Devil With a Smile

finaleigh

A/N. They're a long one! Buckle in for a shitload of sarcasm folks! Also TW: there is slight mention of self-harm so watch out.

The exhaustion in your bones says you can't have been out for more than a couple moments, but the fighting's over. Every instinct in your body is telling you to get up, to do something before they kill Jack, but you can't. You can feel the distant weight of the shelves on top of you, but even if they weren't, you couldn't do anything anyway. The pain that was only moments ago overwhelming is now only an echo, and you can't feel your limbs. You can't even open your eyes. 

You struggle, feeling yourself move, but knowing you aren't even twitching. It's annoying, this knowing of things going on around you but being unable to do anything about it. Wait- you can! Allowing your mind to sink even deeper into the darkness, you decide to try what your dad showed you years ago. Taking a deep breath, you push out with all your strength, and this time when you open your eyes, you're no longer trapped. Well, your soul isn't, the rest of you isn't so lucky.

Turning toward the center of the room, your blood runs cold. Beauty Queen has Jack- no. Has the demon in a chokehold, not letting go until its arms, one stained with your brother's blood, fall limp at its sides. Only then does he release his hold, not bothering to catch the body as it falls, and you wince as your brother's nose smacks hard against the floor. You run to his side, attempting to roll him over, forgetting you are currently incorporeal, and shudder at the feeling, or lack thereof, of your hands sliding through him. Dean reappears in the corner of your vision dragging a chair from Gods know where, which he rather unceremoniously plops your brother's body into before tying his limbs down, making certain he can't move. 

You watch as he steps back, admiring his work, and curse (glad Cas isn't here and can't see what sign your hands just made), annoyed at the fact that his knots are better than yours. His head snaps toward you, and you freeze, thinking for a moment that he can see you, before his proud expression becomes one of panic. Following his gaze, you see Moose crouched over the shelves on top of you, face indicating that he's screaming for his brothers help as he attempts to lift them. (A/N, think that scene in The Sandlot. You know which one.) 

Oh shit. Yeah, you should probably see what the damage is. Before you can move, Dean rushes through the space you occupy and you shiver again at the awkwardness. He helps his brother lift the shelves, the taller one holding them up the best he could as Dean pulled you out as gently as possible. 

Wow. You look like literal shit. You didn't think it was that bad, but damn! Blood covers your torso from the giant slivers sticking out from the broken shelves, and your wrists look worse than before, the broken one turning a sickening shade of purple as it swells. 

Your hair, usually somewhat cared for, is now as knotted as it can be, and matted to your skin with the blood from your several head wounds. As well as your aforementioned wrist, your left leg is twisted unnaturally, and your neck doesn't look so right either. Shit you're off your game. Sure, you've never fought a demon before, but still! You should have been able to at least do some damage, and still been fine! It's not like a Winchester brother would die from something like this, that's like one of them dying from falling on a nail or some shit. You're not dead though. You think. Oh, shit, yeah it doesn't look so good. Seeing as how Dean's currently attempting to give you CPR, it might be worse than you thought.  

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