Confetti it's a Parade Book 2

Sleeping Beauty Part 2

**Before reading this, please go back and skim the first part. I noticed an error that changed the entire way the story was going. Sorry for the mix-up. And a hint, it has to do with what the witch did to the reader.**

"Dean." You whispered, after the witch had fallen. Rushing over to him, you dropped to your knees, pulling his head onto your lap. He was heavy, and limp, slowly breathing in and out, letting you know he was still alive.

"Is he?" Sam asked behind you, crouching down to look at his brother, fearing the worst.

"No. But I don't think the witch did him any favors." You said, brushing your hand along his cheekbone. He seemed so peaceful, so unlike your normal Dean, and it scared you. 

"We need to get him out of here. And then figure out what she did to him, and what we can do to reverse it. Damn it, I shouldn't have killed her!" Sam exclaimed, frustrated at himself.

You laid Dean back on the ground, before standing up and placing a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder. "Sam, you did what you needed to do. Otherwise she probably would have killed all of us. Now figure out a way to get him out of here, while I search through her stuff. I bet you security will be up here soon."

Sam nodded, pulling himself together, and went off, a plan already forming in his mind. You perused the room, looking for any items that would help. You spotted an old fashioned carpet bag off to the side of the room, and you went to it, hitting the jackpot. Inside were a multitude of items, including an old, leather bound book. Tossing the notes that were laying next to it inside, you clicked it shut before turning back.

Sam was back in the room already, a wheelchair in front of him. "Really? A wheelchair?" You teased.

"It's the best I could do. Figured we could cover him with a blanket, pretend he's a sick person." Sam said, bending down and picking up his brother with a grunt.

You held the wheelchair still, feeling it recoil as Sam dropped his brother into it. His head lulled to the side, and your heart froze for a moment that you might not be able to help him.

Grabbing a blanket off of the bed, you tucked it around Dean. "That will have to do." You muttered.

Thinking fast, you searched the witches clothes, pulling out a simple white dress. "What are you doing?" Sam asked you.

"Maybe it will look better if there is a nurse pushing him. Or at least a woman that looks like a nurse." You explained.

He didn't argue any further, but reached for the bag. Opening the door, he made sure the coast was clear, before you pushed Dean's wheelchair out.

It was tedious going, with Dean's unconscious body continuously sliding out of the wheelchair. After waiting for the elevator, you pushed Dean in, only to find you weren't alone. Two older women were standing off to the side, giving the three of you weird looks. You saw one whisper to the other, and you hoped they wouldn't give up your ruse. "He had a rough night." Sam explained, but the women just crowded farther into the corner, not saying a word.

It was a tense ride, and you held your breath, hoping the elevator ride would hurry up. Finally, when the bell chimed, you pushed Dean out, hurrying as fast as you could without making a scene.

You breathed a sigh of relief when the Impala came into sight. Sam rushed ahead, opening the door, before sliding his brother into the back seat. Leaving the wheelchair on the sidewalk, Sam gunned the Impala down the road, straight back to the motel.

Pulling into the parking lot, you were out of the car before Sam had come to a complete stop. You grabbed the bag and opened the door while Sam struggled to carry his brother inside.

After laying him on the bed, Sam turned to you, breathing hard. "So, tell me exactly what the witch told you. Maybe that will help us locate a reversal spell."

You thought back to the tense moments. "She called Dean sleeping beauty. That was it. No other helpful hints." 

"Hmm." Was Sam's answer, as he turned to the bag full of items. "So, she placed a sleeping spell on Dean. I wonder if a kiss will save him like in the story."

You touched your lips, feeling the ghost of the witches lips against yours. "Haha." You just laughed, even though you weren't feeling the slightest bit humorous. You actually felt as if you could throw up, knowing that you could never kiss Dean, or anyone else again. 

"Wait, why don't we try it? What's the worst that could happen? Dean would turn into a frog?" Sam teased as he began skimming through the witch's spell book. You could feel tears threaten to fall, emotions clogging your throat. 

"Let's try to find a way in the book first." You said. Sam hadn't been fully conscious when the witch spelled you, so he probably missed most of it, or didn't realize you were cursed as well.

"Okay." He said, staring at you strangely, and you turned your back to him. "Y/N, what's going on?" 

"I just think we should look at all of our options first. Please." You whispered, not wanting to go into details any farther.

Sam came over, placing his hand on your shoulder. "What did the witch do to you?" He asked quietly, and the dam holding your tears in broke.

"She cursed me!" You yelled, wrapping your arms around yourself as the pain washed over you. "She cursed me lips! Said if I tried to kiss anyone, ever again, I would die!" 

"What?" He couldn't believe it. "So I did see her kiss you. But that explains things."

"It does?" You asked him, tears still pouring down your face. 

He sighed, running his hands through his hair, turning to look at his brother sleeping peacefully on the bed. Waving his arm towards his brother, he explained. "Yeah, he's sleeping beauty. The fairy tale says that only true love can break the spell. Well, you love Dean and Dean loves you. So it would have been easy to have you kiss him and break the spell. But now, if you do that, you will die."

"I would do it in a heart beat." You admitted, and Sam grabbed your shoulders, making you look at him.

"No, you won't!" He insisted. "We will find another way, and save both you and Dean. But we need to be calm, and think things through." 

"Sure." You said, tears clouding your  vision of Dean. It was horrible, seeing him like that, and knowing you had the cure, but couldn't use it.

"Promise me you won't try anything." He insisted, not giving up until he believed you.

Taking a deep breath, you gave Sam a weak smile. "Of course Sam."

"Okay." He said. "Let's get to work."

He took one side of the table, and you the other, Sam going through her spell book while you went through all the separate papers, searching for anything. The hours ticked by, and you grew more depressed, thinking there was no way you were going to save him. Sam seemed as distressed as you, running his hands through his hair as he kept flipping through the pages of the book. "There has to be something here." He muttered. 

You had already gone through all your papers, finding nothing that could help. You placed your head in your hands, frustrated that there might not be a reversal spell. Sam stood up, placing his hand on your shoulder a moment before making his way into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

As soon as Sam was out of sight, you were at Dean's side, staring down at the man who meant more to you than anything. Running your hand lightly along his cheek, you knew there was only one way to save him. The witch knew that, and that's why she did it the way she did. 

"I'm sorry. But I have to." You whispered. "I love you too much to leave you like this. You and Sam, you need to go on, saving people. It's better this way."

As you heard the bathroom door open, you leaned down, pressing your lips to Deans. Closing your eyes, you poured all the love you felt for him, into the single kiss, feeling the magic travel through you. He gasped underneath you, just as you felt yourself become extremely dizzy.

"Y/N, no!" Sam yelled, rushing forward to catch you as you fell backwards. As you grew weaker and weaker, you saw Dean struggle to sit up, looking your way. You gave him a soft smile, mouthing I love you, before your eyes closed for the last time.