I drove, my mind raced to come up with a story. Maybe she fell into the pool from a second-story window? Or maybe it was a stupid dare gone wrong? I was grasping at straws when a sharp cry of pain and coughing snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Oh, thank God, you're alive," I breathed a sigh of relief, glancing over at her.

"Yeah, no thanks to you," she spat out, wincing as she tried to move in her seat.

"Me? What did I do?" I asked, concern and anger mixing in my voice.

"You—or the spirit that possessed you—attacked me," she shivered, her voice trembling.

"Are you cold? I could turn the heat on," I offered, reaching for the heater.

"Nah, it's broken..." she muttered, her voice trailing off as she slumped unconscious in her seat.

"Shit, shit, shit," I cursed under my breath, realizing it was probably the shock setting in. I pushed the car to its limits, and within 15 minutes, I was skidding to a stop outside the hospital. I yanked her out of the passenger seat and rushed inside, shouting for help as I burst through the doors. She was cold, but she was still breathing.

A nurse quickly appeared with a bed, urging me to lay her down. I hesitated, torn between the need to get her help and the overwhelming urge to protect her. I was frozen, unable to let go. A nurse gently placed a hand on my arm, grounding me just enough to let her go.

"It's okay, she'll be safe—I promise," the nurse reassured me.

I nodded, reluctant but knowing I had to trust her. I gently placed Y/N on the bed, watching as they wheeled her away, shouting about trauma shears and portable X-rays.

"Y/N's a fighter. She'll be alright," the nurse spoke up, her voice firm yet kind.

"How do you know her?" I asked, surprised as I turned to face her.

"We went to high school together; we were best friends," she smiled nostalgically. "After graduation, I chose med school, and she pursued more creative endeavors."

"I'm Dean," I introduced myself, holding out my hand.

"Oh, the new boyfriend Rachael was talking about," she said with a warm smile, shaking my hand. "I'm Lina. I have to say, I'm surprised she finally found someone interested in her."