Soothing Dean's Pain

Chapter 2: Beyond Help

     He was getting better. He was smiling more and sometimes even laughed. And then, not even a week later, it happened. Why did this happen? Why did this have to happen?

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     The walls here were a dark green. It wasn't necessarily pleasing to the eyes, but it was a fully functional rented room. It got the job done.

      Ever since that night- that night that irked me to to the core, the night where Dean had been at his worst- I had made a vow to myself to make him better. I wanted more than anything to not only be enough; I wanted to be his everything. I wanted to be his love, his chance, his medicine, his hope, his friend, his confidant, his worshipper. I craved to be both anything and everything he ever needed. And I truly believed I could be, if only I just put enough effort in.

     I soon saw it was the small things that made him smile the most. His hair was shaggy and sometimes all over the place, but that was when he looked his best. His eyes were a shade of green that contradicted themselves; they were tired but vibrant, weak but prepared to take on the worst. I could see the galaxy in his soul.

    "Well, I'll be damned," He chuckled as he walked over to me. "Are you cooking?" His smile was incredibly amused.

     "Well," I started, fighting to hold back laughter, "Yeah. I made a stop at a nearby market and grabbed some eggs and fresh produce. I figured maybe I could make us some breakfast burritos," 

     "I must say, it's been a long time since I've had homemade cooking," He sat at the small table behind me, where I stood at the stove. I could only barely tell that he was beginning to poke some fun at me.

     "Yeah, yeah, Now shut up and eat your breakfast,"  I said playing back as I finished preparing his burrito.

    "Feisty," Dean spoke through a mouthful of food, and then, "Hey, has Sam checked in yet today? He said he would be back here around nine. What time is it?"

     I reached for my pocket. My phone was not in there. "Oh, my. Yeah, he hasn't stopped by yet today. I'm not sure what time it is, but I can go get my phone out of the Impala and check," I extended my hand for the keys.

     "Be careful with my baby, Miss," He warned playfully.

     I looked in through the window and saw my phone lying on the back seat, just as I had expected it to be. After retrieving it, I locked the door and checked the time. It was 11 am. Sam should have been here by now. He's and tough guy, I thought to myself. He probably just got held up at the library.

    I walked back up to our room and swung the door shut behind me. I promptly turned back around to toss the keys to Dean. Cas was suddenly standing in the opening of the kitchen. Dean was on his knees, clutching his stomach as though trying not to vomit as a look of pure, white terror washed over his skin.

     Panic was budding like a flower of death in Cas's piercing eyes. He stared at me and said gruffly, "Something happened to Sam,"