One More Time

35.

I wake up suddenly, sweat rolling down my face. "Hey, are you okay," Dean asks. I let out a few shaky breaths, shaking my head. I quickly open the door, shutting it behind me. I lean against the door, rubbing my tired eyes.

That was horrible...

"Hey," Sam says softly. I slowly look up at him. "Was it a nightmare?"

"Yeah," I nod.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"I was in my house, and I was trapped in my room. You were outside of the door... begging me to help you, but I couldn't," I start, remembering the dream so vividly. "I didn't understand what was happening. I finally got out, but you were-- you were lying on the floor with a knife in your chest," I continue, tears forming in my eyes. "It felt so real. You... You told me it was my fault-- that you begged me to help you, and I didn't-- I couldn't," I say, my breathing become more erratic. "It was my fault. I let you die. I didn't save you. I--"

"Hey," Sam interrupts me, tilting my head up to look at him. "I'm okay, I'm fine. It was just a nightmare. I'm not going anywhere," He assures me. "Just calm down."

"Sam, I can't lose you. I can't."

"I know, and I can't lose you either. I had another nightmare about Jess, how it was my fault, how I didn't protect her, how I couldn't protect her. I don't wanna make that same mistake again."

"You know that wasn't your fault, right," I sigh.

"I could've done something, anything to stop it."

"Could you have? I mean, it's not like you knew it was gonna happen. It's not your fault, it's that... thing's fault, whatever it is, and we're gonna catch it and kill it to avenge your mom's and Jess' death," I assure him.

"I know we will." We get back into the car, and Dean looks back at me.

"You alright?"

"For now. So what do we think really happened to this guy?"

"That's what we're gonna find out. Let's go." We hop back out of the car, walking toward the hospital.

Once we've reached the morgue, we walk inside, approaching the desk. "Hey," the guy says.

"Hey," Dean greets back.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah, we're the med students," Dean nods.

"Sorry?"

"Oh, Dr. Fliglavitch didn't tell you? We talked to him on the phone. We're from Ohio State. He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper," Dean explains.

"Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch."

"Oh. Well, he said, uh-- Oh well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind showing us the body, do you?"

"Sorry, I can't. Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him, if you want."

"An hour? Ooh. We got to be heading back to Columbus by then."

"Yeah," Sam and I nod.

"Ah. Look, this paper's half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us out?"

"Uh, look, man-- No."

Dean chuckles, turning away from him. "I'm gonna hit him in his face, I swear."

Sam starts to reach into his wallet, but I stop him. "I got this," I assure him. I look down at the man, bending over the front of his desk. He sits back slightly, glancing down at my cleavage. "Sir, this is really, really important to us. We can't get a bad grade on this paper," I sigh, batting my lashes at him.

"Well... as much as I'd love to help out, I can't," He sighs.

"What if... I make it worth your time," I offer, biting the corner of my lip.

"O-Okay, follow me," He stutters out.

He stands up, and I notice a bulge in his pants. I groan, glancing at Sam and Dean. "What? Least you got to keep your money, and we can get in."