Warning: Mentions of rape, domestic violence, and possible warning signs of a panic attack
You didn't know how long you had been lying there, but you knew you should be dead by now. They still weren't back from wherever they had ended up, probably the victims' homes, and you knew normally it'd be lights out by now. Your headache had subsided, but you still couldn't speak or move, it was like you had been frozen or paralyzed and you were just trying to keep sane. At first, you started panicking, worrying that you were about to die, but now that you suspected that moment passed, you needed to slow down. You started taking slow deep breaths through your nose since you couldn't even open your mouth and you focused on what you could see. You were on your side, so everything was tilted, but you started tracing the pattern of the carpet with your eyes and sent yourself to your happy place.
That used to be when you were younger with your parents and some friends, just hanging out at your house. Whenever you were in a tough situation that seemed hopeless on these hunts or you got a little too lonely, you put yourself someplace warm and safe. Now, you found yourself in the bunker. You were having a movie night with the guys and fighting over the last candy bar with Jack. The four of you sat around the TV with popcorn and snacks, watching whoever's pick it was that night. Snuggling into Dean's warm lap, laying your head back on his chest, you found yourself closing your eyes and enjoying everything.
In reality, a tear slipped down your cheek at the thought.
"Y/n? I got your message and-" Sam came barreling through the door, much to your relief, followed by Jack and then saw you lying on the couch, not moving, "Oh my god, Y/n!"
He rushed over and checked for a pulse, before seeing your eyes move. The worry in him made you cry more, and he helped you sit up as Jack sat next to you.
"What's wrong with her?" Jack all but shouted at Sam and Sam was looking between the two of you.
"She's been hexed."
Any other time you would've teased Sam for how lame that sounded, but you physically couldn't. They searched the room, tearing it apart, for the bag, but came up with nothing. They looked at you whenever they paused, just to be sure you were still breathing, and to all three of your surprises you were.
"Should we...you know." Jack faced Sam, gesturing with his eyes to you and Sam sighed.
"Yeah, I'll call him."
Your eyes widened at his words and you wished desperately you could at least shake your head. The last thing you wanted was for them to call Cas or Dean because you knew they would just get mad at you for being so reckless and confronting the witch on your own. But in your defense, you weren't sure if she was the witch or not before meeting her. Not that any of that would matter because you wouldn't be able to explain yourself any time soon.
While Sam called the number, leaving it on speaker, you realized that she must've either casted the spell at the house or slipped you something. She never left your sight and you never took the drink she offered, so it had to be something else. The only other thing you could think of was...
"Hey, Sammy." Dean's voice erupted over the phone and your eyes were immediately drawn towards it.
"Dean, uh," Sam cleared his throat, looking towards you, "One of us got hexed and we can't find the bag. Can you or Cas think of anything that would explain it?"
One of us.
He didn't want to tell him because if Dean thought it was Jack, he'd be more understanding rather than angry and this way he didn't have to lie.
"Let me get him." Dean told him roughly and then the line went silent.
You sent Sam a glare and he winced, knowing how you felt about this.
