Freaking Witches

Ashes, Ashes, We all Fall Down

Through his haze of thoughts, Dean heard Gabriel approaching as he started to bark out orders. "Come over here Cas," Gabriel directed, "Set Dean down over here."

"Where's Sam?" Dean found himself murmuring anxiously. He didn't see his brother anywhere, and Dean needed to make sure his brother was here. If he didn't make it through this, Dean wanted to make sure he saw Sam one last time. Dean had to know that Sam was alive and well one final time. If he died without making sure Sam was alright, Dean knew his soul would never rest easy.

"Dean, I'm right here," Sam said, suddenly standing right beside him, one of his large hands grasping at Dean's arm. Relief flooded through Dean's veins at his brother's touch. Though reality seemed to be slipping through Dean's fingers, he'd know that touch and that voice anywhere. His brother grounded him for the moment and helped ease the worry that was invading his mind like the plague. Sam felt like home to him, and as long as his brother was alright, Dean didn't care what happened to himself. If Sam was okay, Dean knew he'd be okay too, no matter the outcome.

He wanted to say something to his brother, maybe make a joke to ease the tense, but as soon as he opened his mouth, it was like he had forgotten how to talk. The words he had been about to say instead bubble up as a scream of agony. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as a burning pain began to build at the base of his spine. The sensation was so instantaneous that it demanded all of Dean's attention and drove all other thoughts from his mind. Any attempt to stay focused on his surroundings was demolished by the fire burning inside of him. What he was feeling now was far worse than the contractions had been. The white-hot pain rushed through his body, traveling across his veins and taking control of his muscles.

His eyes were squeezed tightly shut against the tears trying to well up behind them. Dean barely noticed when Cas set him down onto a large soft surface. He shivered involuntarily as cool, cotton sheets rubbed against his heated skin. Dean moaned softly as the fabric soothed his fevered, sweaty skin. Until now, he hadn't noticed how hot the room had become. He was sure that before long the sheets beneath him would be soaked in the sweat that was freely running down his face.

Above him, a harsh light began to shine down on him, making Dean flinched and turned away. He began to weakly struggle as someone started tugging at his eyelid, trying to get him to open his eyes. Then distantly, as if someone was speaking to him through a long tunnel, Dean heard Gabriel say, "Dean I need you to look at me."

When Dean refused to respond, someone began to grab at his face, fingers digging into his cheeks. This time, Dean opened his eyes, ready to fight whatever was attacking him. His he did, he was forced to meet golden amber eyes. Dean furrowed his brow in confusion as he blinked - once, twice, three times - before everything came back into sharp focus. His eyes flicked away from Gabriel for a moment to eye the silver flashlight in the archangel's hand. That would explain the ridiculously bright light he had seen moments before.

As Dean glared at the object, Gabriel flicked off the light and snapped, "Hey, look at me," so he could regain Dean's attention.

As soon as the light was off, Dean trained his eyes on Gabriel again. Immediately Gabriel began to talk again, his voice intense and full of authority as he said, "Dean, I need you to-"

The rest of the sentence was lost to Dean's ears when another strong contraction broke his concentration. His breathing was heavy and labored as he tried unsuccessfully to hold back his screams.

When the worst of the contraction had passed, Gabriel slapped his cheek, leaving his skin aching.

"Fuck you," Dean growled angrily. He already was in enough pain; Dean didn't need anyone slapping him in the fucking face on top of that.