~~~~~~Hey guys next part goes from back and forth from first person, don't panic because I've done this before in the chapters like Castiel and Pie and Love. I just thought I'd warn you. I'll put stars up so you know when it goes back to Hope's point of view~~~~
Sam had attempted sleeping, but he could not. Every moment he closed his eyes he saw blood and fire. He sat up off the floor. Screw it, Sam thought to himself, I can always sleep later.
Dean was sleeping, as was Hope. He shuddered as a memory of being tortured took him and he stood up in agitation. He didn't want these memories of hell, but he needed them. They were a part of him now, and he would still be in a coma if he didn't have them. He walked over to the sink, leaning against it as the familar pain of being tortured filled him. He clenched his teeth, trying not to cry out and wake Dean or Hope. There was nothing they could do, and he didn't want them to worry.
Hope was worried enough, she had been so uneasy about taking them to the Anti-Christ. Even if it was someone they knew, she was afraid it would destroy them. Sam was afraid it might destroy her. He knew she wasn't fragile by any means, but he knew she was upset by her last vision when she found out that she couldn't leave. Only death was the way out, and she had fought to hard to keep herself alive to just take it away. Sam had known a person who had killed himself, Hope just wasn't that type of person. She would fight instead of die.
"Hey Sam," Dean said, standing in the doorway in his boxers. "You get any sleep yet?" Sam shook his head, not bothering to lie. The sweat and exhaustion on his face was proof enough.
"No, I can't."
Dean's eyes narrowed. Castiel, he growled in his thoughts. Its his fault Sam is this miserable. Whatever friendship had been there had been replaced. Maybe a couple years back Castiel being God wouldn't have bothered him at all. But that was before he was overloaded on power. Now he didn't know what exactly to think, but he knew he would not forgive him for what had been done to his brother.
Dean turned when he heard the rustling of the covers in the bedroom. Hope was sleeping, and sweat clenched her body and spasms traveled down her spine. He ran to her, wishing he could do something to help.
******************************************************************
The alley was dark, Jesse Turner walked along the side of the brick wall. Shattered glass and trash littered the area. A sign ran alongside the corner Woodward Ave. A dark beast followed him, her eyes locked on him. Her eyes were coal black, her blonde hair falling behind her, wearing black heeled boots, a denim skirt, and a red top. She was only three yards between them.
Deep barking came from another alley, dark and menacing.
I jumped up. Sam and Dean saw me this time. Sweat beaded my body, my hair was plastered to my forehead. They waited expectantly for me to make a dash for the bathroom. I didn’t move, my heart pounding in my chest.
“We need to go.”
The drive was silent as we headed down towards the ocean. There my eyes stared at the passing lights and street signs. We were going towards him. We would meet the Anti-Christ.
I had expected more, my body to tremble at the thought of seeing him, but it did not. Part of me was ready to meet this guy who could beat Castiel.
I tried not to linger on the sound of the dog barking in my vision. I had never heard anything so vicious, it sounded like the very thing that could have crawled straight out of hell.
How right I had been.