Supernatural Season Three: A Dean Winchester Love Story

Malleus Maleficarum (1)

Malleus Maleficarum (1)

Kylie's POV

Sweat dripped down my body as calloused hands grasped and pulled at my limbs they went from my ankle all the way to the top of my head. I screamed, hoping that someone would save me. I cried out for Dean and Sam, but they were no where in sight. 

Did they forget about me? Did they leave me here to die?

Loud chanting filled my ears, I recognized the language as Latin but was not able to translate it. The voices were getting louder, a sharp cold knife pressed against my throat, and I halted my movements in fear of slicing hurting myself. The blade started at my neck, tracing down to the top of my shirt with the sharp tip. Crimson blood rolled down my skin, down between my breasts.

Dean stared at me, his eyes emotionless and his lips in a tight line. He looked so angry and so hurt. The green orbs glistened with tears, but he didn't dare let one fall.

What did I do?

The hands disappeared, yet I could not move. 

My breathing became slow and deep, my chest rising and falling with panic and slight exhaustion. "Dean, please." I broke the silence, knocking him out of his trance. "I don't-I don't understand."

"I loved you Kylie. I loved you so much." He whispered, his voice shaking as he looked deep in my eyes. "Why did you do this to me? Why didn't you save me?"

Tears spilled down my own cheeks, my vision blurred but I could still make out the anger in Dean's eyes. "Dean, we still have time!" I argued, raising my voice, but it only made him angrier. The grip on the knife getting tighter.

"You're not going to do it! You've been wasting time!" He rose the blade, watching it shine in the little light there was. "I don't have time!" He shook his head. "I'm undoing this deal right now!"

"Dean no!" I watched the blade head for my chest, the tip pressing into my skin.

I sat up with a start, glancing around the Impala like a mad woman. I grounded myself by rubbing my palms on the familiar leather seats of the impala, and listening to Black Sabbath fill the car.

It was okay. I was okay.

"Welcome back sleeping beauty." Dean called from the front, but his eyes were drawn to the folder in his hand.

"How long was I out?" I sat up in my seat, my back against the door where my burning head could rest against the cooling window. Reaching up, I wiped the sweat from my brow. Jesus, the nightmare really did a number on me. I was pretty sure I could still feel my heart pound in my chest.

"Eh, not long, I would probably say about ten minutes." He turned to look over his seat. A deep frown pulling at his lips as he saw my appearance. "You okay?" He questioned.

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, just a bad dream." I replied, my hands shaking as they reached for the clip in my hair, letting the curls flow down my shoulders.

Dean watched my movements, his eyes focusing on my unstable hands. "Must've been some dream." He commented. "You want to talk about it?"

I let out a snort, thinking about the days where Sam had nightmares about Jessica. He didn't want to talk about his dreams. So why should I?

"I think we both know the answer to that."

He rolled his eyes but nodded in agreement. "Yeah I knew you'd give a smartass answer." He gently tapped the back of leather seat with his palm. "Are you going to be okay to check out the house?"