"Look out!” You threw the blade with impressive aim, and it cartwheeled through the air. When it hit its mark with a sickening thud, the demon crumpled to the ground. The green-eyed man turned around just in time to see her go down, and he fixed you with a grateful look.
"Thanks." You shook your head.
"Don't thank me yet," you warned, your tone grave. "We still have to get out of here alive." He nodded and took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.Â
The usual soft glow of warm, white lights were replaced with a pulsating red, a warning that your safe space was no longer safe. Your whole world was suddenly drowning in red, and it made the blood spattering the walls and pooling on the floors look ominously black. The tall man at your side took a deep breath, though you could tell he was trying to keep calm for your sake.Â
The two of you took a second to gather your bearings, him readjusting the bandana around his neck under his thick beard, and you retrieving your blade from the demon's corpse, one of many littering the extensive hallways. As you flicked droplets of blood from your weapon, you noticed the slight tremble in your hand. You hated that. This was not a time to be scared, but you were. You couldn't help it.
"Hey." You turned at the sound of his voice. "We got this." When all you could offer was a shaky nod, he snaked an arm around your waist, angling your face upwards to press his lips to yours.
Adrenaline mixed with something else coursed through your veins, and your heart thundered in your chest. If this was your last time kissing him, you wanted to make sure it was one neither of you would forget. You caught his lower lip between your teeth and tugged, making him growl low in his throat. His hair was soft against your hand as you wove your fingers through the strands, his beard scratching against your face. When you finally pulled away, his breathing was hard, but then, so was yours. His forehead rested gently against yours, and you could taste the spearmint from his mouth on your lips. With one more chaste kiss, you finally let go, though you had never wanted to do anything less. "If we can just make it through the library, we're home free," he said. "From there, we just get up the stairs and run like hell."
"Right." It was a solid plan. Now you just had to hope that both of you would stay alive to see it through. He rolled up his sleeves a bit before looking at you with the most serious expression you had seen him wear.
"Let's move." Those two words set you into motion, and suddenly, you felt more ready than you had ever been. The two of you moved in perfect synchronization and had the situation not been so dire, you would have been extremely impressed with yourself. You never thought someone would ever match you well enough to think of moments of teamwork such as this like a perfectly fine-tuned machine, but he always did, and he always had.
This was life or death. There was no room for mistakes. This was a deadly game of hide-and-seek, and the loser would pay a price so steep it was unspeakable. It didn't matter. You both knew that once you got to the library, they would be waiting for you. They had caved the garage in, so this was your only escape, and you were going to have to fight tooth and nail to get to it. The second you reached the large archway, what you had already known was confirmed. A dozen demons stood between you and your exit. It was twelve versus two, and the odds were, without a doubt, not in your favor. But then, you had never been one for numbers anyway.
You cast one more fearful look over at him, hoping he would offer more words of reassurance, but it was too late. You had already been spotted. The two of you had barely stepped into the library when the hoard descended on you, immediately surrounding you. Despite the overwhelming fear that you weren't going to make it out alive, you fought with everything you had, the green-eyed man never leaving your side. Time seemed to almost stop, and your heart rate slowed as you forced yourself to focus. Even if this was how you died, it was a hell of a way to go.
Again, all you knew was the color red, and the dark blood that sprayed through the air in fine mists. You couldn't tell whose was whose anymore, and you only hoped you wouldn't turn around when it was all over and seem him on the floor dead behind you. When it was finally over, you were completely out of breath and absolutely soaked in blood.
"Go, go!" The man ushered you to the staircase with a hand on the small of your back. "C'mon, we gotta get out of here before-" A mouthful of blood bubbled over his mouth, and you saw it: the tip of a blade - your blade - piercing through the fabric of his shirt, right through his stomach.
"No!" The demon behind the green-eyed man yanked the weapon free, and you felt sick. You weren't even sure when you had dropped it, or how the demon had gotten hold of it, but-
"Sweetheart, run!" The man choked out as he put pressure on the wound, sinking to his knees. “Run!” Tears blurred your eyes, but you made your way back down the stairs. There was no way in hell you were leaving him behind.
"No," you said firmly, acutely aware of the fact that more demons lingered in the archways of the room, drawn out by the sounds of a fight. You stood in front of him, protectively, holding his hand tightly in yours. "I'm not leaving you here." The demon smirked.
"Then, you die too." You didn't even have enough time to react before the creature thrust the blade into your chest, and pain seared behind your eyelids.
"No!” The man's voice echoed in your ears as you finally collapsed to the ground, defeated. "Sweetheart, stay with me!" he ordered. "Stay with me!"
Your eyes flew open, and you bolted upright, gasping for breath in a cold sweat.
"What the hell?" you muttered in the darkness of your bedroom. You had had vivid dreams before, but nothing like that. The pain and emotions you had felt were so real, and you were having a hard time separating them from reality. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what you needed: a drink. You didn't condone alcoholism, and you didn't usually make a habit of going straight to a bar after waking up, but you were willing to make an exception just this once. Thankfully, the nearest bar was five minutes away, and still open, so you were there in record time, greeting the stale scent of alcohol in the air with a grim face. Still unsettled by the very reel feeling of losing everything, you sunk down wordlessly into one of the barstools at the counter.
"What can I get you?" the bartender asked when he approached.
"Whiskey," you answered hoarsely. "A double. On the rocks." With a small nod of acknowledgment, he turned away and went to get your drink.
"A woman after my own heart." As soon as you heard the words, you would have sworn that your heart stopped beating. But... that didn't even make sense. It was just a dream. You had never met that man in your life, and he probably wasn't even real, for Christ's sake! You couldn't stop yourself from slowly turning in the barstool to face the man who sat next to.
As soon as you met his eyes, dread consuming your insides, a mixture of confusion and alarm filled his bright green eyes. "No," he breathed. You hadn't once said his name in the dream, and he hadn't said yours - you were positive neither of you had. But still, you somehow knew his name. It popped in your head like an answer you had always known, and you had never been more sure of something in your life.
"...Dean." Dean's hand trembled as he reached out, as if to touch you, but stopped a few inches away from your face.
"Y/N." He said your name with the same amount of confidence that you had, and understanding clicked in your brain. You didn't know how you knew, but you did. The two of you had the same dream. Shaking your head with utter disbelief, you lightly touched your lips where he had kissed you what felt only like moments ago.
"This isn't possible."
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