Her, To Home

Chapter#12

The blood was rushing to his head.

He had taken every beating, every bullet and every stab to not be standing in this moment.

And no matter how many times his unconscious had tried to prepare him, ready him- nothing could estimate the time he was now standing in.

He was feeling like everything he ever did in the name of Sara O'Brian had gone to waste. His whole existence felt like a waste.

Because the end of this story seems so unpredictable. He had always thought if someone had to die, it was him. He was suppose to die for her, he had given his whole life so she could breathe so why...why just for his few counted breaths, she put her own life on the line?

He didn't want to be here, he could still smell the scent of her blood, and it was imprinted in his mind, making him dizzy. He felt like he was swallowing it, his throat felt too damn tight. Breathing was getting harder as he tried to devour the small breaths of air he could still breathe but God, he no longer wanted too. There was no point to live in a world where O'Brian didn't live.

He couldn't feel his legs. He knew he would fall face first if he tried to stand. The constant rubbing, shaking made no difference. There was no longer any life in them.

He have forgotten how many times he had rubbed off his tears which had tried to escape, the air around him was unyielding. It was suddenly too cold. Every time he blinked, there would be a new tear waiting for him to rub off. He could no longer see clearly.

Not being able to stand the sight of her blood on his shirt, he tried to rush to the nearest bathroom. Falling and somewhat trying to find a way to walk again he reached inside and the second he did, he took his shirt off. Opening the tap, he put the shirt under the flowing water and started to wipe it- trying his best to get the blood off or at least scrap the smell which was pushing him over the edge.

Again the back of his hand came to rescue the tears which seem to come back every time he tried to stop them but he should have known because the shake of his whole body was making it impossible to even feel anything. The nonstop flow of tears had made his eyes so foggy that he could no longer see and helpless, he slides to the floor- the tap and shirt forgotten but he could finally no longer smell the blood.

His mind was going in circles, going through every possibility. But it was too much for him for his attempt to stop the crammed howl by biting his lip did nothing for a yelp escape his mouth and he curled in a small ball, right there in the bathroom floor.

No matter how much tried to disappear in the cold wall, he couldn't.

He had started to beg, to God. Plead from Him to let Sara live.

A sense of dark bitterness went through him. There he was, so helpless that he had turned to God who he didn't even believe in. He was begging for his life from someone he had long forgotten to ever exist but he knew that it was his last hope.

Drums were going through his head, the loud noise was making him cringe and at the same time, he was drowning in it. His sanity was hanging on a thin thread and he was letting it hand there, without caring that he was falling into something there was no return from.

He didn't know how many hours or seconds had passed when he heard his name from somewhere far away.

"Dean!"

"DEAN! Sh.....sten to ....e. Dean!"

Someone was calling him but he didn't want to answer. He had no life left in him to answer.

"Sara, she's..... You her... me?.... be okay!"

Sara?

He slowly opened his eyes and saw a blurred image of Jamie who was moving his lips but Dean couldn't hear him. What happened to Sara?