Sam Winchester x Reader: Together (A Supernatural Fanfic)

Chapter 17: Return

I walk out of the house, frowning at the amount of red liquid my clothes absorbed. Although, that isn't the only reason. I've felt like that woman before. Hopeless, and empty. So unhappy that I just didn't want to be in this realm anymore. The pure numbness that overwhelmed me couldn't be tamed for years, but now, here I am. I stayed alive. I didn't stay down when things went wrong, I got back up and fought against the feelings that tried to consume me in my darkest time. I told myself that everything was going to be okay, and that I was going to live; that I would never feel that way again. But now, I can't help but notice that the lingering touch of that day that has surfaced.
Pulling at the ends of my sleeves, dark blood drips from the material, forming a small pool on the ground that runs off between pebbles. The shapes it makes are almost mesmerizing. There's no way that I can get into my car like this, so I hurriedly pull some new clothes from a bag to slip on. The switch was fast, and there can't be anyone nearby for quite a while, so I know that I'm safe. I toss the old clothes on top of a duffle sitting in my passenger seat. After wiping my skin off with a rag, I hop into the driver's seat to head back to my hotel. This time however, the radio shakes the frame of my car.
As I pull up to the building, I can't help but feel a slightly darker tone in the area. The soft colours of the walls no longer feel warm and comforting, instead they seem to be emitting a gloomy aura. Quiet murmurs can be heard from all corners of the lobby, even though nobody seems to be there. They aren't spirits, that would have an entirely different impact on my senses. This isn't something like that. In this moment, I remember the pillow I left on the floor in my room. My feet carry me hurriedly up the stairs to my floor, and to my hall. The entrance to my room is flung open, and an almost hissing sound crackles from behind my bed. I find myself gripping the handle of my dagger with white knuckles as I step in. The hissing stops when my footsteps make the floor creak and groan. Air heavy and heart heavier, I scoot around the side of my bed. A woman in a spotless cleaning uniform crouches on the ground, the palms of her hands a deep maraschino red. She glares at me, eyes flicking black.
"She's coming,"
The lady pulls her hands into fists.
"And there's nothing you can do."
The cleaning lady's almost timid nature flushes away when she stands up, ready to launch herself towards me. Before she can, I slam her against the wall, holding her shoulders in place. Her name tag reads 'Yvette'.
"YVETTE! Stop this, now. You can just leave this place, and prepare for whatever is going to happen on your own. Nobody needs to get hurt!"
I whisper shout, keeping my hold firm on her. She wriggles around, trying to escape, but I'm much to strong for her.
"NO! You don't understand what's going on, you don't understand it at all! You're just a hunter!"
"Yes I do,"
My hold on her tenses, becoming even more tight than it was before.
"I'm not a normal hunter."
She tenses up, her eyes widening to saucers. Her red lips open to scream.
"THERE'S A--"
I slap my hand over her mouth, and shove her to the floor with all of my power. Being me, I shuffle a few steps back to rummage through my bag whilst Yvette attempts to force my hand from her face with both of her own worn hands.
She fails.
Finally, I pull a large roll of duct tape from a pouch. My teeth tear the end off, and I sling the tape around her head until her mouth is sealed. In a flash, I also tape her hands behind her back to her ankles. She tries to push through the tape, flinging herself wildly around the space on the floor. I need to leave.
Right now.
I throw the tape back in my bag, and run around my room to pick up the remaining items that still sit out. Yvette hits the back of my calf with her forehead, her eyes squinting in concentration. With a quick toss I put the last of my things in my bags before zipping them up and slinging them over my shoulders. Beads of sweat slip down my temples, loud, pounding footsteps now making themselves present in the mass of noise now coming from this room. I dash out just as two men step away from the elevator. Their eyes flick black as well.
'I don't have time for this...'
I think to myself, frantically looking around the hall. Upon closer inspection, one of the men was the one in the elevator with me. He must've found out about what I do. The men each pull a large hunting knife from their belts that shines in the clouded light. I prepare to run past them, calming my breathing to hopefully make the pass without a lot of effort. As I do run, my heart pounds, struggling to keep me moving with the extremely heavy bags and stress I'm going through. And though I step through the two of them fairly easily, I'm not fast enough. One of them manages to reach out to me and cut a huge gash down my entire back. Those can't be normal hunting knives, although I shouldn't, I look back to see if I can tell what the material is, and when it clicks, it makes a lot of sense for the pain I am now in. But still, I bolt down the stairs at top speed to my Barracuda. Not even bothering to open the door, I slip my bags into the car through the passenger seat window. I also grab an old t-shirt I left on the seat to press against my wound for the long drive to the bunker. Painstakingly, I slam into the drivers seat and close the door hard, starting the engine just as the two men and Yvette barrel out of the front doors. They come to a stop when they see me pulling out of the parking lot. Even though I wince as I drive, I can't wait to get home... Wait.
I have a home again.
I pull up to the bunker hours later, still in immense pain. But, I grab all of my bags and heave them in through the door and to my room.
My room.
I don't need to worry too badly about the t-shirt right now, it's stuck to me with rock hard, congealed blood. I do, however, need to worry about the cut underneath it. But somehow, right at this moment, I feel a strange sense of calm. A touch of serenity in this insanity that seems to follow me.
And it's gone the second I step into the hall.
Hard, intense pain rolls over my body, like a hot iron on an ironing board. It focuses at my head, crippling me to the ground. The shirt falls, my wound gushing blood at an alarming rate. The wine coloured liquid drips from my nose and from my ears as well, ringing accompanying the burn like sensation over my body. Not a burn feeling from a hot coffee or hot stove, like being burned alive. Pounding arrives in my head, hitting me over, and over again. I wait for it to go away, like it usually does, but it doesn't. Instead the heat and the hits get stronger. In a last form of defiance, I start to drag myself to the main room. I don't know what I'm going to do there, but something feels right about it. The fiery feeling surges again, blood leaving a trail behind me now. Everything hurts. Everything burns. I feel like I'm being killed from the inside out. I can't make it all the way into the room, but I hear voices now. Not just the boys, though. Another voice speaks as well. And then another, but it soon leaves. I claw my way just a few inches forward, uttering a guttural groan, hoping to catch someone's attention. Anyone's.
"Oh my GOD!"
Sam's voice fills my ears, and I know I've succeeded. An almost smile fits itself on my face. Two obvious gasps come from ahead too. Dean, and that other person. It seems so familiar, but I can't put my finger on it. The three of them hurriedly run over, and Sam brushes the hair from my face that obscured my vision. He crouches next to me, Dean next to him. I try to utter 'help,' but something else comes out when the other person steps into view.

"D-dad..?"