𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗥 , supernatural

[58] a witchy evening

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT: A WITCHY EVENING
season 3 episode 9
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"Selene, save him!" Sam shouted as pleaded with his desperate voice and child-like eyes. His brother laying on the ground, coughing up more blood by the second, Sam kept him in his arms not wanting to leave his side. Partly because he was unsure what else to do.

Selene shook her head, snapping herself back into the reality of the situation. Dean was dying, Sam needed her help, she had to pull it together.

Quickly rushing forward, Selene dropped to her knees next to Sam. Dean was on his side, a pool of blood laid glistening on the tile below them. The crimson red slipping over his lips, eyes dripping with tears from the pain.

"It—it's the coven, Sam." Selene spoke, trying to keep her voice somewhat levelled despite the shakiness that gave her away. She didn't want to sound panic, not when she could feel so much of it radiating off of Sam. Selene can fix this—she has to fix this.

Turning her head to the younger Winchester, Selene instructed him, "Find the hex bag, and burn it!" The words were simple for Sam to understand, he jolted up from the ground and started on the table nearby. Searching under it, around it, and same to the chairs.

While Selene was just about to get up from the ground, ready to help Sam look for the thing that could free Dean from his magical torture. But a hand came crashing down around her wrist as went to push herself up, her eyes landed on Dean's hand. The one stopping her from moving.

His eyes found hers, the tears inside his made the ones in hers burn hotter with the urge to fall. Blood covered his perfect skin, a pain and fear tainted his features. Dean gripped her tight, but was gentle when he pulled her close to him. As if he was scared of his own movements.

Dean didn't need to use words, she understood what he wanted. Without much thought, Selene kneels closer, pulling Dean's body up closer to her, keeping him on his side while she cradled the rest of his body. Wrapping her arms around him, clinging onto him just as tightly while Dean shook and vomited out of the blood filling his lungs.

Without Dean being able to see her face now, Selene was in tears, crying silently into Dean's shoulder. She should be able to fix this, she should be able to help him. If she had her powers, none of this would be a problem, Dean would never have to know the pains of dying—Sam would never have to know the fear of losing his brother. Selene could help them both, she could make up for all the damage she caused.

"Selene, I can't find it!" Sam shouted, making her sit up a little to look over at him. She hadn't even heard anything or even noticed, but when she turned to look at the rest of the room. It was destroyed, the mattresses had been ripped up, along with the pillow. Sam had looked just about everywhere he could get his hands on, the man was about to tear the drywall apart next.

Selene's eyes scanned the room, not because she was examining the mess Sam made. But because she was now searching with her eyes, waiting for the familiar pull of magic to lure her in. If there was a hex bag in the room, Selene would find it—but she couldn't. Because there wasn't one.

Softening her eyes, she looked at Sam again, giving it a simple shake. Telling him she was just as lost, she didn't know how to save them. She didn't know how to erase that look on Sam's face or how to stop Dean's pain.

Sam's face hardened at this, as if something inside him changed. As if a he had flipped switch, an anger, a red hot anger boiled inside of him. Without even a second thought, Sam was making a run for the door, grabbing the keys off the table and leaving. Selene knew where he was heading, she knew where he was going to do something. To try and save his brother because Selene couldn't. Because Selene failed.