floral and fading [supernatural]

a day in the life

His back is pressed up against the bathroom wall and his hair is all sweaty against his forehead.

He feels feverish, his legs are about to give out under his own weight and he can't seem to stop shaking.

Come on Dean, what kind of hunter can be so weak?

The air feels thick, he's gasping desperately for it but it feels like he's in outer space, there's no gravity or oxygen keeping him alive.

Suddenly he's on the floor, which is as clean as the rest of school toilet's pavements are, but it's not like he takes notice of that.

Actually, he really can't take notice of anything at all except for the fact that he's freaking dying, cause he can't hear a sound and his vision is blurred.

The hell is this now, Dean?

He wonders if it would be that bad, dying.

Cause he's damn close to being gone right now, and maybe he's considering the option of just letting go, just go.

It's not like he will be needed, and maybe nobody will really miss him, after all.

He can almost taste it with the tip of his tongue, eternal rest, everlasting peace, freedom.

It doesn't sound too bad, especially compared to living like this, always holding his breath and never tasting what it really feels like to be alive.

He wonders if he really exists at times, cause he sure doesn't feel like someone who is out of his family.

You save people. They need you.

And that's true. It's something he reminds himself every morning while he looks for a reason to open his eyes.

He saves people, but right now (maybe cause he can't breathe or maybe cause everything has turned black) he thinks he's selfish enough to let himself die.

What about Sammy, though? Who will take care of him? And what about dad? What would he think if he could see you right now?

That's when he wants to fight it.

When he thinks of his little brother all alone in a world too big, dark and dangerous for him without anyone to guide him through it, he wants to fight it.

When he thinks of letting his dad down, of leaving him without any of the help he denies to need but that he craves so deeply in his heart, he wants to fight it.

But then he's spinning, and he's falling, and someone must have turned the switch off cause there isn't a thing anymore.

°

He comes to in a white room.

It takes some time before he can gain total consciousness and even a longer amount of time before he can put his surroundings into focus.

"Dean?"

He doesn't recognize the voice but he turns his head in the direction where it came from.

"Are you feeling okay?"

Dean squints his eyes until a chubby boy who looks around his age comes into focus.

He's confused as hell, doesn't have a clue on what's going on and his head is buzzing.

So he clears his throat, which feels rusty, and asks:
"Where am I?"

The kid is quick to answer.
"You're at the hospital. I found you in the bathroom, passed out. Apparently you had a panic attack."

A damn panic attack? That kind of thing does not happen to Dean Winchester.

It makes sense though, cause what he felt as he was losing all control over his body could be described as total and blinding panic.

But it still doesn't feel right, cause he really can't be that weak.

He can't let emotions get the best of him like that. It's simply unacceptable, damn humiliating.

The kid (he's pretty sure he's never seen his face before) is shifting uncomfortably in his chair, and Dean can't help but wonder why in the world he stayed when he's nothing more than a total stranger to him.

"Do you want me to go call your brother? Your dad is not here yet, but he's on his way apparently."

He subconsciously stirs at the mention of his brother.
"Sammy?"

"Yeah. I'll go get him. Do you need a nurse, or a doctor or anything else at all?"

He simply shakes his head, feeling all at once too tired to answer.

"All right." says the kid and he stars making his way to the door.

"Wait." He speaks up, and the other boy stops to face him. "Umh, what's your name?"

The kid is now smiling for some reason, dimples appearing on his cheeks, making him look so much younger than Dean, who has eyes as deep as the ocean, far too tired of seeing things.

"It's Noah." he says simply, right before disappearing out the door.

And like that he's alone, surrounded by white, with violent thoughts bouncing inside his head.

It takes what is a minute but feels like an hour for Sam to enter the room.

He doesn't say a word, just sprints his way to the bed and climbs by his brother's side, clings to him like his life depends on it.

"Hey Sammy." he greets softly, his fingers tangled up into Sam's too long hair before he even realises it.

"I thought you were going to leave." is all he says, and Dean can tell he's fighting off tears.

"I'm not going anywhere." and he really is not, cause if there's someone he would find the strength to fight against the want, the need to be free for, that someone sure is Sammy.

a/n : i wrote a following piece to this one shot called waiting on a friend and you can find it in my works if you're interested.
anyways, thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed :)