Sheva's Room
January
3 AM
Dean glanced over at the bed where Sheva lay, her face pale against the blood stained silk sheets, her breathing shallow and uneven. No matter what he did, he couldn't wake her.
"Come on, Sheva." He begged, shaking her gently. "You gotta wake up." But her eyelids remained stubbornly closed, and the panic clawed at his insides.
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration mounting. "Dammit." He pulled out his phone, hesitating for a moment before dialing.
"Sammy, pick up." He muttered under his breath as the phone rang. The sound echoed in the silence, each ring a reminder of how much was at stake.
"Dean?" Sam's sleepy voice finally broke through. "What's going on?"
"Sheva's unconscious." Dean replied, urgency fueling his words. "I can't wake her up. I've tried everything."
"The stripper? Is that where you are?" He could hear Sam, adjusting in bed. "Oh My God."
Dean could picture him, his fingers on the bridge of his nose. Sighing.
"Sam's voice sharpened, the sleep dissipating. "What do you mean everything?"
"I mean I've tried shaking her, splashing water on her face, even yelling at her. Nothing's working. She's just... gone." Dean's voice cracked, the weight of his worry spilling over. "I don't know what to do, man."
"Okay, okay." Sam said quickly, his tone shifting to that of a focused investigator. "What do we know? Has she been exposed to anything? Any spells or curses?"
"Just get over here... I don't want to explain over the phone." Dean began wiping himself down with a wet hand cloth. I'm at 422 Roan Circle. It's the little cottage.
"Okay... I'm... on it."
Dean heard Sam shuffling on the other end of the line.
"See ya soon."
He was not prepared with what he was going to tell Sam. He hung up, and paced back over to the bed. Dean put the phone down and turned back to Sheva, his heart aching at the sight of her. "Hey." He said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "It's me. I need you to wake up, sweetheart."
He took her hand in his, the warmth of her skin reassuring, but it only deepened the pit of dread in his stomach. "Come on, Sheva."
He was having instant regret. Had he done this? Was he too rough? How could he live with himself.
For a moment, he thought he saw a flicker beneath her eyelids, a hint of recognition, but it faded as quickly as it had come. Dean squeezed her hand, refusing to let go, holding onto hope that Sam would arrive with a way to pull her back from the brink.
The sound of tires screeching against the asphalt echoed through the parking lot as Sam pulled up in the Impala, the car's engine rumbling to a halt. Dean was already standing by the door in boxers. Anxiety etching his features.
"Dean!" Sam called, rushing toward him, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
Deans eyes darted back to the motel room. "She's still out cold. I can't get her to wake up."
Sam nodded, pushing past his brother and into the room, where the dim light barely illuminated anything.
He set the duffel bag on the table and immediately began rummaging through it, pulling out salt, a small vial of holy water, and various other items that could help them in this situation.
"Okay, let's set up a salt circle first."Sam instructed, moving swiftly.
Dean stood near the door, anxiety bubbling over. "You won't need it..."
"What do you mean." Sam held the salt in one hand.
"We had...sex." Dean walked over to the bed. Waiting for his brother to crack a joke.
"What." Sam had to hold in his chuckle.
"Did she die of embarrassment?"
"This is why I didn't want to explain over the phone. This is serious."
"Okay okay." Sam stopped, not taking his eyes off Sheva. "Can you check the bathroom? Maybe get a warm towel—
His eyes fell on the silk sheets beneath Sheva, and a cold wave of horror washed over him.
"Dean!" Sam shouted, his voice rising in panic. He stumbled backward, his heart racing as he processed the sight before him. "Oh—"
Dean whirled around, his expression shifting from determination to sheer terror as he followed Sam's gaze. "
"Her blood." Sam gasped, eyes wide as he took a step closer, almost afraid to touch the sheets. "There's blood on the sheets, Dean!" He pointed.
"I am aware of that..."
"What did you do to her?"
"I don't know. We had normal sex. I didn't do anything kinky, except after... but that's beside the point."
"Why is she bleeding Dean?"
"Did you not pay attention in health class? She was a virgin."
"No way."
"Yes..."
Before Dean could finish, a low, guttural sound echoed through the room, freezing them both in place. It was a noise filled with anger, a haunting wail that seemed to resonate from the very walls around them.
"Sam!" Dean's voice was a sharp whisper, fear etched on his face. "What was that?"
"I don't know," Sam replied, his heart pounding in his chest. "But we can't stay here. We need to get her out of this—"
"Get her out?" Dean interrupted, his eyes wide. "She's barely conscious! We can't just leave her like this!"
Sam clenched his jaw, trying to hold back rising panic. "I know, but if there's something in here with us—"
The wailing grew louder, filling the room with an unbearable tension. Sam felt a chill creep up his spine, and he instinctively stepped closer to his brother, the blood-stained sheets forgotten for the moment.
"Stay with her." Dean said, his voice fierce as he stood up, determination igniting in his eyes. "I'll check the rest of the room. If something's here, we'll deal with it."
"Dean, be careful!" Sam called after him, his heart racing as he watched his brother move cautiously toward the door.
"Yeah yeah." He grabbed his knife.
As Dean stepped into the next room, Sam turned his attention back to Sheva. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Sheva, can you hear me?" he whispered, brushing his fingers against her cheek. "Please, we're going to get you out of this. You just need to hold on."
But the silence that followed was deafening, and the blood on the sheets felt like a heavy weight pressing down on his chest. Sam's mind raced with fear—had he come too late? What had Dean unleashed.
Just then, Dean shouted from the other room, his voice filled with urgency. "Sam! Get over here! Now!"
Sam's heart dropped, adrenaline surging through him. He shot to his feet, glancing back at Sheva one last time before racing toward Dean, dread clawing at his insides. Whatever was happening, they needed to face it. There was no time for fear—not when Sheva was hanging in the delicate balance.
