The Other Side of Reality

Part 3

Two Days Later

Your head rested on the pillow. Much as it had the previous two days. It took too much effort to lift it up, or to do anything actually. Devon, your attendant made sure you took your pills regularly. Pills that kept you quiet and asleep the majority of the time. When you happened to be awake, you had no energy to move, no energy to eat. You laid on your bed, staring up at the wall. Your mind still played tricks on you, the voices louder than ever.

But they had changed. No longer telling you how stupid and useless you. Instead they whispered weird words, foreign to the ear. Never making any sense. Over and over they spoke, and more than once you covered yours ears, screaming until Devon came into the room.

It was almost worse then.

Ignoring the leer he sent your way, you continued screaming, your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to stop it. But it refused to stop, even when Devon roughly grabbed you by the arm, literally throwing you off the bed. "Shut up you stupid bitch!" He screamed.

Opening your eyes, you saw his foot lift off the ground, dangerously close to kicking you in the stomach. He weighed his options as tears streamed down your cheeks. Finally he placed his foot back on the cold tile, rubbing a hand over his mouth. Grabbing your hair, he pulled you back onto your bed. "This medicine was supposed to make you better. To make you weak and lethargic. Yet here you are, screaming for the entire world to hear. Why can't you just shut up and stop being so weird?"

"The med....medicine," you stuttered, your head absolutely pounding. "It's no....not working. I n..nnn....need the doc...doctor please."

Ignoring your pleas he turned to the locked cabinet kept in your room. Opening it, he pulled out a syringe, and you immediately knew what that meant. Last time he pulled out the syringe, you had become nothing more than a limp doll. Laying on your bed, drool slipping down your cheek while Devon stared down at you. Sometimes running his hand along your skin.

"I'll have you exactly the way I want you soon enough, he promised darkly, his eyes lighting up as he stabbed the long needle into your arm, not caring if he hurt you or not.

As he injected the liquid into your system, there was a knock on the door. "Devon, you're needed in the east wing."

Frowning Devon stared down at you for a moment before pushing his way through the door.

Even with the tranq immediately taking effect, you couldn't help but feel relieved. you weren't sure what would have happened if he hadn't been pulled from the room.

The voices in your head started to slip away, the tranq finally giving you some much needed relief. Your eyes wanted to close, sleep an easy escape from this farce of a life.

Your eyes closed, so close to your escape, you missed the sound of your door creaking open.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm," you sighed, your eyes blinking open to see a very handsome man staring down at you. His green eyes stared down at you in concern, his forehead wrinkled. Freckles dotted his nose, and you reached up, tracing them with your finger.

"Are you alright? I haven't seen you out of your room for a while," he asked, making no move to get away from your light tracing.

"New medicine," you yawned. "It's not helping. The voices are worst."

He sat down on the edge of your bed, still holding that burnt book. "What are these voices saying?"

Sighing, you smiled up at him. "I don't know anymore. They don't speak in English."

"They don't?"

"It's a weird language, ancient I think. Dean, I'm tired."

Brushing the hair back from your face, he glanced down at bruises just peeking out of your clothes. "Then sleep. I'll stay as long as they let me."

Dreams came as you slept, brought on by the Tranq. Dreams bathed in darkness, confusing you. Faces full of fear, monsters with fangs. Men and women with glowing blue eyes. The feeling of falling, falling from way up high. A man placing his hand on your head, your entire body burning from the inside out.

Screams woke you up, sending you straight up in bed. It took you a moment to realize they were coming from your own mouth.

Dean had his hand wrapped around yours, trying to calm you.

"That must have been a horrible nightmare," he spoke softly, the feel of thumb running up and down your skin calming.

"It was weird," you admitted, the tranq effects leaving your system. The voices were trying to come back, just muted for now. It was a welcome relief. "I saw monsters, and other people and this strange man killed me."

"How?" Dean asked, his face serious.

"He placed his hand on me, a bright light emitted, burning me from the inside out."

Dean sucked in a deep breath, his eyes wide. "Angel," he whispered. "But why you?"

"Angel? What? Dean, I...,"

"Y/N, my best friend was an Angel. Before the...before the fire," Dean spoke, his eyes full of sadness. "That's how they killed!"

"It just has to be a weird coincidence," you insisted. "I don't believe in the Supernatural."

Dean pulled back from you, visibly hurt. "But you...my stories! You listened to them!"

You could see that you had hurt him.

"Dean, I meant before I came here," you tried to console him. "But your stories, they've opened my eyes."

"It doesn't matter," he stated. "What matters is you. I noticed the bruises."

Before you could answer, the door was shoved open, a furious Devon storming inside. "No visitors!" He yelled. "Especially male!"

He reached down to grasp Dean, but Dean was already moving, his eyes hard. "Y/N is my friend. I was concerned when I hadn't seen her. Maybe I should report it to another nurse."

"No need," Devon sneered. "They won't listen to anyone but me."

You could see Dean struggling to stay calm. Taking care of you seemed to bring him out of his shell, making him much braver and sure of himself than he had been just days before. You could still see the little ticks of his fingers, the way his clung to the book. But maybe your friendship was affecting him in a positive way.

"I dare you to do something monster boy," Devon taunted, looking down at the book. "I'd love to see you in solitary."

Glancing between you and Devon, Dean quickly made a choice. His shoulders slumping slightly, he stepped through the open door, facing you one last time. "The library? Later today?"

You nodded, just before Devon slammed the door gleefully in Dean's face.