Her, To Home

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.© NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

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?

“Sara?” her names escaped his mouth in a plea. His senses coming back to him.

“She’ll be okay!”

His eyes opened abruptly, he felt like he was hearing things.

“O’Brian is fine? She’s okay?” he sounded like a small child and Jamie couldn’t believe him eyes. Who was this small boy? This couldn’t be Dean, how could it be? The man in front of him looked like a petrified child who had gone through years of misery. Like darkness had eloped his surroundings and he was terrified in it.

“Yeah, she’s fine.” Jamie replied as softly as he could. He didn’t know how to handle Dean in this state. He felt like he was walking on thin ice, one wrong move and he might be the reason for Dean losing his sanity.

“But there was so much blood, the blood….”

“It was just because of the force of impact from when she hit the ground. The car didn’t hit her that badly. You hear me? She’s fine.”

Yeah, he heard him.

She was alive. His Sara was still breathing in the same air he was.

Breathing never felt so effortless.

He tried to sit straight. His legs had their strength back.

“Here, take my hood. I prefer you don’t go outside half naked.” Jamie handed him his hood which Dean took without a word because he no longer cared about anything except seeing Sara okay with his very own eyes.

“I need to see her.” He said while picking himself again. His legs were aching to make the run towards her.

“She is still unconscious, mum is with he–you should probably wash your face first, you would scare mum.”

He just nodded and splashed water on his face. Taking the paper towel, he dried it and without looking in the mirror- he followed Jamie to the room she had been shifted to.

His feet came to halt right outside the door. He unexpectedly couldn’t find in himself to see her anymore. He didn’t want to imagine how worse she looked. He didn’t want to let his nightmares come true. The ache in his legs was replaced by heaviness, a weight which was making it impossible to take another step backwards or forward.

“It’s okay. Breathe. Sara is fine.”

He raised his head to look at Jamie who was smiling slightly. His red eyes were now starting to come back to their usual liveliness. If he as her brother was fine then why was he so afraid?

Dean nodded slowly and entered the room. His eyes in an instant went to the lifeless figure of Sara.

No, she was just sleeping. He told himself. Sara O’Brian was just fine. Sure, she had a bandage on her head and a bruise and few cuts on her face and he didn’t want to even think how many damage was done under the blanket which covered her body but she was fine. She was breathing on her own. She just needed to open her eyes and look at him. Open her mouth and shoot at him, just do anything. He was ready to do anything for her to look at him.

“Why the fuck is he here. He’s the reason she is in this state.”

He didn’t have to turn to see that it was June but he didn’t care. Her face was last thing he wanted to see and if she didn’t shut up, he would make sure no one would ever be able to see her face at all.

“June, it was an accident.” Jamie was saying but God, Dean couldn’t remove his eyes from Sara. He was caged by an unseen force which had left his everything from breaths to feet in pause. Like gravity, Sara was pulling him towards her but he had trouble following that force.

“Accident! It happened because he came back.” June cried out and he came so close to snapping her neck. His hands were aching for her neck.

“Jamie, take June outside.” He found himself saying. He had already come very close to lose his sanity and if that woman stayed even a second longer- he will go hulk on her sorry ass.

Of course, it didn’t happen without struggle but he knew that even Jamie knew he would actually kill her so he tried his best to quietly take her outside. It was then he noticed Sara’s mother, watching him in silence. Her eyes red but she didn’t look scared. She didn’t look afraid.

And yet, he was.

Five minutes later, he was finally alone with Sara. The silence turned out to be harder to breathe in compare to before. The machines attached to her were creeping him out. He was never the one to have a strong imagination but suddenly, he felt like the room had come to life. He could hear whispers and cries. The darkness in the room seems to be swallowing him. Even with Sara beside him, he have never felt so alone and scared. Fear still gripped his throat.

He silently walked closer to her bed, his steps refuse to make any sound but how he wished they did because the silence was tightening.

He hated silence in the presence of O’Brian and she- she always used it to hurt him, make him feel guilty and he knew it as the sign of her being angry. It was terrifying. The thought of her not speaking to him used to terrify him and he found out that nothing have changed in past two years. It still scared the shit out of him.

His body felt cold as he came right beside her still body. Her chest was rising up and down faintly. That was the only sign of life in the whole room. He couldn’t feel the air passing through his nose anymore.

He touched her hand with his fingers so gently as afraid she’ll crumble like sand in his hand and he would just sit there watching her drift away because right now, it felt like everything was possible.

Especially the possibility of Sara O’Brian never becoming his. And that was only possible if O’Brian no longer lived.

And he can’t let this happen. He has not thought of a life without her. He didn’t even know how to breathe or have a reason to live if she no longer lived.

He took a seat beside her, his fingers coming back to him again as if they were also careful to not make a mistake.

It felt empty staring at her. He have watched her sleep many times, spend hours just counting her breaths, smiling like an idiot and feeling like a blasting stalker and creep but right now in this moment, he have never felt more like a criminal because he knew- he have broken the one moral he had.

O’Brian.

He could kill without batting an eye, he could torture like it was his fucking playtime and still sleep at night like a baby. But right now, sleep was the last thing on his mind. She held so much power over him that it would piss someone’s pants if they knew. She just had to ask him to die and he would ask her, “How?”.

She could ask him to donate his fucking everything and he would just ask, “To who?”.

It was like being attached to strings and giving the control to someone else. In his case to a complete oblivious idiot.

But yet he held never felt suffocating, his controlled conscious never felt unwilling. He was fucking brainwashed by the charm of a very blockhead person.

His fingers once again reached out to touch her- pausing just a second before.