Dawson's Daughter | {BOOK 1}

10|Cured

The audience was still encouraging Dean to go up on stage as the Reverend smiled, getting more and more excited by the second.

"Get up there!" Sam joined in with the crowd.

Dean reluctantly rose to his feet, glancing over at me briefly, but I refused to meet his gaze. I was still upset about him flirting with Layla. He slowly made his way toward the stage, Sue Ann moving to assist him and standing him next to Reverend LeGrange.

"You ready?" the Reverend asked him.

"Look, no disrespect, but ahh, I'm not exactly a believer," Dean admitted.

"You will be, son," the Reverend smiled. "You will be."

He turned to the crowd, addressing them.

"Pray with me, friends."

The audience raised their arms in the air, clasping their hands with each other. Sam and I were the only ones not doing it. On stage, the Reverend placed one hand on Dean's shoulder and the other on the side of his head.

"Alright now. Alright now," he muttered to himself.

Dean's eyes glazed over and his knees began to weaken, slowly sinking down until he was kneeling with the Reverend's hand still on his head.

"Alright now," the Reverend muttered one last time.

Dean wobbled, eyes rolling back in his head as he slipped to the stage floor.

"Dean!" Sam and I shouted, hurrying up to the stage.

Around us, the audience was clapping excitedly. Sam grasped the front of Dean's hoodie and I lifted his head gently into my lap as his eyes burst open and he gasped.

"Say something," Sam urged him.

Dean didn't respond, staring intently at the spot right next to where the Reverend was still standing.

⁘

"So you really feel okay?"

"I feel fine, Sam," Dean responded unhappily.

We were back in the hospital, getting Dean looked at. A doctor entered the check up room then, reading some paperwork.

"Well, according to all your tests, there's nothing wrong with your heart. No sign there ever was. Not that a man your age should be having heart trouble, but, still, it's strange it does happen."

I swallowed, thinking about how I was just thinking something similar the other day.

"What do you mean strange?" Dean asked the doctor.

"Well, just yesterday, a young guy like you, twenty-seven, athletic. Out of nowhere, heart attack."

"Thanks, doc."

"No problem."

The doctor left us alone after that.

"That's odd," Dean muttered.

"Maybe it's a coincidence," Sam suggested. "People's hearts give out all the time, man."

"No they don't," I countered.

"Look, guys, do we really have to look this one in the mouth? Why can't we just be thankful that the guy saved Dean's life and move on?"

"Because I can't shake this feeling, that's why," Dean answered his brother.

"What feeling?"

"When I was healed, I just... I felt wrong. I felt cold. And for a second... I saw someone. This, uh, this old man. And I'm telling you, Sam, it was a spirit."