Accidents Happen

Misnamed Fate

A/N: Ah, the ending of something is always hard isn't it? But well, I truly enjoyed writing this, so I hope you guys liked reading it.

Word count: 2,110

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: gun pointed at reader.

"True love stories never have endings."- Richard Bach

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A hint of wet dirt accompanied the air that suddenly ran into your nose, scorching and scratching at the flesh of your nose and throat as you took a breath–your first true breath in months. Your lungs expanded and contracted as you gasped, eyes flying open and pupils dilating to try to identify any source of light in the darkness that surrounded you. However, the overwhelming obscurity did not bother you in the least, in fact, it made your heart beat hard with excitement. You were alive.

Your hands felt around the uncomfortable wooden box that encased you, rough wood meeting your skin and spreading small dust on it. Air ran fast through your mouth as you kicked the structure, quickly trying to break the stiff material open. The oxygen could run out fast, and you would be damned if you let yourself be beaten by something as simple as that. It had been hard enough to get back, and you would make sure that you wouldn't go return in a long time.

Finally, with beads of sweat dripping down the sides of your head, you heard the sound of wood cracking as you kicked at the top of the coffin one more time. You felt dirt seeping in the small crack and falling inside. The smell of petrichor filled your nostril; it must have rained earlier. Faintly, you realized that it had never rained in your heaven–you had missed it.

After giving yourself a few seconds to rest, you started to kick again, keeping in mind that you didn't have a lot of time to get out. The cracks were slightly muffled, but they grew more and more every time you kicked, and that was all you cared about. It took you almost a minute, but it was all worth it when a piece of wet wood fell down on top of your leg, bringing with it some of the moistened earth. Judging by the easy way it separated, you guessed that it couldn't have been very long since the earth had first been dug.

Your chest heaved up and down as you shifted your body, changing positions so that you were now where your feet used to be. You cursed internally at the fact that the coffin was so small while also thanking the Men of Letters for being so ancient that the wood was already rotting, making it easy for you to pull at the top. It was still agonizingly slow to finally make a hole big enough for you to squeeze through, though, so you sighed in relief when you were able to do so.

Your back and head ached, your hands shaking and reddening at the hard effort it had taken to break down the wood. Damp earth had fallen in and was taking up a great deal of the space, but you tried to put as much more in as you could, now being able to be in a crouching position.

Heat spread across your cheeks and chest as you started to submerge yourself into the abyss of soil. The dark mud got in your nails as you clawed your way through the earth, holding your breath in as you fought to break through the small roots of the new grass growing above you. You were close to the surface, you could feel it.

Suddenly, your fingers weren't surrounded by anything except for the air. With the last bit of strength you had, you pushed yourself up, nails and hands clawing at the dirt.

Then the dirt was gone and you gasped and coughed, finally breaking through the ground. You quickly wiped as much dirt off your eyes as you could, groaning while hoisting the other side of your body away from the compressing trap of mud.

Your heart was beating quickly in your chest, pounding hard against your ribcage, and then you were finally free. You fell on the ground, the ground scraping your cheek as you laid motionless, too tired to roll to your back. The air that moved in and out of your lungs felt like something holy, going to each and every single cell in your body and making you feel more alive than ever.