Lousiana's A Sh*t Hole

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  (Dean's POV)

  Cold. That's all he could think right now. Is how about how cold he was and how he wasn't supposed to be cold because he was, well, dead. He shivered and forced his eyes to open. Trees, grass, dirt. So he was in the woods somewhere. He felt as if his head was going a million different ways as he sat up and winced, clenching his stomach and gasping in pain.

  That wasn't supposed to happen. He couldn't figure out why he was feeling things and was so confused that he felt like his brain was gonna leak out of his ears. So he did what any sensible, human, demon, whatever he was now, would do and called out for help. His voice was raspy due to his raw, dry throat and breathing became a chore. He grabbed at his throat and chocked out a sob. He didn't want to die again. He didn't want to be tortured and forced to torture others again.

  "Please." He croaked and coughed then laid back on his back, "So-Somone please, help me!" He screamed, his voice barely audible to himself, "I-I don't want to die please someone." He choked out and rolled onto his side to try and get a better look at everything around. Swamp. He bit his tongue and let a tear slip down his cheek. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried, feared death, felt so helpless. But he did now. And he needed someone to save him because he'd be damned if he ended up back in Hell.

  The man rolled into his stomach and looked around, trying to figure out which way had the most light because for some reason light to Dean was like a crackhead getting their fix right now.

  He reached as far as he could, locked his fingers into the dirt, and drug himself forward with a grunt. Every bone in his body felt like jello but it didn't stop him. One thought kept Dean going and it was that he had a second chance at life.

  By the time he'd gotten to some form of civilization-which happened to be some kind of boat docking place...a port, yeah that's what it was, a port. He though to himself hopefully. His shirt was basically torn to bits and his chest was rubbed raw from dragging himself along the hard forest ground.

  The green eyed blonde rolled onto his back, gasping for air and digging his fingers into the mud. After he finally calmed his heart and got his breathing under control he sat up and looked around, "Help! Please!" He yelled, his voice cracking and straining at every effort to speak, "Goddamit someone, anyone please!" He sobbed out and fell back into the mud, the smell of the sea filling his nose along with fire and fish. He laughed at the thought of what he looked like right now. Even if someone did come they'd just leave him here...maybe that's what he did deserve. To be left to die alone without hope of being saved.

  Dean let himself wonder, about life, about everything. He wondered about what Sam was doing, if Sam was alive. Maybe he'd gotten his dream and settled down with a wife and had a few kids. He laughed at that and immediately regretted that when he went into a coughing fit.

  He sighed and looked up at the stars, he could see them all, the asteroid belt, everything. He smiled and closed his eyes. Dying here wouldn't be so bad. He could almost fall asleep. The mud underneath him slowly seeping through what was left of his clothes. He'd finally let himself be okay with the thought of dying for the thousandth time. And was going to let it happen, that was, until he felt a big hand on his shoulder, "Ahhh shit." He heard someone growl under their breath. Dean let himself open his eyes and looked up into the man's face with a soft smile.

  "Mornin to you too sweetheart." He joked and went into another coughing fit. He wiped his arm across his lips only to look down to see blood. He laughed and threw his head back, delirious with blood loss.

  The guy above him looked scared as he slammed a hand over Dean's mouth, "Shuddup, would you?" He whispered harshly and looked around with wild eyes. All The blonde could think about was the man's accent, how heavy and slow paced it was. He looked to the spot southern boy had his eyes fixed on and instantly grew quiet. There were a few figures, all of them drinking and laughing loudly, "We gotta get you somewhere safe brother." He said softly and moved his hand away from Dean's mouth causing him to look to the guy who he'd now deemed southern boy until he figured out his name.

  He felt his head getting heavy and his eyes got drowsier and drowsier by the second. He let his head rest against southern boy's shoulder and closed his eyes, then everything was black.

•••
(Benny's POV)

  Stable ground, hard stable ground, no waves or storms. Just solid muddy earth. He sighed and took a deep breath as he stepped off the boat he'd been calling home for the past two months. The man tugged his hat on and stretched, popping his back and cracking his knuckles.

  "Feels nice to be back." A man said from his side and he nodded in agreement.

  "That it does Eli." He said and smiled then pulled his duffle onto his shoulder, "I'm going to head home and get everything packed up so I can get some essentials tomorrow." He said with a grunt and patted his friend Eli on the shoulder, "See ya' in the mornin brother."

  "Alright Benny, you know where to find me." He said as they parted ways. The Cajun sighed as he made his way to his boat house that was a few minutes walk away from the main port. He closed his eyes and just focused on the smell of the woods, someone was burning a fire, and...blood? He looked around cautiously then over his shoulder at Sorento and a few others that he'd never cared enough to learn the names of. They obviously hadn't smelt anything out of the ordinary so he focused on where the smell was coming from. He took a big whiff of the air tried to focus on the enticing smell of blood, blocking everything else out. He followed it a few more steps then came to halt and looked all around himself, trying to get his eyes to focus in the dark but was startled when he looked down to see a full grown man laying belly up in the mud.

  "Ahhh shit." He growled under his breath and knelt down, putting a hand on the strange man's shoulder. He looked up at Sorento quickly then back to the man. He watched him closely as he opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was his eyes and how vibrant they were and how his freckles were scattered across his face like the stars. Freckle dude. He thought to himself, that's what he'll call him.

  "Mornin to you too sweetheart." He heard him slur out, taking him out of his thoughts. Freckle dude sound exhausted but he was...smiling. Benny didn't know what happened after that, all he knew was the blonde idiot with pretty eyes was laughing and was about to give away where they were. When he heard someone say something about hearing a noise he cured and slammed his hand over the guys mouth.

  "Shuddup, would you?" He whispered quickly and kept a close eye on Serento and the rest of his mob until they shrugged it off and went back to working.
Benny sighed and let his hand slide off of Freckle dude's mouth, "We gotta get you somewhere safe brother." He said softly and looked around then met the man's eyes and noticed how confused and scared he looked. He also noted the sleepy, glazed over look he was getting. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He didn't need this guy falling asleep. But, before he could say anything Freckle dude was slumped against his shoulder, his breathing labored, "Dammit." Benny cursed and looked towards his home was. He could probably make it without being seen.

  He picked Freckle boy up into a bridal style carry and walked him quickly but casually to his home on the water and laid him down in the cabin so he could get away from the scent of blood. It was driving him crazy now that he was coming off the small adrenaline high he'd been on while trying to stay hidden, "Fuck." He groaned and put his face in his hands then went down below to check on the strange man he'd pulled out of the mud. He was good looking to say the least, a strong jaw but a pretty face. Light freckles scattered across tan skin. He almost looked like something out of the stories his mom used to read to him as a kid. Like a Prince Charming.

  The man ran his fingers through his short hair and shook his head, reminding himself that he couldn't think like that right now. He reached above his head into a small compartment and pulled out a first aid kit he had...just in case? He honestly didn't know why but at least it was helping now. He went back upstairs to grab some type of alcohol then came back to the unconscious Freckle face man. He ripped Dean's destroyed shirt off the rest of the way and started cleaning his wounds. The alcohol helped with the smell of blood so Benny had calmed down a bit.

After he'd made sure the raw, scraped, and gashed torso of said stranger was as clean as it was going to get he propped the man up the best he could and started wrapping his body. When he finished he laid him back down carefully, pulled a blanket over him, and flipped off the lights before going to get some sleep for himself, even though he didn't need it.

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