State of Seduction. // Dean Winchester COMPLETE

29.

The rules of hopscotch are simple. You can play the classic hopscotch where you draw ten squares on the ground in chalk in the standard pattern, throw a stone and always end up hopping to the end in a matter of moments. Or you could mix it up, draw a different pattern of squares and change up the rules. My life, was once the classic version of hopscotch that was easy and that I liked to play because the difficulty level was so low. But now I felt like I was playing the advanced version of hopscotch that was harder and wasn't over in seconds, I felt as if what had once been a normal, easy game to win was now what I essentially thought of as hell.

Every little part of me hurt and even though a few days I had been terrified of dying, I was now welcoming it with open arms. Honestly, death would be better than all the pain I was in right now and on the surface I didn't even care about everyone that I was leaving behind. Sure, me dying was going to suck, but I couldn't think of anything better right now. A distressed cry of pain fell from my lips involuntarily as I tried to move. I could hear Dean in the corner of the room get out of the chair he hadn't left and come sit by the side of my bed, but opening my eyes seemed too painful to even think about so I didn't. I felt his hands hold onto mine, which were devoid of all warmth.

"Do you need anything?" Dean's gruff voice asked. I knew that he was worried and I knew that he was scared about what was going to happen after I finally died. Because as far as I figured out, the apartment would fall to hell. Yesterday, Sam and Bobby had appeared and wished me luck before they dropped Kevin off and continued on their way. I assumed they were going on some hunt but the way I had caught Dean and the two of them conversing secretly in the hallways when I had stumbled to the bathroom, I wasn't sure that that was what they were actually doing. Though I didn't have the energy to push on it, just like I still wanted to know about the Djinn case in Indianapolis but there was more important things to discuss when I actually felt I could talk.

Instead of replying, I squeezed his hand with as much force as I could manage which wasn't actually that much these days that symbolized no, I didn't need anything. He squeezed it back before releasing the pressure and I tried to move again, pulling a tissue to my face with the rest of my energy as a deep, wet cough came out of my throat and I tasted the iron taste of blood as it came out of my mouth and spattered into the tissue. Releasing my grip on the tissue after I felt that I was finished, I pushed the tissue away from me and felt Dean carefully take the ruined tissue away from the bed and into the bin, my eyes still clenched shut. It was easier to control the earth's spinning if I kept them closed, because dizziness was something I had to grow accustomed too if I wanted to survive with my eyes open and look into Dean's face one more time.

"Hey," His voice was soft, "Open your eyes for me," Another whimper of pain left my lips, hopefully letting Dean get the message that I couldn't. Well, I could. But it wouldn't be worth the after affects of opening them for five minutes. I felt his fingers brush against my cheek bone and though it felt nice, I squirmed because the nice feeling quickly settled to pain in the pit of my stomach. "Open your eyes, Reed," The fact that he called me Reed made me realize how well he was actually keeping it together. Usually when he was scared or angry or upset, he would call me Kale. But the fact that he wasn't made me feel slightly better and I braved the dizzy feelings and the bright lights as I slowly wedged my eyes open, only to stare straight into Dean's face with his wide green eyes.

My stomach churned as I felt the world turn upside down, but I kept my eyes locked on Dean's. His lips turned upwards in a small, sad smile as his fingertips brushed my cheekbone and then proceeded to push the hair back from my face as he leaned down and kissed me gingerly on the forehead. His lips ignited electricity throughout my body and I had to move just to get myself to even out because the electricity was hitting me like lightening bolts and I wasn't sure if I just felt butterflies, or if I was just going to vomit. Eventually, the electricity died down as Dean removed his lips from my forehead and shuffled his position so that he was laying down beside me on the bed, carefully moving me so that my head was propped up on his chest.

I could feel his heart beating softly and it made the tiniest of smiles appear on my pasty lips as I clenched the material of his shirt in one of my hands as I nuzzled myself as far into him as I possibly could. This would be a nice way to die, not the way I wanted to go, but nice nonetheless. It would be nice if I went right now, feeling the safety radiate off of Dean and into me, it would be nice if I went in his arms and it would be so, so nice if I died right now while I knew that he was here, caring about me, ready to say those three little words but not wanting too because if he did, everything would change but it would still be the same because I was still going to die. I heard the flutter of wings and willed myself to look over in to the corner of the room where Castiel had appeared, "Hey, Cas," Dean greeted him tiredly.

"Would you like me to take some pain away, Kale?" He asked, looking straight down at me with a sombre expression as he came closer, extending his arm. I nodded as well as I could and before I could say Crimson Plague, he had pressed his fingers to my forehead and I felt myself feeling lighter. My mouth opened and a sigh of ecstasy came out as Castiel took the dizziness away, plus some of the joint, muscle and stomach pains. Having an angel around was really helpful, especially when you were dying from a deadly supernatural plague that made you cough up blood and some other gross stuff. "There," Castiel said as he stepped backwards.

"Thanks," I said, my voice feeling stronger now that the pain was just a dull ache, all over my body, but still just a dull ache. Castiel smiled and nodded before he disappeared with another flutter of wings and I angled myself up to look at Dean, who was watching me with bright eyes. He reached out and brushed another stray hair behind my ear and leaned down until he was centimetres away from my lips. He hovered there, wondering if I was going to stop him because of my superstition with this disease we knew nothing about, but then he seemed to not care about what I thought and pressed his lips to mine. Cupping my cheeks with his large, warm, calloused hands, he pulled my face even closer to his as our lips moved in a sloppy rhythm and he pulled at my bottom lip with his teeth before our tongues started with a battle for dominance. Usually when Castiel came by and took my pain, it lasted about an hour, and using my time for kissing Dean was as good as it was going to get.

His hands slipped from my cheeks to one of them cupping the back of my neck and other playing with the top of my thigh. I felt a wave of electrical charged butterflies wash through my stomach until I realized they weren't just butterflies this time, and this time I was actually going to throw up. I wrenched myself away from Dean who let me go too easily and ran towards the bathroom, where I angled for the toilet but didn't quite get there in time so I went to lean over the sink and the vomit came up my throat, a mess of dark red blood, and sprayed all over the sink and the mirror. I watched it in horror after I was finished heaving, watching as I realized things were getting worse. Sure, I had vomited blood when Castiel had come back, but it had been mixed with stomach acids, water and lunch, but this time it was just a steady stream of bright red blood.

"Shit, Kale," In those two words I knew something was even worse than what I thought. Because Dean hardly ever swore and he hardly ever called me Kale. I turned around, looking at him standing against the bathroom door in horror and his eyes glassy as if he was holding back tears. That made me feel sick as I watched him watch my face with fear, fear for me and fear for what he would do after I died. Realizing he was staring at my face, I turned back around to face the mirror to see what he was looking at and gasped, tears instantly gathering in my eyes as I pulled a face washer from under the basin and wet it immediately before scrubbing my face with it.

Because my pores had began to leak blood, which meant my death would be sooner than we had expected.