Sam Winchester x Reader: Together (A Supernatural Fanfic)

Chapter 7: Struggle

Another dark bottle of beer. Another glass of whiskey. A month has already passed since I met the brothers and left them behind in a trail of dust. The pain is still raging in the back of my head, but I dull it with more and more alcohol every day. It's getting worse but I still continue my hunts. I've talked a large group of demons out of mass murder, letting them pity themselves. I walked away smirking after the shadows tumbled out of their vessel's mouths only to drown my struggles shortly after on the floor of my motel room. Now I'm doing just that, reflecting on my past. I've made my way to Cody, Wyoming and I'm staying in a random motel I couldn't care less about. My bottle of wine taunts me in the corner, and I place my beer down.
The world turns and flips, encouraging me to lay down, but I stumble drunkenly to the drink.
"Commeee... Herrererreeee..."
I slur, but when my hand reaches for the bottle, it tips off the corner, falling to the stained carpeting and shattering into tiny pieces. Tears well up in my eyes, following my brain's incoherent blabber. I find myself against the wall, speaking in gibberish to the glass. Some time passes, and to my surprise I awaken from a slumber, my head slamming around more than ever. Furniture blurs, the dim light over the door mimicking a star. When I shift, my temples feel as if they explode. Pain surges throughout me, and I clutch my shoulders, trembling. Words soar through my thoughts.
Call them.
They could help.
You would endanger them!
It's not like they even care about you.
CALL THEM!
My phone rings. I drag myself across the floor towards the sound, gnawing at the inside of my cheek to contain screams as I do so. It feels as if my body is tearing itself apart from the inside out, it's a burning sensation. Blood begins to flow from my cheek and drip down my chin, then eventually through my long sleeved shirt. Time seems to slow when I grasp the device and answer the call. A familiar voice comes out from the speaker.
"Y/N? You there?"
The pounding subsides when Sam speaks. I wipe off the blood.
"Yeah. What's up..."
I curiously sit myself up beside my bed. No pain.
"I was just wondering where you were, you left a long time ago and never even bothered to try and call. Dean and I made up, he was actually really mad at himself after you left. He says he has a bad feeling about you, but he wants to ignore it. I don't understand why he feels that way in the first place but... What I'm saying is, do you want to meet up somewhere?"
I pause, and consider my options.
"Sure. I'm in Cody, Wyoming. You anywhere nearby?"
I mentally slap myself. Why would they be nearby?
"Uh, we're a couple hours away from there. What motel are you at?"
"I'm honestly not sure. One of the ones near the very edge of town. Sorry, I couldn't tell you."
I stand up, and start walking back and forth, the throbbing just a silent companion, barely noticeable.
"It's alright. We'll probably be there sometime tomorrow. See you."
"Bye."
He hangs up, and I sit on an armchair in the corner. Why did it stop with him? I still feel comfortable, so I get up and look around for my laptop. It's placed on the table next to where the wine was, and I hop quickly over the shards then back again. Pressing the power button, I wait patiently for everything to load correctly. Just a little while later, I am scrolling through Wikipedia pages, and WebMD. According to them I might have a small tumour, or something of the like. That's enough internet. Once again after pouncing over the remains of the bottle, I slip under the covers of my bed. I slept for a long time, and yet I still feel tired. All of the pounding still sits dormant, or just barely awake far behind my train of thought, so I begin to question things, gazing at the ceiling. What exactly am I infected with? Where did I get it and why didn't Sam have it? Why does it disappear with his voice...? I look to my phone that I set at the foot of my bed, and consider calling one of my siblings. They may be able to help, but I doubt that they would even care about me after all this time, and what I've done. Any one of them could have some sort of idea, although they may not be the best. A split second decision makes me leave it there, and turn onto my side with a soft sigh. I will get through this, and the guys are coming tomorrow too. So, what is there to be unhappy about right at the moment? I force my way through the gruesome images before me when I close my eyes, and dip into a heavy sleep.