The Witch and The Hunters

CHAPTER NINETY-TWO

Page count: 12

Smashed beer bottles and shattered glass were scattered across the floor.

Pizza boxes were upside down with its contents stuck to the carpet.

A flailing, shouting woman was stuck to the wall, held tightly and magically in place and unable to free herself.

Warm, red blood was pooling and soaking into the carpet.

Dean Winchester held his dying wife propped up against his chest, his legs on either side of her, his arms wrapped around her and his shaking hands pressed tightly together over her stomach in an attempt to stop the bleeding. His head turned slightly with his nose buried against his wife's neck and curls, tears falling from his eyes and muttering pleading words against her skin.

"Please wake up. Don't leave me; I need you. You promised me."

He lifted his head from her neck and looked down at her, seeing her too pale, beautiful face, looking as though she were just sleeping, but he knew differently. He removed one shaking, blood covered hand from her stomach and brought it up to her face, cupping her cheek and smoothing his thumb over her cheek bone.

"Please wake up," he begged quietly, staring at her, willing her to do as he asked. But she didn't.

He closed his eyes tightly, feeling his tears stream down his face and he moved his hand to her neck, checking for a pulse. There wasn't one. His wife, his beautiful, kind, kick-ass Angel was dead. She had been taken from him. She had been murdered.

A sob tore from him and he let out a shout of anger as he wrapped himself around her and held her against him tightly, burying his head in her hair and rocking them as the scent of blood, caramel and apples invaded his nose.

"What are you doing! She's dead! You're free of her now. You should be thanking me!"

Dean's head moved so fast he made himself dizzy. Through his bleary eyesight he locked onto Jo, still stuck to the wall but no longer flailing around and trying to break free. She looked angry, victorious, hateful, confused and happy all at the same time.

"What have you done?" He said quietly.

"I freed you," she replied.

"You killed her, you killed my wife," he spoke. "Why would you do that? What did she ever do to you?"

"She's evil, she had you under her spell, but now you're free and we can finally be together."

Suddenly something inside of Dean snapped. The shock and grief gave way to anger. Anger like he'd never before felt. Anger that was so overwhelming he felt his heart pounding in his chest. He heard his blood being pumped through his veins. His vision clouded and he felt dizzy.

He tore his eyes away from Jo and looked at his wife. Another tear fell as her closed his eyes and lowered his head, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then one to her lips. He pulled back from her and gently placed her on the ground, before standing up and slowly approaching Jo.

"I knew you'd understand," she sighed, calming down. "Help me down, would you?" She asked.

Looking at him, her body stiffened and a small gasp fell from her lips upon seeing the dark look in Dean's eyes and the cold fury that seemed to surround him, the temperature in the room plummeting as if there were a spirit present.

"Dean?" She questioned quietly.

"You killed my wife," he said emotionlessly, despite the tears still falling and his building anger.