Mommy Winchester

Part 11

"Cail?" Dean demands. "CAIL!?"

"What's going on?" Sam gasps, running to where he can hear Dean shouting into the phone, a frantic look overcoming his features.

"Cail just called me," Dean gasps, tossing his phone through the open window of his door before jerking it open. "Something's happened, they're in danger - something happened!"

"What?" Sam barely has time to get into the car before it's moving, Dean slamming his foot against the accelerator and sending the Impala screeching around, almost jumping the ditch line as he guns it, heading back for the small town.

"I don't - fuck, do you think this was a trap?" Dean demands, his hands tightening around the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white. "Do you think they lured us out here so they could hurt them?"

"Dean, I -."

"Fuck, we shouldn't have left! One of us should have stayed behind!" he bursts, his eyes wide, worry for you and your son making his heart hit his chest so hard it hurt with every beat. "It was just a trap, it was -."

"It's okay, Dean," Sam bursts, panic settling in his own chest that he refuses to acknowledge. "At least - fuck, we know who it is, don't we? We know where to go, we just have to -."

"Hurry." Dean finishes.

Before they kill the both of you.

Or worse.

~~~~~~~~

Your head.

Oh shit.

God, why does your head hurt so badly?

You groan involuntarily as you try to open your eyes, the throbbing in your temples making it difficult to focus. Your head lolls, and you're briefly aware that you're sitting up for some reason, and you couldn't really move much.

Huh?

"Ah, looks like someone is finally waking up."

Who was that?

Where were you?

Where was Cail!?

You blink your eyes a couple times, having a hard time focusing.

Everything is blurry.

You squint, as you can see someone weaving back and forth in front of you.

The person sighs. "Perhaps I hit you a bit hard, sorry about that."

Who...?

What....?

You try to speak, but your mouth is thick, as if you'd bitten your tongue.

Owwwww.

You try your hardest to focus, everything still blurry and morphing together in your vision.

"I'm sorry about all this, Samantha," you hear someone sigh again, and you know the voice, you just... can't place it. "It wasn't... it was never meant to be like this."

What wasn't?

God, your head hurts.

You feel something touch your chin, lifting your head upwards, the lights making your eyes ache as a face swims before your vision, going in and out of focus until you're forced to squeeze your eyes shut, feeling nauseous.

"My, I really did do a number on you, didn't I? Sometimes I don't know my own strength."

Ow.

Ouchie.

Head.

Hurts.

You couldn't focus....