As you passed in and out of consciousness, you heard Dean as he stumbled towards you, falling down on his knees beside your body that wouldn't follow any of your orders. "Y/N." You heard him yell out, but you were so tired, still in so much pain that you couldn't answer, couldn't even move your little finger to let him know that you were there with him.

You felt his callused hands running along your body, looking for wounds, anything that would show where you were hurting. But it was useless, your pain was on the inside, where Andrew had had his hand wrapped tightly around your heart.

"Y/N, sweetheart, if you can hear me, please open your eyes." He pleaded, his fingers stopping as they reached your flushed cheeks. Straining to open them, you grew frustrated when they stayed close, as if someone had used super glue on your lashes. It was then you felt a drop on your forehead, then another, before your shoulders were gently lifted and you were wrapped in a warm pair of flannel covered arms.

Your body was rocked, back and forth, as Dean rested his head on top of yours. His hand moved move from your cheek, gently pressing against your neck, looking for a sign that you were still on Earth with him. You heard him muttering against your hair as he continued to slightly rock you in his arms. "Come on Y/N, fight. Please. There it is!" He said, his voice growing louder, and he must have found your pulse that was still sluggishly beating.

"Thank god." He exclaimed, leaning his head back down against yours, his arm wrapped tightly around you. Even though you were caught in the middle between consciousness and the unknown, you still reveled in the fact that you were being held in his arms.

You felt yourself growing a little weaker, a little more tired with each passing moment, and you wished you had enough energy to reach up, to slide your hand against his stubbled cheek, to give him one last smile to let him know how much he already meant to you. Instead you lay there, your body at odds with your mind.

"Dean!" You thought you heard Sam yell, and then you wondered if you were starting to imagine things. Sam was supposed to be in the library still.

"In here Sammy! Hurry!" Dean yelled, and if you hadn't been so weak you would have winced at the yell being so close to your ears.

You blacked out for a moment, losing your fight against consciousness. But when you suddenly came to, you felt yourself swinging, but held tightly against something warm and solid. It took you a moment, but then you realized you were being carried by someone. Once the familiar scent wafted your way, you knew it was Dean, with his uniqueness of gunpowder, motor oil, and musk.

You felt yourself gently being lowered, before you felt something soft and giving on your back. It was a bed. You weren't sure if it was in your room, or Dean's but you missed the warmth and the comfort that Dean's arms had provided.

The bed dipped, then you felt a wet washcloth being gently run over your face. "Sam, why won't she wake up? I didn't see any injuries." You heard Dean say from your left.

"I have no idea. But Dean, ghosts can do major injury on the inside. Things that don't show up on the outside. She could be internally bleeding and we would have no idea yet."

"So we just wait?" Dean asked, his voice showing his frustration.

"I'm sorry." You heard Sam sigh. "But Dean, we need to get you fixed up. You're still bleeding from multiple cuts."

"Not until she wakes up." Dean argued, and if you could get control of your muscles you would slap him. You didn't want him to bleed to death because of you.

You heard another sigh, and you figured it came from Sam again. "How about I get the supplies, work on you out here? That way you can keep an eye on her."

You weren't sure what happened next, but Dean shifted in the bed, and you could hear him hissing under his breath. "Damn it Dean, hold still." You heard Sam curse, and you knew he must be stitching Dean's cuts up. You tried hard, struggling against the darkness that held you immobile, wanting to see how badly Dean was hurt. You wanted to be the one tending to his wounds. 

You fought so hard, you felt your eyelids flutter open, and you could just make out the back of Dean's blue and red flannel shirt as he struggled to remove it from his shoulders. He turned so he wouldn't hit you as one strong arm was revealed. Upon turning, he glanced down at you, a worried look on his turning into a jubilant one as he noticed your eyes were open.

"Y/N!" He exclaimed, his own cuts and bruises forgotten as he turned his attention completely on you.

You wanted to do more, to reach out and touch him, to speak and tell him that you were glad he was okay. But all you could do was a small smile, the effort of that costing you.

"Y/N, I'm so glad you're okay." He said, reaching out to touch your hand, but before he could, you felt your entire body stiffen up. The slight movement of your smile was too much for your battered heart, and you could feel it seize up. Your entire body stiffened, and you felt tears gather in your eyes at the pain. 

Dean must have noticed, because his smile fell away, and he came closer to you, his face inches from yours. "Y/N, what is it? What's wrong? Damn it Sammy, help me!" He said, as you took in a painful breath, before the pain was too much and you faded away, back into the frustrating blackness that wouldn't release it's hold on you.

_____________________________________________

You weren't sure how much time had passed, but you felt yourself slowly waking up once again. This time was much different than last time. There was no longer that excruciating pain that had wrapped itself around your heart. Your body no longer felt as if it was wrapped in cement. You felt perfectly fine, in fact even better than before you had come to the motel.

You were able to take deep, wonderfully deep breaths, each one free and easy. Your head didn't pound, and you reveled in the fact for a moment. But then you noticed, that while your body was no longer held immobile from pain, it was still difficult to move. You felt something heavy and warm wrapped tightly around your middle, spreading up and down your back. It was your own personal heating pad, and while it felt amazing, you really needed to get up and use the bathroom.

Opening your eyes, you slowly twisted to your side, careful not to upset the arms that were currently wrapped tight around you. It seemed like ages, but finally, you came face to face with a sleeping Dean. He was pressed tight up against you, one arm acting as your pillow while the other had snuck under your shirt, and you shivered at the touch of skin on skin.

You took the time to study a sleeping Dean. His eyelashes were longer than you had thought, with his eyes closed they brushed the top of his cheeks, a dark fluttering fullness of eyelashes. He lips were plump and even pinker than you remembered, slightly parted as he breathed deeply. You knew you could get lost trying to count all the freckles that were spattered across his nose and cheeks. He was a gorgeous man, but that was just the tip of the man. Once you looked past the nice physique, the tempting bow legs, and the handsome face, you came to a kind hearted man. One who would do anything for those he loved, and even those he hadn't met yet. 

Shaking yourself from your sickeningly sweet thoughts, you scooted back, trying to move out of his grasp. It was tougher than you imagined, and as soon as you gained an inch, he would grumble in his sleep, and move in closer.

What seemed like hours later, you were finally free of his grasp, and you were standing at the side of the bed. You weren't sure what type of medicine they had given you, but it had done it's job. You felt amazing, as if the run in with the ghost had never happened. Thinking on it, you glanced back at Dean, wondering how all of his cuts had been miraculously healed.

Shaking your head, more than a little confused, you didn't pay any attention to where you were going. As you made your way to the bathroom, you ran into a hard chest. "Sorry Sam." You mumbled, not even looking up.

"It's alright. But I am not Sam." A deep, kind of hoarse voice said, and you looked up, into a pair of intense blue eyes. "Hello Y/N."