ℑt was a ten-hour drive to Bobby's in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Nadia was ridden with anxiety most of the ride. Usually, her medication lasted all day, calming her mind and filtering out any voices that weren't her own. But the voice that led her to Dean was still there and more distorted than before.
Sometimes it was loud, then soft. The words would break up like a skipping CD. It took her hours to figure out what it was trying to tell her.
"𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝘿𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙒𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧."
"𝙃𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙨𝙩."
"𝙄𝙩'𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙙𝙪𝙩𝙮."
"𝙊𝙣𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮."
"One life for the sake of many," she mouthed.
What did that even mean? What did Dean need protection from?
It'd been a long time since she heard voices. Let alone one that was specific and evidently had such insight into what was going on that it told her what to do.
Dean could tell that there was something wrong, though Nadia insisted otherwise. In case she was crazy or on the edge of a breakdown. She kept her thoughts to herself.
A yawn escaped Nadia's lips; she her hand cramped from holding the steering wheel too tight. Her body wanted to rest, but her mind wouldn't let it. Sleeping didn't come easy for her. The voice in her head would make it worse if she didn't get it to stop.
Nadia carefully reaches across a sleeping Dean to the glove compartment. She tries not to wake him, but he jerks awake, grabbing her wrist as if she were a perpetrator.
"Sorry, I just need something out of the . . ."
"Sorry," Dean blushed in embarrassment, letting her go.
"Don't apologize. After what you've been through, you get a pass."
Dean only grimaced. He hadn't said anything but the memories from Hell were as fresh as his healed corpse.
"Put these back for me, would you?" Nadia gives him the pills after taking her dose.
"Olanzapine," Dean reads the bottle. She was to take one a day.
"What are these for?" he witnessed her take a breath of relief and settle into her seat.
"They uh . . . calm me down. Clear my head."
"What? Like happy pills?" Dean joked.
"No," she chuckles, dryly. "They . . . "
Nadia's face grew worried.
"You don't have to tell me," Dean sensed it was a personal and sensitive matter.
"No, it's fine. I'd rather tell you, so you don't think I'm crazy." She takes a breath. "They're antipsychotics. When I was six, I started . . . hearing voices. They weren't violent or anything. . . just there.
And to make matters worse, I had this imaginary best friend. I can't remember her name or most of my childhood, really. Just that I took her existence a bit more seriously than any kid usually would. I wasn't possessed. So, it was the psych ward. Or one pill a day keeps the voices and delusions away."
"Hm," Dean took the information with a pensive nod. "You haven't been hearing or voices the entire time, have you?"
"No," she lies. "It's just . . . when the meds wear off. I get this horrible headache and anxious." Nadia glances at him, worried. "You don't think I'm crazy, do you?"
YOU ARE READING
Fighter: Dean Winchester (REVAMPED VERSION)
Fanfiction"She was a true fighter, you could see it in her eyes. She was not born strong, she was made strong." ---- [LATE SEASON 3 - SEASON 4] ---- I DO NOT OWN SUPERNATURAL. ONLY MY ORIGINAL CHARACTERS AND PLOT.
