Control - Dean Winchester [1]

22 ; Encountering Death With A Chaste Touch

Not my longest chapter, but I hope you don't mind :) THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO MY LOVELY AND AMAZING COMMENTERS FROM MY PREVIOUS CHAPTER, LOVE YOU ALL AND DON'T STOP BEING AMAZING

The bottom of Odessa's bare feet apprehensively contacted the frigid marble flooring, and tightly squeezed her eyes together as a sudden wave of vertigo crashed throughout her nerves. She gripped the edge of the bed, releasing a delicate groan as the whirling sensation gradually eased. There were flashes of resurfacing memories as she hesitantly launched herself forward, remembering the helicopter and the morning sky while she was quickly placed on gurney. She remembered the distant shouting of the several EMT's, clamoring voices and Sam's distinct outcry for Dean was the final memory reemerge. 

Her mocha-eyes widened momentarily as the memories of Dean's perishing moments, and her heart ached as she realized she didn't even know if he was alive. The disequilibrium hadn't bothered her any longer, and she nearly collided into several parading patients and nurses. Her eyes scanned the corridor frantically, hoping to see Dean absentmindedly ambling through the hordes of people, or lack thereof. The hospital lacked a freckled, green-eyed hunter and her heart twinged within her chest. Wandering eyes questioned her reticently as they indiscreetly scampered away. 

Truthfully, she was hoping she couldn't find Dean's room because she had a terrible sense of direction, not because he didn't have a room. Suddenly, a firm hand grasped her upper forearm, ceasing her from continuing her delirious scavenger hunt. The hand belonged to Sam, who looked fine considering the circumstances, and she sighed in relief. He released her, and wordlessly motioned she follow him. He guided her through what seemed to be a spiral labyrinth and halted before the entrance of the room. She was seconds from entering when Sam stopped her once again. "Look, I'm going to be honest with you," He said, "The doctor said the chances of him waking up are slim. They don't know how much longer," Odessa's expression faltered. "I'm gonna go to Bobby's and get the Colt from the trunk. My dad needs some stuff for protection against the demon. I'll be back." 

He kissed her temple, and reassuringly squeezed her shoulder, and wandered away from her view. Tentatively stepping into the room, she released the choked back sob and practically tumbled on her own feet scurrying to his side. She raised her hand to her mouth, warm tears brimming around her eyes. There was unexpected urge to puke, an urge to release every suppressed emotion she'd contained for months, but she couldn't. Knowing he wasn't able listen, she couldn't speak. There was a single-seated chair beside his bed and she settled herself on the uncomfortable cushion. 

She interlaced her fingers with his, just as they were when the collision happened, and relished the warmth radiating through his skin. His hands were calloused, evidence of the difficult labor called hunting, and she gingerly caressed his knuckles with her thumb. He, as expected, was unresponsive, and she stifled the whimper threatening to escape. "You promised," She whispered, voice wavering with each word. "You promised you wouldn't leave me." A tear cascaded down her cheek, and tightly closed her eyes, bawling as quietly as she could manage.